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Some days, Alina wasn’t certain that all of her had made it back out of the Shadow Fold.
Some days, she was nearly certain she wasn’t back at all. Certain that she was still there, cloaked in heavy darkness that weighed impossibly heavy upon her, forcing her to her knees. That everything around her was just a malicious ploy her own mind played on her, a merciless game of shadows. The endless darkness followed her everywhere. Whenever she closed her eyes, it was there, lurking at the edge of her mind, seeping through the cracks of the walls she had built in her mind in a desperate attempt to protect herself from it. The darkness, the sharp smiles, the alabaster colored, perfect, unscarred skin, the dark eyes, always present and inescapable.
Most nights, the feeling of a satin bedspread and smooth covers against her skin and the stinging pain of her nails digging into the skin of her palms were seemingly the only thing keeping her from slipping into the darkness.
Alina was no stranger to long periods of sleep deprivation.
When she had been younger, still a child, spending her days in the forests and meadows surrounding Keramzin, insomnia had accompanied her nights more often than not: half the time because Mal and her had made a habit of staying up, telling each other made up stories and dreaming of a future they wouldn’t have, other times because she couldn’t slow her racing thoughts enough to rest.
Now, there were other reasons to avoid closing her eyes. No, Alina hadn’t slept peacefully anymore since long before she had returned to Os Alta for the second time.
Laying in the Darkling’s bed — because no matter how long she had been sleeping in it, it would always be his, and his only — Alina could smell him all around her, felt him, his darkness resonating from every corner, every object, every molecule in the room. It called forth an emotion which she couldn’t name nor describe, though it made her feel indescribably... empty. Almost like something was... missing.
The thought made her frown. She opened her eyes, staring straight ahead at the ceiling, dimly lit by the single candle Alina always kept burning on the bedside table.
She didn’t even need to turn her head to know he was there again. Well, as much as a shadow could really be anywhere, she supposed. It was almost instinctively now, how she recognized his presence without him somehow making himself noticeable.
He didn’t speak. He never did, not anymore. Just quietly watched her every move, his gaze heavy upon her like the weight of a thousand worlds. Sometimes he stayed the whole night, quietly sitting in the armchair by the unlit fireplace, unmoving.
Other times, he only appeared shortly, randomly throughout the day or night, standing a few feet away from her, just looking at her. No one had ever looked at her like this, not even Mal. His eyes were taking her in, skimming over her body, her face, her eyes, drinking in every last detail. But he was always gone before she had even freed herself of the shock of his sudden appearance, gone again in the blink of an eye.
Tonight, though, he was sat on the chair by the fireplace again. Knowing what she would find, Alina slowly turned her head to look at him. Their eyes met right on, but Alina didn’t have the energy to flinch. She was just ... tired.
In moments like these, he seemed so real, so godforsaken real, that it made her chest hurt again. Just the shadows haunting my mind.
“You’re not really here.“ Her voice was not nearly as strong as she wished it would be, scratchy and colored by exhaustion.
“No.“ The Darkling offered no explanation, boring his eyes into hers. His face was only half lit by the moon shining through the windows. Alina hadn’t even noticed when the candle had gone out.
"Why can’t you just — just leave me alone?“ Alina wasn’t the slightest bit proud of how her voice cracked halfway through the sentence, the desperation behind the question shining through. Am i going insane?
She had half expected an answer among the lines of him not even being here, about their destinies being interwoven, them belonging together, but the resounding silence, paired with the faint frown on the Darkling’s face which met her question, caught her off guard.
His eyes slowly drifted away from her face, as if he wasn’t even realizing the movement, and came to a sudden halt on a point somewhere above Alina’s left shoulder. She swallowed.
The silence dragged out, until suddenly, the Darkling rose from the chair, turned away from her, and took a few steps towards the fireplace. A process which Alina immediately recognized as him being on the verge of leaving her once again.
“Wait.” The word was out before her brain even caught on what she had just done.
The Darkling halted in his steps, barely turning his head to the side, showing he was listening.
Maybe it was the overwhelming exhaustion which clouded her judgement, or maybe it was the clawing feeling of emptiness in her chest, which made her speak up again. "You... don’t have to leave.“
Slowly, the Darkling turned around. His lips were pulled up into a mocking smirk, his eyebrow raised. “You sure change your mind quickly, Alina.“
She tried to ignore him. Her mind was running a hundred miles a second.
He was not real. No one would ever know. He wasn’t here, he was on the other side of the continent, planning a war. He wasn’t here. He was not real.
Where was the harm in finding... comfort in her phantasm? He was not real.
Wetting her lips and coughing to regain her voice, Alina made a decision.
“Can you ... stay? With me?“
The smirk melted off the Darkling’s face like hot wax. For a moment, his face was entirely expressionless, lips slightly parted, eyes widened for just a fraction more than usually. Then, his jaw clenched and his dark eyes narrowed in barely concealed confusion and mistrust.
“I don’t want to be alone. Please.“
The following silence was so loud, Alina almost wished she could take her words back. He’s not real; you’re imagining him... But he could still deny her.
The Darkling stood in the middle of the room, completely motionless, staring at Alina, scrutinising her, his eyes taking her apart without even touching her. She couldn’t decipher his expression, couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was thinking right now.
Finally, after what felt like a single second stretched into eternity, his face smoothed over and he nodded once.
Alina slowly breathed out, running her slightly shaky fingers through her messy hair. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, pokering high above her stake, but something in her had become unhinged now.
"Will you... hold me?“ The overwhelming feeling of need —want— Alina suddenly felt, probably should have scared her, drove her away, made her realize how bad of an idea this was, but instead, the intoxicating pull of it made her feel a bit lightheaded.
The realization that she actually wanted him close, wanted him to hold and comfort her, was the only thought she could grasp in that moment.Even if he wasn’t real.
The conflict was visible on his face. His brows were furrowed and those ancient eyes travelled over her face again, searching for something. She could almost feel his thoughts, the ever present, all reigning need for control battling... the want, Alina realized, the same she felt as well.
Her mouth opened, ready to say something, anything, halfway torn between taking back her words or whispering another plea. The Darkling spoke before she had made up her mind.
“Yes.“
The single word made her feel like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, the pressure in her chest subsiding slightly.
The Darkling stepped closer to the bed, his movements held an uncertainty Alina had never seen before, when it came to him. He began to undo his dark kefta, Alina watching him, mesmerized by the motion of his fingers. He slid the heavy gown off his shoulders, and almost carelessly positioned it at the end of the huge bed. His boots quickly undone and discarded as well, the Darkling‘s eyes returned to Alina‘s, his gaze filled with an emotion she couldn’t name.
Despite the absence of the imposing, black kefta, the Darkling still made for an impressive figure, all lean muscle and broad shoulders, accented by his dark, simple longsleeve.
With slow and deliberate steps, he rounded the bed, stopping right next to her, towering over her. Alina, suddenly intensely aware of their proximity, carefully scooted over on the bed to make space for him.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, as he lightly sat down on the bed next to her, before slipping under the covers they now shared.
Hesitant to make the first move, Alina sat unmoving on the bed, frozen.Not real.
She could hear his breath, calm and controlled, and closed her eyes. Cold fingers grazed her shoulder, traveling down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. Coming to a halt on her wrist, the fingers gently closed around her arm, softly tugging her hand towards him.
Her upper body followed the tug by itself, letting the Darkling guide her closer, until her arm was casually swung across his stomach. To her embarrassment, she immediately registered the hard muscles beneath the fabric, and had to force herself not to run her hands over them again.
She was so close now, so close.
Slowly, Alina lowered her head, until it rested against the Darkling’s chest. A small sigh of contentment escaped her, but she was all too tired to mind.
In one fluent movement, the Darkling wound his arm under her figure, supporting her, and simultaneously slightly turning his body towards her, opening up.
Somehow, Alina‘s head ended up in the crook of the Darkling’s neck, while his right hand came to rest on the back of her head, embracing her fully, their bodies pressed together everywhere.
They fit perfectly, like the two pieces of a unique puzzle, finally completed. Alina wasn’t surprised. They were made for each other, after all; destined to be together.
The feeling of emptiness in her chest was gone, gone as if it had never even existed in the first place. When Alina fell asleep not long after, the darkness didn’t feel hostile or dangerous anymore. It felt like it was ... a part of her, welcoming her with open arms, engulfing her in a comforting embrace. She felt safe, safe and right.
________
When Alina awoke to golden light streaming through the windows, she was alone again.
He was never here, her mind reminded her. Turning away from the windows, Alina pressed her face into her pillow to escape the blinding light, and was attacked by an unfamiliar sensation.
Though never truly gone, the Darkling’s smell had noticeably faded over the past weeks. But as Alina breathed in the scent on the pillow, there it was. The smell of winter wind and bare branches. The smell of absence, the smell of night. Fresh and distinct, as if he had never been gone in the first place.