A SYMPHONY OF SHADOWS | grishaverse

.xii.

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twelve

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It was almost excruciating to lay there that night, look into the pitch black, head upon a pillow and try to sleep.

No matter how hard one could try, Aleksander could not quieten the raging of thoughts within his mind.

He couldn't forget the way her voice bit harshly, like ice, the way her body felt beneath his hands... shaking, perfect and, oh, so welcoming. He couldn't stop thinking about how his hand had closed around her throat – how she had whimpered.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way her lips brushed against his cheek.

Like it was burned into him, the fiery kiss still stung – and he only wanted more.

Obsidian optics flickered to the glossy black mahogany of a bedside table, where upon the otherwise empty surface, a black rose lay.

It was beautiful, delicate and dangerous.

Just like her.

Nerezza Adiram... the sharpshooter who'd claimed his heart.

And the next morning, when Aleksander got himself ready for the day – not able to have fallen asleep at all – he placed the rose on the lapel of his kameez.

A little show of possessiveness... or maybe a trick to mess with her head.

At first, he'd thought it would be easy to bend her to his will, to use her in his pursuit for Grisha freedom. But now, he was doubting himself. Now, he realised that he almost couldn't imagine a life without her. Now, he wanted her as his equal: as his... No! Don't think like that, he reprimanded himself.

It was too trivial of a thought, too dangerous.

...

"You're a simp," hissed Nina

"I'm confused," voiced David.

"You're in love," clarified Fedyor.

"I ship them," exclaimed Genya.

Nerezza glared at her friends. "I'm not any of those things. And neither is Al- the General."

Nina and Genya both smirked, "First name basis!" they squealed in unison.

Nerezza rolled her eyes.

"Guys!"

They turned at the shout, to see Ivan running over. He nodded at his best friend: "Fedyor."

The latter returned the nod, a slight blush coating his face, "Ivan."

Ivan turned to Nerezza, "He's wearing the rose."

"What?

She was baffled, almost dumbstruck.

Aleksander was wearing the rose. The rose. The one she had shot into her room before the incident at the fountain last night.

Oh saints. Only hours ago, the feeling of his hands on her burned like fire. The way he had spoken, the sound of his voice reverberating through her mind.

"The rose you gave him, he's wearing it on his kameez," Ivan clarified.

"You gave him a rose!" Nina exclaimed.