11-07-2022, 05:52 PM
Maybe he was interviewing her. The habit was so deeply ingrained, he wasn’t sure there was any other way to interact with people than to probe their behaviors for patterns and insight. His skill in this regard was directly responsible for his rise to power especially in those early years. That Nikolai had true powers as well only accelerated a spark that previously existed.
He was admittedly curious about Noemi - almost obsessively so. At first blush, she could be categorized with all the other power-hungry ladder-climbers that clawed at the Kremlin, but the more Nikolai watched, he believed she wasn’t like the others. She was in their midst, but somehow separate. Was her exclusion self-imposed or did some invisible barrier block her out? The question was maddening in the best of ways.
She stole the drink he’d idly held, placing it aside. His preferences were dismissed as casually as that glass. He was far too regimented to indulge unintentionally. His natural answer would be for a sparkling water or perhaps a nutritional shake. But Noemi’s disarming presence gave him pause. He leaned comfortably into the cushions, wondering if she would follow as she had previously came nearer to steal away the glass.
“To tell you the truth, if I were to drink anything, it would be an espresso hand-made by the finest Bolognase barista from Caffe Terzi who is likely to criticize me for drinking it too quickly,” he said. While there was a touch of reminiscence to his voice over a cafe that may not even exist anymore, he knew that without context the answer probably made little sense. Almost as cryptic as her reference to a promise fulfilled.
In that moment, the next day’s plans flashed through his mind: politicians, media, speeches, appearances. Nothing that couldn’t be delayed a day. The world revolved around him after all. One message and they could be on a plane in an hour, but a ten pm espresso would be expired by the time they arrived along with the sun's rising. The best caffe’s would be closed for the night, and the magic of the trip would be lost. It was an idea for another time, perhaps another life, one that beckoned like a temptation he’d long thought silenced. He swore to never return to Bologna, but one prompt from Noemi and he was ready to drop all responsibilities and flee to a dream of a life. As soon as he realized the impulse, the charm of it lost its grip, but not before he found himself so enticed as to completely forget it.
He answered her question slowly, with the pace of one given to the deepest of reflections, as if he was drinking in a mirror even as it cast another, always changing image. He saw smoke and mirrors. An illusion of power designed by the world’s greatest architect. One who believed so profoundly in the design that it was spun into existence by sheer force of his will.
“I see an incredible woman,” he replied, voice soft and inviting. A stroke on her cheek was one of sampling delicate glass. “A beautiful woman,” he added just as he brushed his lips to hers.
He was admittedly curious about Noemi - almost obsessively so. At first blush, she could be categorized with all the other power-hungry ladder-climbers that clawed at the Kremlin, but the more Nikolai watched, he believed she wasn’t like the others. She was in their midst, but somehow separate. Was her exclusion self-imposed or did some invisible barrier block her out? The question was maddening in the best of ways.
She stole the drink he’d idly held, placing it aside. His preferences were dismissed as casually as that glass. He was far too regimented to indulge unintentionally. His natural answer would be for a sparkling water or perhaps a nutritional shake. But Noemi’s disarming presence gave him pause. He leaned comfortably into the cushions, wondering if she would follow as she had previously came nearer to steal away the glass.
“To tell you the truth, if I were to drink anything, it would be an espresso hand-made by the finest Bolognase barista from Caffe Terzi who is likely to criticize me for drinking it too quickly,” he said. While there was a touch of reminiscence to his voice over a cafe that may not even exist anymore, he knew that without context the answer probably made little sense. Almost as cryptic as her reference to a promise fulfilled.
In that moment, the next day’s plans flashed through his mind: politicians, media, speeches, appearances. Nothing that couldn’t be delayed a day. The world revolved around him after all. One message and they could be on a plane in an hour, but a ten pm espresso would be expired by the time they arrived along with the sun's rising. The best caffe’s would be closed for the night, and the magic of the trip would be lost. It was an idea for another time, perhaps another life, one that beckoned like a temptation he’d long thought silenced. He swore to never return to Bologna, but one prompt from Noemi and he was ready to drop all responsibilities and flee to a dream of a life. As soon as he realized the impulse, the charm of it lost its grip, but not before he found himself so enticed as to completely forget it.
He answered her question slowly, with the pace of one given to the deepest of reflections, as if he was drinking in a mirror even as it cast another, always changing image. He saw smoke and mirrors. An illusion of power designed by the world’s greatest architect. One who believed so profoundly in the design that it was spun into existence by sheer force of his will.
“I see an incredible woman,” he replied, voice soft and inviting. A stroke on her cheek was one of sampling delicate glass. “A beautiful woman,” he added just as he brushed his lips to hers.