( alina has his rapt attention as ever, the fireworks overhead basting her skin in fluorescent purples and pinks, making her look like some art installation, some far off galaxy mixing all colors of stars and the oil spill stuff of the universe across her button nose, her freckled cheeks. he tries not to be hypnotized, tries to pay attention. it's a serious moment, and alina is anxious. she's just also — you know, the prettiest girl at the party, and she's sitting here with him, a little far away.
he still drops a hand down on her knee, squeezing. she looks so guilty, it wrenches his heart a little, eyebrows pulling together. his head bobs in an encouraging nod, biting his lower lip before speaking. )
I know. I really don't mind it — I kind of like it, actually. It's not just bedroom talk. ( every time he gets off on the thought of someone tasting him where he's stained himself inside of alina, every time he gives her instructions on how to fuck the next guy she sees, every time he offers and denies people the warm cinch of her body. paul hasn't been entirely celibate aside from alina, either. there was john, once. every other time, there was alia.
alia. right. he shifts a little, straightening up. he turns his hand palm side up, if alina feels like holding it. )
I have to confess, too. I think I know who you're talking about. ( is in fact a hundred percent sure, but it's better not to come across like some know it all asshole. ) The thing is ... there's really no distance between me and Alia. I know all of her, just like she knows all of me. More than all of me, in fact — she knows a me I have yet to become.
( he shakes his head. ) The point is, I know. You don't have to feel guilty, for being with Alia. You don't have to confess any of your sexual conquests if you don't want to.
( said carefully, with consideration. if there's more than the physical to her relationship with alia then, well. this conversation is going to go down an entirely different path, and paul is buzzing with excitement for what that means, what it could mean between the three of them. he won't nudge her in any direction, though — this is alina's heart, and he's sworn to treasure it, every chamber, every thread. )
no subject
he still drops a hand down on her knee, squeezing. she looks so guilty, it wrenches his heart a little, eyebrows pulling together. his head bobs in an encouraging nod, biting his lower lip before speaking. )
I know. I really don't mind it — I kind of like it, actually. It's not just bedroom talk. ( every time he gets off on the thought of someone tasting him where he's stained himself inside of alina, every time he gives her instructions on how to fuck the next guy she sees, every time he offers and denies people the warm cinch of her body. paul hasn't been entirely celibate aside from alina, either. there was john, once. every other time, there was alia.
alia. right. he shifts a little, straightening up. he turns his hand palm side up, if alina feels like holding it. )
I have to confess, too. I think I know who you're talking about. ( is in fact a hundred percent sure, but it's better not to come across like some know it all asshole. ) The thing is ... there's really no distance between me and Alia. I know all of her, just like she knows all of me. More than all of me, in fact — she knows a me I have yet to become.
( he shakes his head. ) The point is, I know. You don't have to feel guilty, for being with Alia. You don't have to confess any of your sexual conquests if you don't want to.
( said carefully, with consideration. if there's more than the physical to her relationship with alia then, well. this conversation is going to go down an entirely different path, and paul is buzzing with excitement for what that means, what it could mean between the three of them. he won't nudge her in any direction, though — this is alina's heart, and he's sworn to treasure it, every chamber, every thread. )