She doesn't answer him, not for several slowly drawn-out minutes. She wonders what changes in the room that alerts him so easily to her presence. He's the only one that can, almost every time.
"It's much more fun for me this way," she says from her perch in the window of his office. She knew he would be here, he usually was. Especially at this time of night. "Not many can say they hold the power to make Kaz Brekker...squirm."
“Hello, Inej.” How he can always sense her presence is a question Kaz has teasingly dodged answering over the years. So much of how Inej moves is like magic to him, he enjoys being able to show her a trick or two in return. The air shifts upon her entrance into his window, weight gathered by her presence that tells him he’s no longer alone. He’s seated behind his desk, head bent over papers he’s studying, his right foot propped up on a small stool beside his chair. There’s a coffee mug settled near him, what little is left in it cold by now.
“I’m hardly squirming. I’m studying.” At that his gaze flicks upwards towards where she’s perched upon his windowsill. It’s become synonymous for him, her and that place, so much so that he moved his office downstairs into Haskell’s old one. It’s also less walking up and down the stairs during the day, that’s his practical excuse. What he hasn't said is the fact that he keeps getting distracted looking towards that window ledge when he’s up here, missing that she isn’t there when she’s at sea.
He’s kept his old desk in his bedroom so he could still work at it throughout the night when sleep eludes him. “The crows will be glad you’re back so they can con you out of birdseed.” Nevermind that he’s taken it upon himself to feed her birds in her absence.
The laugh is silent, a little scrunch of her nose, a grin, picture-perfect. She eases back into stillness, taking a few quick glances around the room inside. The way Kaz has positioned himself is usually the most obvious clue about how long he's been there. He gets lost in his own head and forgets he needs to move occasionally.
"Someone's been over-feeding them," she says, the teasing tilt of her words colored in amusement. "Too much bread, I think." she glances back at him over her shoulder. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
He wishes he could hear the laugh. Kaz always feels a fluttering in his belly hearing it, his mood instantly lifted by the sound. It sings beneath his skin, making him feel as warm and giddy as if he’s drunk a shot of whiskey. Kaz doesn’t let himself get sloppy or fall-down drunk, but he feels like hearing her laugh puts him in a nice, tipsy state as long as the sound lasts. For now though he settles on just soaking in that she looks happy and at peace perched where she is. For all that he enjoys irritating her, and he does, he also enjoys making her feel at ease and happy.
Reaching out he lifts up his coffee cup, draining the last dregs of caffeine. It doesn’t taste particularly good right now, stale and cold, but Kaz couldn’t care less. His eating habits are much like the rest of the way he operates. He’ll eat or drink anything and think it’s fine as long as it gets the job done. He might have preferences, such as coffee over tea, but at the end of the day he’s never lost the canal rat realization that any food is worthwhile if he’s hungry.
Setting his cup aside, one eyebrow of his arches. Leaning back in his chair he muses with absolute innocence, “That doesn’t sound like me. Nina’s the bleeding heartrender of this group when you’re gone. Although if they get fat enough we could always turn one of them into dinner.” No, he wouldn’t actually do that.
"You wouldn't hurt my birds," she tosses lightly back at him, the confidence streaming through unhalted. Some things she just knows as fact, no matter how much he may want to allude otherwise.
She scoffs softly. "Oh, sure. You and that black hole where your heart should be, yes?" she rolls her eyes playfully at that.
She’s right that he wouldn’t harm the crows, even if he won’t admit it. While it’s Inej who started feeding them, cautioned against doing so by him, he has always liked the animal. He likes what they represent enough to have informally called his friends by the same name. It means something to him that Inej has taken that symbol to heart, even if through the more literal animals’ care. No matter where she is, she’ll always be part of the Dregs and one of the Crows to him. It’s both a fact and far too sentimental to pass his lips. Instead the curve upwards in a smirk. “The hole comes in handy, Captain. I could fit some extra kruge in there if I needed to. Prime real estate shouldn’t go to waste.”
"People forget that you can be funny because they are too busy being scared to anger you," she smirks back at him. "I'm glad I get to witness it more than most." It does, in fact, feel like a privilege to see him like this.
“Most people can’t hold two thoughts together in their heads at once. They especially can’t if the two aren’t easily reconciled with one another. Rubbed together they just give themselves a friction headache rather than understanding nuance.” He counts on it, the simplicity most people strive for in order to maintain a status quo. He’s created a superficial myth rich with rumors to hide that he’s just a man. An intense man, a man whose morals bend to what suits him rather than society. He enjoys frightening the merchers, he likes making them mad to have a dark mirror held up for them to face. He also likes that he can make her smile, and that he can joke with his few friends. It’s a contradiction best kept hidden from most.
Inej, too, has legends surrounding her. First as the Wraith in Ketterdam, and now she’s building a reputation out on the seas as one not to be trifled with. He likes that there’s more to her than that, too.
“I trust you won’t think less of me because I also happen to be hilarious,” he adds with a faint smirk. He trusts her, period. “Most people don’t need to see more of me than they do. Might ruin some of the mystique. Much like I’m sure you’re protective of your reputation as the Wraith out on the water.”
She rolls her lips together to suppress the soft laugh that threatens to bubble up out of her as he continued the bit.
“Quite the opposite, actually. It makes you much more attractive than you already are.” the words come easy and light, like they talked like this all the time.
“Plenty of mystique left, even knowing you have some sort of sense of humor,” she points out, lifting her eyebrows.
So close. It’s almost a challenge he sets himself now to make her laugh. Kaz’s mind works in a manner where he needs constant stimulation and puzzles to feel satisfied, but it’s rare that those workings aren’t darker in nature. With Inej though there’s a balance. He is striving to be a better man to build a future with her, and he’s coming to find that it’s not always difficult and arduous - though it can be that, too. In moments like this though it’s silly and soft, and while it feels like new waters to tread, he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning.
Reaching his hands behind his head, he stretches and rolls his shoulders, feeling the pleasant pop of joints gone stiff while he’s been in thought. In her keeping the tone easy and light they can pretend there hasn’t been years of buildup to talks like this, that it’s merely no different than the many random conversations they’ve entertained as hours ticked past them. “You have a slyer sense of humor than many give you credit for, while we’re on the topic. It’s good. It means I’m never bored when we talk.” Which is a huge compliment coming from Kaz, who sizes up, assesses, and dismisses most of the world within moments socially. He’s an introvert who often prefers his own thoughts, save for a select few. “Are you hungry? I have some things stashed in my drawers. And safe.” The snacks he knows she likes he’s stored so that nobody with sticky fingers can reach. Jesper might attempt to ransack his drawers, the Dregs have a policy of eat or be eaten, but nobody can break into his safe.
“Saints Forbid you ever lapse into a momentary bout of boredom, Your Highness,” speaking of her sense of humor…
Inej can feel her lips twitch in one corner of her mouth as he settles in his place. This might be one of the most at-peace moments she’s ever witnessed in him.
“Depends on what you have,” she tips her head slightly to one side, a curious glint in her eye at the idea of snacks.
“Boredom and stagnation are too close together for my taste. Better to be a swimming shark than a sitting duck,” he bandies back, but there’s truth in his remark for him. Even if he can sit without moving, Kaz is never truly at rest or peace. True relaxation isn’t worth the risk, and his mind can’t ever slow to a stop. He comes closest to it though when she’s near him. Inej isn’t without her inner fire, but she’s also a calming presence against his intensity. If Kaz has no regulator inside of him, and he doesn’t, if he’s all ahead all the time like the steel machines that make up his city, then Inej is more flexible like the currents on which she travels, flowing at different speeds.
“Not too much,” he admits as he leans over to pull open one of his desk drawers. “I only keep things that won’t go bad or ask for ants.” Still, Kaz often doesn’t stop to eat all day. When his body finally demands nourishment, he’s usually up here at work and he doesn’t want to waste time and effort going down into the kitchens. So he’ll just grab a handful of whatever’s on hand and call it a day. He takes out a container of mixed nuts, a bag of dried jerky, wrapped fruit-flavored candies, and a package of crackers. Setting them out on his desk for her to help herself if she wants, he cracks open the container and shakes some nuts out into his hand.
"Best to leave the fine lines to the wire walker," she smirks and slides off the edge of the window sill, her feet making soundless contact with the floor as she steps toward his desk as he pulls out his snack container.
The smile never leaves her face and softens a little at the edges. In the space of a blink, she's swapped from standing in front of him to perching on the corner as she inspects the goods. She plucks one of the candies and unwraps it, glancing back up at him for a moment, "Thank you," she says, her tone soft, and then she pops the candy into her mouth.
The furniture in Kaz’s office at the Slat is a far cry from that at the Club, or from the sleek way he dresses when out on the city’s streets. It speaks to a part of Kaz that lurks beneath the surface. The table is sturdy yet worn, simple wood with nothing ornate decorating it. There are some chips and scuffs from use nicked into the surface. It had been a used table even before Kaz got his hands on it, and it’s one he’s never in the years Inej has known him swapped out for another. Every fortune that Kaz makes these days he funnels back into his people and his projects. That boy who’d grown up on a dirt poor farm, that scrawny canal rat who had to fight for every morsel of food he could snatch, he doesn’t toss anything out when it’s still of use. He doesn’t care about what’s fancy or in fashion within the confines of his personal space. It’s all old and used and honestly, some of it isn’t as good as it used to be, but he still would rather make do than spend money he sees as unnecessary.
His eyes drop down for a moment to where she’s perching, right by her the small indent where Jesper had gotten restless and played with Kaz’s letter opener to the desk’s detriment a very long time ago. Every indent that happened on Kaz’s watch he remembers. His mind forgets nothing.
He won’t forget the sight of her sitting so comfortably close to him, enjoying the food he’s set out a safe distance from his work. Where words often fail him, it’s easier to simply show his feelings through gestures like ensuring there’s never an empty pantry at the Slat. He gives a little nod at her gratitude, never really knowing how to respond when people thank him. “We have a candy shop now, I figure one of the perks is seeing what they have to offer.” We as in the Dregs, Kaz took over the sweets shop along with all the rest of Rollins’ businesses. The quince candies make his heart ache a little, though while he doesn’t eat them now a part of him is glad they’re still around along with other flavors of fruit candy. After a beat he admits, “It wasn’t a life goal to own one, but here we are.” It’s rare for Kaz to admit that he hasn’t plotted and planned since birth to specifically run a sweetshop, but to Inej, it feels a little safer to acknowledge just how far he’s come.
"We do?" she sounds delighted at the idea of it. It's a far cry from the clubs and casinos typically under the control of the gangs in the Barrel. "Bet Nina loves that." she grins, and she makes a note to seek out her friend later. She plans to see everyone while she's here, but it's probably no surprise Kaz would be her first stop after port.
"Not a bad investment, people are always suckers for sweets," she shrugs a little.
Hearing the delight in her tone makes his eyes momentarily flicker in amusement. They’ve been through so much, both apart and together, that seeing these instances where she appears young and carefree touch the vacuous space where his heart once resided. It tugs on strings he long since though atrophied out of existence. He reaches out and picks up the wrapper that she’s left on the table, indulging in the playfulness for a moment by making the wrapper seemingly vanish out of thin air. A magic trick he normally reserves for when needed on heists, rather than to amuse the girl whose happiness radiates warmth beneath his skin. He feels like he would do just about anything to keep her smiling.
Reaching out then he joins her by unwrapping a candy of his own and putting it into his mouth. It’s a hard candy, sweet and tart from the fruit. Kaz Brekker is one of those very illusive, rare individuals who can suck on a candy until it’s gone rather than impulsively biting it to chew on the shards. Jesper is at the other end of that spectrum, Kaz has watched in disbelief as the man shattered large balls of hard candy with his teeth without requiring a healer on hand. Yet.
“I wonder if it’s meant as a double-meaning when candies are called suckers.” One because they are meant to be sucked, and two because people are suckers for them. “Nina’s over the moon and already has some specials being offered that are by her design. It’s a good business, especially since the plague rumors have died down.” Granted he started them. “Plus knowing they were Rollins’ makes me motivated for them to succeed under new management.” It’s a little surreal how far they’ve come. Inej a renowned Captain on the high seas, him cleaning up and restructuring more and more of his city. “You know you’re welcome to take some back to your crew. I imagine that and the liquor at the club would store well enough on a ship. They aren’t perishable.”
She smiles brightly at the trick, eyes alight with her amusement. How he does that sort of sleight of hand work so easily fascinates her; it's not so unlike the way she moves in and out of shadows. She never wants to know the truth of those tricks, maddening as it is to watch coins or candy wrappers seem to disappear into nothing with little more than a well-practiced wave of his hand or flick of his wrist... the mystery is why she loves seeing it.
Maybe mystery is what draws her to him.
"People do love plays on words," she agrees with a slight nod, it just makes sense. She smiles as he talks about the business. Same as he would any other under his watch, but that's the thing, isn't it? The product doesn't matter, it's the man at the top of the chain pulling the strings, and Kaz knows how to run a successful business just about better than anyone, she thinks.
She nods at the offer, "I think I will. They'd like that."
At heart Kaz isn’t a performer the way her family is. He’s never felt the draw to make a living off of thrilling an audience. Yet at the same time, he can appreciate the allure of it. He might have adapted that street magician’s tricks to his own uses, but Kaz recalls the awe and wonder it brought to him. For many years he lost that sense of playfulness and delight, and it took seeing Inej in all her glory to bring him back to that untainted part of his childhood. She reminds him of the good in the world when his vision tunnels to simply his own wants and needs. Delighting her with little tricks when she embodies magic itself for him is something he hopes to do for years to come.
He rubs his eyes a little, but it’s a pleasant tiredness rather than bone-deep weariness. There’s comfort and familiarity in having Inej in his bedroom and office once more, perched on his desk or on her windowsill. In talking about anything and nothing, from debating unsolved crimes to teasing one another over fate and the manners of birds. He folds his arms on the table after, speaking of no manners, and simply enjoys watching her form folded up lithely at his side. He doesn’t say that he cares more if she would like that than he does the rest of her crew, except perhaps Specht whom he’s worked with personally for years before he left to return to a life on the sea with her. Kaz always prioritizes those he cares about most, and he’s not apologetic about it. “Only downside is I won’t get to see you tipsy out there,” he teases her. “I’d hate to miss a drunk Inej balancing on the plank.”
She smirks softly at the teasing jab and can’t help the one that dances off her tongue in response, “Bring out the bourbon and you can see me tipsy tonight.”
She surprises herself with the things that come out of her own mouth sometimes, and her tongue is loosest when she’s with people she is truly comfortable with. Few and far between as they may be… Kaz is definitely one of those few.
“Do you want an orange peel and some bitters to go with that?” he teases as he gets to his feet. It’s a short walk, only a few steps, so he doesn’t bother with his cane so his hands can remain free. He has a small liquor stash in his bedroom office. Nothing to make fancy drinks, only the preferred liquor choices of his closest friends and some glasses. There’s bourbon for Inej, whiskey for himself and Jesper, kvas for Nina and brandy for Wylan.
Pouring two fingers into the glasses of the respective booze choices, he offers the bourbon to Inej before settling back in his seat with his whiskey. He’s glad she’s comfortable with him, they’ve wiled away many long nights in his room by this point. Most he’d be annoyed with by now, but he misses her now when she’s gone and he works in utter silence late at night.
“To seeing if you now sing sea shanties when drunk,” he jokes as a pretend toast, raising his glass and taking a sip. It burns his throat and belly, then is followed by the pleasant sweet aftertaste and warmth. He doesn’t plan to really get drunk, but getting tipsy isn’t past him.
"Real women drink their bourbon straight," she smirks as she watches him go to pour them both a drink. She'll accept one from him, but she learned awhile ago to be careful when Nina is controlling the drinks- she has such a heavy hand, it's near-impossible to not get completely sloshed.
She smiles her thanks as she takes the glass offered to her. She laughs at the mock toast and lightly clinks her glass against his own before taking that first, burning sip of her bourbon.
"I don't." Stated for the record, but there's still a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
“I’ll let all the fake ones I come across know. Next time I’ll just hand you the bottle to swig.” Nina does have an incredibly high tolerance. A suspiciously high tolerance Kaz sometimes teases. He wonders if her heartrender abilities help her to metabolize booze faster. Kaz likes to think he has a decent tolerance, but Nina and Jesper shoot his out of the water. Then again, he’s both not a Grisha and he also doesn’t let himself get really drunk much. Tipsy sure, but Kaz is too much of a control freak to ever want to get to the point in drinking where he can’t control what he’s doing or thinking.
Besides, seeing Inej’s smile and hearing her laugh makes him feel warm and lightheaded without even taking a sip yet.
Settling back down in his seat, he takes a drink finally, enjoying the burn from his throat to his belly and how it’s followed by another warm and sweet sensation and taste. Might this be what it’d feel like to kiss her?
He swallows another sip.
“Mm. You don’t yet,” he teases her, leaning back in his chair and giving her a mischievous look.
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noreasonneeded) wrote2024-03-25 08:40 am
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"It's much more fun for me this way," she says from her perch in the window of his office. She knew he would be here, he usually was. Especially at this time of night. "Not many can say they hold the power to make Kaz Brekker...squirm."
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“I’m hardly squirming. I’m studying.” At that his gaze flicks upwards towards where she’s perched upon his windowsill. It’s become synonymous for him, her and that place, so much so that he moved his office downstairs into Haskell’s old one. It’s also less walking up and down the stairs during the day, that’s his practical excuse. What he hasn't said is the fact that he keeps getting distracted looking towards that window ledge when he’s up here, missing that she isn’t there when she’s at sea.
He’s kept his old desk in his bedroom so he could still work at it throughout the night when sleep eludes him. “The crows will be glad you’re back so they can con you out of birdseed.” Nevermind that he’s taken it upon himself to feed her birds in her absence.
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"Someone's been over-feeding them," she says, the teasing tilt of her words colored in amusement. "Too much bread, I think." she glances back at him over her shoulder. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
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Reaching out he lifts up his coffee cup, draining the last dregs of caffeine. It doesn’t taste particularly good right now, stale and cold, but Kaz couldn’t care less. His eating habits are much like the rest of the way he operates. He’ll eat or drink anything and think it’s fine as long as it gets the job done. He might have preferences, such as coffee over tea, but at the end of the day he’s never lost the canal rat realization that any food is worthwhile if he’s hungry.
Setting his cup aside, one eyebrow of his arches. Leaning back in his chair he muses with absolute innocence, “That doesn’t sound like me. Nina’s the bleeding heartrender of this group when you’re gone. Although if they get fat enough we could always turn one of them into dinner.” No, he wouldn’t actually do that.
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She scoffs softly. "Oh, sure. You and that black hole where your heart should be, yes?" she rolls her eyes playfully at that.
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Inej, too, has legends surrounding her. First as the Wraith in Ketterdam, and now she’s building a reputation out on the seas as one not to be trifled with. He likes that there’s more to her than that, too.
“I trust you won’t think less of me because I also happen to be hilarious,” he adds with a faint smirk. He trusts her, period. “Most people don’t need to see more of me than they do. Might ruin some of the mystique. Much like I’m sure you’re protective of your reputation as the Wraith out on the water.”
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“Quite the opposite, actually. It makes you much more attractive than you already are.” the words come easy and light, like they talked like this all the time.
“Plenty of mystique left, even knowing you have some sort of sense of humor,” she points out, lifting her eyebrows.
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Reaching his hands behind his head, he stretches and rolls his shoulders, feeling the pleasant pop of joints gone stiff while he’s been in thought. In her keeping the tone easy and light they can pretend there hasn’t been years of buildup to talks like this, that it’s merely no different than the many random conversations they’ve entertained as hours ticked past them. “You have a slyer sense of humor than many give you credit for, while we’re on the topic. It’s good. It means I’m never bored when we talk.” Which is a huge compliment coming from Kaz, who sizes up, assesses, and dismisses most of the world within moments socially. He’s an introvert who often prefers his own thoughts, save for a select few. “Are you hungry? I have some things stashed in my drawers. And safe.” The snacks he knows she likes he’s stored so that nobody with sticky fingers can reach. Jesper might attempt to ransack his drawers, the Dregs have a policy of eat or be eaten, but nobody can break into his safe.
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Inej can feel her lips twitch in one corner of her mouth as he settles in his place. This might be one of the most at-peace moments she’s ever witnessed in him.
“Depends on what you have,” she tips her head slightly to one side, a curious glint in her eye at the idea of snacks.
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“Not too much,” he admits as he leans over to pull open one of his desk drawers. “I only keep things that won’t go bad or ask for ants.” Still, Kaz often doesn’t stop to eat all day. When his body finally demands nourishment, he’s usually up here at work and he doesn’t want to waste time and effort going down into the kitchens. So he’ll just grab a handful of whatever’s on hand and call it a day. He takes out a container of mixed nuts, a bag of dried jerky, wrapped fruit-flavored candies, and a package of crackers. Setting them out on his desk for her to help herself if she wants, he cracks open the container and shakes some nuts out into his hand.
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The smile never leaves her face and softens a little at the edges. In the space of a blink, she's swapped from standing in front of him to perching on the corner as she inspects the goods. She plucks one of the candies and unwraps it, glancing back up at him for a moment, "Thank you," she says, her tone soft, and then she pops the candy into her mouth.
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His eyes drop down for a moment to where she’s perching, right by her the small indent where Jesper had gotten restless and played with Kaz’s letter opener to the desk’s detriment a very long time ago. Every indent that happened on Kaz’s watch he remembers. His mind forgets nothing.
He won’t forget the sight of her sitting so comfortably close to him, enjoying the food he’s set out a safe distance from his work. Where words often fail him, it’s easier to simply show his feelings through gestures like ensuring there’s never an empty pantry at the Slat. He gives a little nod at her gratitude, never really knowing how to respond when people thank him. “We have a candy shop now, I figure one of the perks is seeing what they have to offer.” We as in the Dregs, Kaz took over the sweets shop along with all the rest of Rollins’ businesses. The quince candies make his heart ache a little, though while he doesn’t eat them now a part of him is glad they’re still around along with other flavors of fruit candy. After a beat he admits, “It wasn’t a life goal to own one, but here we are.” It’s rare for Kaz to admit that he hasn’t plotted and planned since birth to specifically run a sweetshop, but to Inej, it feels a little safer to acknowledge just how far he’s come.
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"Not a bad investment, people are always suckers for sweets," she shrugs a little.
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Reaching out then he joins her by unwrapping a candy of his own and putting it into his mouth. It’s a hard candy, sweet and tart from the fruit. Kaz Brekker is one of those very illusive, rare individuals who can suck on a candy until it’s gone rather than impulsively biting it to chew on the shards. Jesper is at the other end of that spectrum, Kaz has watched in disbelief as the man shattered large balls of hard candy with his teeth without requiring a healer on hand. Yet.
“I wonder if it’s meant as a double-meaning when candies are called suckers.” One because they are meant to be sucked, and two because people are suckers for them. “Nina’s over the moon and already has some specials being offered that are by her design. It’s a good business, especially since the plague rumors have died down.” Granted he started them. “Plus knowing they were Rollins’ makes me motivated for them to succeed under new management.” It’s a little surreal how far they’ve come. Inej a renowned Captain on the high seas, him cleaning up and restructuring more and more of his city. “You know you’re welcome to take some back to your crew. I imagine that and the liquor at the club would store well enough on a ship. They aren’t perishable.”
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Maybe mystery is what draws her to him.
"People do love plays on words," she agrees with a slight nod, it just makes sense. She smiles as he talks about the business. Same as he would any other under his watch, but that's the thing, isn't it? The product doesn't matter, it's the man at the top of the chain pulling the strings, and Kaz knows how to run a successful business just about better than anyone, she thinks.
She nods at the offer, "I think I will. They'd like that."
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He rubs his eyes a little, but it’s a pleasant tiredness rather than bone-deep weariness. There’s comfort and familiarity in having Inej in his bedroom and office once more, perched on his desk or on her windowsill. In talking about anything and nothing, from debating unsolved crimes to teasing one another over fate and the manners of birds. He folds his arms on the table after, speaking of no manners, and simply enjoys watching her form folded up lithely at his side. He doesn’t say that he cares more if she would like that than he does the rest of her crew, except perhaps Specht whom he’s worked with personally for years before he left to return to a life on the sea with her. Kaz always prioritizes those he cares about most, and he’s not apologetic about it. “Only downside is I won’t get to see you tipsy out there,” he teases her. “I’d hate to miss a drunk Inej balancing on the plank.”
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She surprises herself with the things that come out of her own mouth sometimes, and her tongue is loosest when she’s with people she is truly comfortable with. Few and far between as they may be… Kaz is definitely one of those few.
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Pouring two fingers into the glasses of the respective booze choices, he offers the bourbon to Inej before settling back in his seat with his whiskey. He’s glad she’s comfortable with him, they’ve wiled away many long nights in his room by this point. Most he’d be annoyed with by now, but he misses her now when she’s gone and he works in utter silence late at night.
“To seeing if you now sing sea shanties when drunk,” he jokes as a pretend toast, raising his glass and taking a sip. It burns his throat and belly, then is followed by the pleasant sweet aftertaste and warmth. He doesn’t plan to really get drunk, but getting tipsy isn’t past him.
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She smiles her thanks as she takes the glass offered to her. She laughs at the mock toast and lightly clinks her glass against his own before taking that first, burning sip of her bourbon.
"I don't." Stated for the record, but there's still a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
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Besides, seeing Inej’s smile and hearing her laugh makes him feel warm and lightheaded without even taking a sip yet.
Settling back down in his seat, he takes a drink finally, enjoying the burn from his throat to his belly and how it’s followed by another warm and sweet sensation and taste. Might this be what it’d feel like to kiss her?
He swallows another sip.
“Mm. You don’t yet,” he teases her, leaning back in his chair and giving her a mischievous look.
maybe wrapping this one soon? ❤️
We can wrap!
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