timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

Swoon, then. [ He grins at her, cheeky. Swooning, fainting, same difference. And truthfully, he can't say he's never felt a bit light headed around Inej. Usually when she's flashing her knives about.

That probably says something about him, doesn't it? ]

No, it'll be fine. She grew up in the Barrel, she won't be too bothered. [ In fact, their first meeting had seen her giving him lip. ] Unless you need the practice. Can't imagine there's too many opportunities to give people a scare from rafters while on a ship.

[ inej has a hard time envisioning anyone swooning over her, and so his cheeky grin is rewarded with a dubious look, followed by a sigh of the exasperated nature. ]

No, I will say hello to her.

[ she won’t use yara as a test subject to keep her skills sharp. she can use dumb merchers for that. ]

It will be good to see her, anyway. And I may have questions that you do not.

[ and this way yara can be spared asking Kaz brekker if the wraith is back. ]

Alright.

[ He's interested you see how it pans out. Both of them are accomplished, though Yara is relatively new. ]

It won't be til late morning, so you'll have a chance to sleep in. [ A sometimes luxury in the Barrel. But she isn't beholden to the Dregs or their constant movements any longer. She could sleep until noon if she wanted.

He tilts his head to regard her, impulsively curling the tip of a hair lock around his finger. In the braid it doesn't seem as long as it truly is, so much of it settled like a sheet around her shoulders.

Hastily, he unwinds the curl, pulling his hand away. ]

I'll be up early to finish the club's numbers. [ So really, he should move away, get in bed. But he likes the lean of her weight against his side and wants to let the moment last a little longer. ]

[ sometimes, she's tempted to cut it. mostly because long hair can be something of a burden, in her line of work. but she has so few things left, from home (her old home), and some things just can't be sacrificed. her faith, for one. and her long hair, that she inherited from her mother, is another.

so she braids it, to keep it out of the way. and really only lets it out of said braid at night.

she doesn't react, when he idly plays with her hair, though she does notice that he hastily pulls it away. too much? or maybe kaz just didn't realize he was doing it. as he seemed relaxed, the second was more likely, and so inej doesn't comment. instead, she just offers him a small smile at the remark that he has to get up early.

truthfully, she's exhausted. the storm had been a few nights of no sleep, and she had been so determined to get to ketterdam that sleep often eluded her. upon arrival, she hadn't really given herself the chance to rest, instead rushing to see her friends -- which she did not regret in the slightest, but it was time to sleep.

such a thing, apparently, that kaz was not willing to suggest first.

gathering her bravery, she turns slightly, to gently rest her forehead against his temple for a moment before moving to stand, shifting her weight to lean away from him. ]

Then you should sleep.

[ or try, anyway. ]

Edited (html wtf) 2020-05-24 21:17 (UTC)

[ The press of her forehead is brief, not nearly enough time for a poor reaction. Already, he misses how close they'd been sitting. It's tempting to ask her to stay but he can see the tiredness on her face, the lines under her eyes deeper than usual.

And honestly, he thinks he could actually rest easier tonight, despite the oddity of sharing his room for the first time in years. Here she's safe, so his mind won't be turning over the worry of her ship sinking or something horrible happening to her while she's out at sea.

He waits until she's climbed into bed to get up, capping off the candles and cracking the bedroom door. The lamp at his side table gets turned down and darkness drapes over the room, only a sliver of moonlight peeking from under the doorway and behind the curtains. Sliding under the covers, he lets out a quiet sigh, content. ]

Good night, Inej.

[ it's a relatively uneventful two weeks. inej tags along with kaz on meetings more often than not (either in person, if it would help, or hidden in the rafters, if it would not). she spends copious amounts of time with jesper and wylan, and she wanders her city without a care in the world.

she collects information. new slaver routes. attempts to avoid her. they'll fail, but inej makes notes of the ones who are brave enough to try. her ship is slowly being repaired, relatively on schedule, and her crew seems happy to wait it out while the wraith is restored to her glory.

it's a cloudy day in ketterdam, as she sits cross-legged on her bed. she's dressed, but in bare feet and a looser top, slowly brushing out her hair. she's finished stretching for the morning, and offering her prayers to the saints. and as an added bonus, she has no real plans today, and she's unsure what kaz is planning on doing for the day. so inej is in no real rush, when it comes to getting ready for the day.

and she has a lot of hair to get through. ]

[ Two weeks pass in something like a blur. He and Inej fall into a rhythm of sorts—not quite like old times but reminiscent of them. She's free to do as she likes now. Which is why it's slightly surprising that she typically goes with on meetings.

But then, he supposes, information is useful, even when she won't be here at the end of the month. Something he's trying not to think about.

Because while those first couple days of sharing his room had been oddly stilted, he's gotten used to it. And it's nice having her in his space. Even if it could be seen as embarrassingly domestic. He can admit to himself he'd be happy doing this all the time and maybe that happiness is a bit more apparent—Anika herself had commented on him scowling less.

It helps there's been hardly any reason for his displeasure. As though the Barrel is behaving itself while Inej is here. Normally the silence precedes bad news, but he hasn't heard a single strange thing as of late. None of the Dregs are commenting on it, preferring to keep up the luck of a quiet couple weeks. The lack of gang interference gives him time to catch up on smaller tasks and to simply enjoy the time he has with Inej.

Like the last hour or so he's spent furtively watching her do morning stretches. He'd fled to the office on the bottom floor the first morning she'd done it, mouth going dry at the sight of her nearly bending herself in half. Since then, he's...adjusted to the sight, though his heartbeat still goes a little funny during.

It's still doing that now, albeit a slightly different skip beat, as she brushes her hair out. There's that familiar twitch in his fingers, always wanting to reach out and comb through it.

This time, he doesn't chicken out. ]

Let me do that. [ Uh. There's a half second delay before: ] Please.

[ she honestly doesn't notice whether kaz is uncomfortable with her morning routine, mostly because she never really thought that it was a mystery to him. she has to be limber and fluid in order to do what she does . . . and past the pragmatic reason behind her schedule, it's calming and soothing. it allows her to be in touch with her body, and herself, and center her focus.

as such, she doesn't find it weird, that kaz doesn't interrupt her, or talk to her during the morning. or leaves her be, to go do something else. but on this morning, he decides to do work in the same general area, and he even talks by . . . suddenly requesting that he brush her hair.

her fingers pause, eyes flickering toward him, surprised by the request. and inej doesn't immediately hand over the brush, instead: ]

You know how to braid hair?

[ she might sound amused. ]

[ He knows how to braid hair. In theory. And maybe a long forgotten memory—impression, really—of doing so with small fingers to a horse's mane, back in Lij. That might as well be a daydream for how much of it he really remembers.

Still. ]

I've seen you braid it for the past four years, it can't be that difficult. [ Famous last words, perhaps. Then again, he is good with his hands, so maybe not. If she lets him, they'll find out. ]

[ she arches her eyebrows slightly, because that is definitely not the same as knowing how to do it. ~~and also, how closely has he been watching her braid her hair?~~

still, there's no real harm that can result of him trying, and so she tosses the brush up into the hair, catching it neatly by the head before offering it to kaz, handle first. ]

Do not pull out my hair.

[ it's a warning made in jest, as she pats the bed next to her, turning to face the window so he could access all of her hair by sitting behind her. ]

[ ~~very closely, don't look at him, he might love her hair too much~~

He pulls his gloves off and sticks them in his coat pocket before he takes the brush and the invitation to sit. ]

I won't. [ Kaz says it as seriously as he does most things. Because he really does want to be careful.

The mattress creaks a bit as he finds a better way to sit, mostly so his leg won't cramp. Then he starts to brush out some of the tangles still near the ends of her hair. He's careful not to pull, working out the knots with surprising patience.

(Or maybe not surprising, with his talent for picking complicated locks).

Eventually, the tangled mess is conquered and he combs his fingers through her hair, liking the silky feel. ]

[ she remains still, allowing her eyes to close, to relax at the feeling of her hair being brushed. and, true to his word, he does not pull on her hair, being remarkably gentle with the motion.

she thinks the last time someone brushed her hair was nina... or perhaps her mother, when she was in ketterdam. it wouldn't have been anyone else. but it's comforting, calming and soothing. ]

Do you know how to start?

[ it's said after a moment, her eyes still closed, her lips twitching into a small smile.

she might be teasing, because he enjoys playing with her hair. or she might genuinely be convinced he has no idea what he's doing and offering him a lifeline.

maybe a bit of both. ]

[ At her question, he feels a tinge of embarrassment. While he's fairly sure he knows how to start, he'd gotten caught up in brushing his fingers through the strands. Touching without coming in contact with skin.

He fully sets the brush aside and starts to carefully section her hair off. ]

If I get stuck, I'll say so. [ This part is tricky, not because of any actual difficulty level, but merely because he doesn't want to accidentally skim the back of her exposed neck. Not when his gloves are off; they've been able to do small touches, brief things that don't allow enough time for a bad reaction to settle in. But there's always the fear at the back of his mind, so he avoids it as best he can.

The first round of braid, he gets three swipes in before knowing it's not right. He undoes it and corrects himself, mentally keeping track of the pattern: underhand, overhand. When he gets to the end, he pinches with his thumb and forefinger, keeping it from unraveling. ]

Do you have a tie?

Edited (Spacing) 2020-05-25 01:34 (UTC)

[ inej can tell when he begins that it isn’t right, but she remains quiet, allowing him the space to figure it out. and she purses her lips together to prevent from smiling too much as he undoes it and starts over... because he did say he would ask if he got stuck.

when he asks for a tie, she raises her left arm to reveal her wrist, which has the tie wrapped around it, her eyes still closed.

maybe a little impressed he figured it out. ]

[ She brings her wrist up and this is just another little test to see how much contact he can avoid. This should be fine, right?

There's definitely a delay before he hooks his finger through the loop on her wrist, bracing himself for the ugly feeling in his gut. It doesn't come as he pulls it over her hand and he feels that sense of relief when it stays away. They've held hands before, this shouldn't be so hard.

Yet, every time he gets through another brush of skin, it's something.

He ties off the end of the braid and then runs his palm lightly along the length of it, satisfied. ]

Done.

[ the delay is noticeable, as are the careful avoidances of touching her neck. but Kaz finishes without incident, and inej opens her eyes, reaching back with her hands to gently feel her own hair before she makes a noise of approval. ]

I stand corrected.

[ she says with half a laugh before shifting her weight, unfolding her legs so she can sit sideways, to see him. she pulls her knees up loosely against her chest, wrapping her arms around them lazily. mostly to allow Kaz more space on the bed; it’s clear she’s comfortable and relaxed. ]

Thank you.

[ Her hands double check the work and her small laugh at the success has him smiling, just a bit. After all, it's hard not to do so at the sound, as warm as it is. ]

Seems lock picking transfers to other skills. [ When is he ever going to need to braid someone else's hair? Well, it doesn't matter. It worked out here with her, who is the only person he can see himself doing this with. ]

I don't have plans until tonight. [ He leaves it open-ended, not sure if she has anything she scheduled. And really, his plan for later is simply stopping by the club to make sure Pim doesn't need help training one of the new dealers. ]

[ ah. kaz having his day relatively open suddenly puts into perspective why he's lingered around here, shared space during her morning routine. and the sudden openness of the day allows inej to consider the possibility that they truly have nowhere else to be. ]

I do not have any plans at all.

[ it's said easily, before she turns to face him properly, folding her legs gracefully before she holds out her hands with a smile. ]

May I try something?

[ if there's no place to be, then there's no harm in being adventurous. ]

[ Having almost no plans is a bit strange. He's used to having so much to do during the day; running a gang is a lot of work with many moving parts.

Of course, he isn't going to say no to some free time, not with Inej here.

At her question, he nods and only hesitates a fraction before placing his hands in hers. It's a good day, with no immediate rush of feeling harbor water up to his neck. He likes that they can typically hold hands. A small vulnerability he's become eager to give her. ]

[ it always strikes her how different their hands are. inej's hands are rougher . . . due to the climbing, surely, and now the sea. but kaz's hands are much more delicate. or at least they look it. she doesn't envy anyone who is on the opposing end of kaz brekker if they decide to test their luck.

all the same, she scoots herself a little bit closer, her knee touching his leg. ]

I had a dream, last night. [ she begins, talking to fill the space as she squeezes his fingers. ] I was in a cage, with bars. There was no cot, no blanket, nothing. A padlock, and a chain. And I could not find my way out of it. And there were other cages, but most of them were empty. I was the only one who remained trapped.

[ she pulls his hand a little closer, almost examining it, bringing his right hand to eye-level. ]

You were there. And you had figured out how to get out of your cage. [ a bit ruefully, because of course he did. ] When I asked how you did it, you told me you picked the lock, and when I asked with what, you told me it was irrelevant.

[ jackass. ]

But when I asked how I was supposed to get out, you told me that I could figure it out.

[ and she gently presses her cheek to the back of kaz's hand, continuing to talk as she does so. ]

I realized that the bars were narrow, but not so narrow that I could not slip through them. So I walked out of the cage, without opening a single door.

[ She takes his hands in hers, starting in on a description of her dream. The first touches aren't so bad, her reassuring squeeze something he's become used to– how strange to think, that he could adjust to something like this at all.

As she raises one hand closer, he can feel the apprehension building, but the even tone of her voice keeps him here. Grounded. This couldn't be the harbor or the rictus-stricken fingers of the dead, not with her calm ups and downs, describing in detail the cage she'd dreamt of. There's a flicker of a smile when she says his dream self had told her to figure it out; well, at least he remains characteristic in every aspect.

Possibly not a good thing? Hard to say.

There's a sharp intake of breath, though, when she presses her cheek to his knuckles, tension running through him. As always, he braces for the sickness, the way his stomach curls in on itself at the slightest brush. He can feel a tremble run down that arm, wanting and not wanting at the same time.

The wanting, he thinks, after a few seconds, wins out. He turns his hand in her grasp, settling his palm against the side of her face, thumb brushing her cheek, forcing himself to swallow down the wave of nerves. ]

You always did catch on quickly.

[ she remains still, as she talks, and as kaz inhales sharply. steeling himself, maybe, from the contact. and for half a moment, inej thinks that perhaps she's pushed too much.

but as he turns his hand over and runs his thumb over her cheek, the grin is instantaneous, her eyes bright. ]

Do you think so?

[ amused, as she remains still, and she removes her hand from his own, to allow him the freedom to continue to touch her, if he wants, or to withdraw his hand. ]

The dream ended with trying to figure out how to leave the prison we were in. [ as she tilts her head slightly, into the palm of his hand. ] I woke up before I found out.

[ but by the tone of her voice, inej is fairly certain they made it out. ]

Yes.

[ He gives her a tentative smile, her grin infectious– it always has been, but it's good to return the gesture. And he does mean it, she'd caught on quickly upon joining the Dregs, a determined tilt to her chin from the first day. Every obstacle had been leapt over.

And now here she is. Here they both are. He doesn't withdraw his hand, some of the sharpness falling away from his gaze as she tilts her head towards the touch. ]

We made it out of the Ice Court, a simple prison would be nothing.

I don't remember feeling afraid or concerned, in my dream.

[ amused, watching him. at peace. because he's correct; a regular prison is a tuesday afternoon, for them.

she's quiet for a moment, letting them sit in silence, leaning into his touch. but after a few more moments, she speaks, her voice quiet. ]

How do you feel?

[ it's important, to try and sort it out. to figure out where the line is, and where to stop, and where to start. she knows she needs to do it, too, but she has two more weeks (or so) with kaz. with ketterdam. and all progress is celebrated, but she would be remiss to leave the city without trying her very hardest to grow. ]

Not too bad a dream.

[ Kaz rarely remembers his own, but they're usually rife with stress. They're a mix of dreams and memories, the latter getting warped by the oddness of the mind. After all, nightmares weren't beholden to reality, they could be as close to the truth or as far from it as it wanted.

Of course, there have been some good ones of late. Ones that leave him feeling peaceful upon waking, as he does now with his hand on her cheek. ]

Nervous. [ Because it's always there, never knowing if he was going to be tossed back into the harbor. To feeling his dead brother's wet skin under his fingers. How he hadn't gotten to say goodbye, too feverish himself to tell what was happening when the plague rolled through.

But, she's willing to try. Willing to let him in and he wants to meet that where he can. So, he slowly slides his palm from her cheek to her jaw, expression questioning. ]

Willing to try.

OPEN POST 2020.

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