plastic gods

Oneshot

The light coming from the neon sign outside was the only one they had, softly pulsating from neon pink to bright blue. It made blood look funny, black and deeper than it should be. Like a shadow.

"You do know you have powers, right?" Aleksander asked, softly, as he bandaged Alina's knuckles, bloody and bruised. By his side, the open first aid kit, cotton balls soaked with blood and antiseptic discarded to the side. It wouldn't do for Alina to have scars from the undeserving; the bruise blooming on her skin is already enough. Aleksander ran through the list of Healers he knew, but the realization most of them were dead hit him soon after.

She snorted, her free, already bandaged, hand holding down an ice bag to her nose, stopping the blood from gushing down and further ruining her white shirt. He'd have to burn it later; Aleksander doubted that stain could be taken out, and doubted the cleaners would not call someone if they saw it. There was way too much blood to be only hers staining the shirt.

"Really, now. I thought you had told me to not expose myself before we were ready?" Alina replied, and then winced. "Ouch. Might've gotten a broken nose, there."

He sighed. It wasn't the first time, and he doubted it would be the last.

"I told you to not get into fights -" He started, looking around for more bandages.

"And I told you that I would defend myself -" Alina spoke over him, and then grinned. "Come on, you know me."

"Too much, perhaps." Aleksander retorted, and sneered for a second, finishing up her bandages. "Very well, I'll reset your nose."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

They've been together for - too long, he supposes. Through royalty and revolutions and centuries. Sometimes they go apart from each other, but not for long: never for long. There's a pull between the two, and Aleksander likes to follow it. Sometimes.

Each other is the only remnant of a time long gone, and no one can quite understand what that means but themselves. Like gods made of plastic, immutable and covered in mold: it was impossible for them to decay, Aleksander supposed.

It doesn't matter; philosophical musings won't fix Alina's broken nose.

"Alright, time for the worst." Alina nodded as Aleksander sighed, raising himself from his seat for a moment. The skin of her face felt soft, even after all those years apart. "Why did you drag yourself to me? It's been a few decades since we last stood together."

Alina paused. Aleksander took her moment of hesitation to cleanly put the nose back in its place, gaining from her a hiss and the satisfying noise of cartilage popping back in place.

"That hurt, asshole." She said, using a little light trick to make Aleksander step back, falling into bed; he reflexively dampened the lights, until the two of of them stood in darkness, not even the neon lights bathing them anymore.

Alina sighed, and he heard her ruffling her white hair, carding her fingers through it.

"I hate to say this, but you're safe." He chuckled at this. He, safe? "I'm serious. Who else could I have gone to, Aleksander? Everyone I've ever trusted is dead."

He ignored his name on her tongue, glad for the lack of light that hid a thrill going up his spine: even after all those years, it still had the same effect on him.

"Except for me, apparently." He quietly let the lights come back, until their world was pink to blue to pink again. She is still stunning, even bloodied.

"Except for you." She echoed. Back then - all those years ago -, there would be a bitter taste to those words. Nowadays, not so much. "Let me stay the night. Tomorrow, morning come, I'll be gone."

Aleksander doesn't want to let her go. It's been too long he has been alone, just him and the dark - which wasn't so bad when he thought he was the only one of its kind, but now that Alina has been around, things were different.

"And what if morning does not come?" Aleksander asked, picking up the used items and quietly putting them away to discard later. "The bed is yours."

He can live on the couch for a night. Grabbing the items, he rose from his improvised seat upon the bed, going to dispose the trash into the bathroom's bin.

"Then I will make it come." She snorted, and he kept an eye on her through the bathroom mirror as Alina rose from the bed and went to rifle through his clothes.

He heard the sound of clothes moving around, and stayed in the bathroom for longer than necessary, reorganizing the first aid supplies. He didn't even know why he had that thing; it wasn't like

When he re-emerged from the bathroom, Alina was on the bed, sitting again, her clothes from before in a neat pile on the floor, dressed in one of his black shirts that were too big for her. The world was almost pitch-black: the curtains didn't block all the light, and the soft blues and pinks made Alina look even more gorgeous, like a statue someone had breathed life into.

"Stay with me. The bed is big enough." Alina asked, and Aleksander hesitated for the briefest of seconds.

"Why, I thought that after that particular incident..." He drawled, a sly smirk playing on his lips, and Alina rolled her eyes.

"Jackass." She murmured, making space on his bed. Aleksander accepted her invitation, sliding to her side, spooning her, and kissing her shoulder, briefly.

"Yours, though." He whispered, against the fabric. Alina did not reply; she simply wormed herself deeper against Aleksander, as if trying to memorize his warmth one more time. He put his arms around her, and Alina held him, as if trying to make sure she wouldn't be able to escape the cage he made around her.

They fall into silence for so long Aleksander was sure Alina dozed off. But then, she speaks, soft, inaudible.

"I thought you'd have asked for me to stay, at this point."

Aleksander gently took off his shirt from her shoulder, kissing the skin directly; she tasted like the warmth of the sun during the afternoon.

"Even an old dog can learn new tricks." Aleksander let go of her skin, putting the shirt back in place with careful fingers.

He wanted Alina to stay, but Aleksander knew that forcing her to do so had never worked, and now wouldn't work, too. If she wants to leave, Aleksander will bite his tongue and let her do it.

It's not like she won't come back, at some point. It'll just take more time if he forces his hand.

"You've changed." Aleksander doesn't feel like he had; he still felt pretty much the same.

Alina turned around, wiggling in his arms, eyes facing him. She expected an answer.

"So have you." He replied, and she smiled, before wincing. The bruise must be painful, he realized.

Alina sighed, buried her face in his chest. She said something, and Aleksander politely pretended to not hear the muttered maybe I should stay she had said. Let it be a surprise for when morning came.