[log] colours seen by candlelight will not look the same by day
Neither Nick nor Alya are particularly the 'relationship kind', whatever that vague and ambiguous label actually means. Whatever it means, it's something they're not - making the fact they seem to have accidentally and without telling each other or themselves ended up in one sort of tragically funny. Though, they might not see it that way ( Read more... )
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Alya nudges up next to him, with an innocent smile and a bottle of his wine in hand. "There's still some left, you know. Trade one vice for another?"
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"Not a fan of the breeze?" Nick asks, lightly cheerful, putting his cigarette out and pulling the door shut. What, he likes Alya and he likes to drink, this can't possibly go wrong. Even if he doesn't rightly trust the innocent smile.
...you know, especially since he's not allowed to know what's behind it.
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"Not in December, no, you madman," she says, dryly, sauntering in bare feet and dress to the kitchen to retrieve the wineglasses.
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"You cut me to the quick, Alya." That or he's just very sedately bratty, following her as far as what passes for a doorway to his kitchen.
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