timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

[ 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.

I have a hard time seeing you as nervous.

[ it’s both meant to comfort him, and the truth. Kaz has always been some sort of infallible, to her. he’s always got the answer and he’s always the one who gets out of whatever hole he’s dug himself. and while inej knows he struggles and has his demons... Kaz being nervous is both an alien concept and almost...sweet.

but she doesn’t move away, as Kaz moves his hand to her jaw, and she searches his expression for what he may be thinking... ]

The worst thing that can happen is another attempt at another time.

[ easier said than done, when it comes to tackling past demons and old trauma. but the belief that they can achieve normalcy has to be within reach, even when it feels impossible. ]

At least, that is what I tell myself. Whenever I am nervous.

It happens on rare occasions. [ Like when he feels like he doesn't know what he's doing. During the Ice Court job, he hadn't had time to be nervous. And all through dealing with Van Eck's betrayal, he'd been fueled by anger rather than anything else, furious that he could've fallen for a similar trick that had gotten Jordie killed.

This was different—Inej is different. She's not a heist, a plan, a hustle. Nothing he can carefully plan out the odds for. Instead, he's always questioning himself, wondering if he's doing enough, if he even is enough. After all, he's the monster of the Barrel and she's...somehow managed not to be corrupted by Ketterdam's influence. ]

You leap off buildings regularly. [ He says, trying for some humor despite the twisting in his stomach. So many would say she's fearless, with how she climbs up walls and sits in rafters as if she belongs there with the birds.

Hand sliding down to her neck, he thinks about kissing her. About how they'd come so close in the hotel, when everything felt like it was unraveling. Leaning in, he chickens out on doing so, simply touching his forehead to hers, shutting his eyes briefly. ]

That is when I am least afraid.

[ with a small grin, because it's true. maybe because so few people can do what she does, or maybe because that is when inej has always felt free -- but stepping backwards off a high ledge feels like returning home, in comparison to watching kaz from the rafters with the knowledge that if she is not fast enough, he could die.

( he, of course, did not. but it was hard to shake, especially in the beginning. )

his hand slides down to her neck, and he leans forward, and he can likely feel her pulse quicken. but inej doesn't move away, as kaz rests her forehead against hers.

willing to try. she reflects on that for a moment before she shifts slightly, to loosely loop her arms around his neck, continuing to speak as she does so. ]

Besides, once you fall, there is nothing left to fear.

[ unless that fall happens to be your last, and even if it is, then fear sort of ends, there. ]

Only you'd be unafraid of such a thing.

[ There are others who share the same lack of fear on clambering across rooftops, of course. But none have ever had her effortless grace, her total confidence that she was going to connect from point a to point b without any trouble. And watching her leap across gaps in buildings is like seeing someone fly. If he didn't know any better, he would think she has a pair of wings. ]

Another Suli proverb? [ It isn't said with his usual amount of skepticism, instead replaced by a curiosity. Perhaps the former is tempered by her arms looping around his neck, the slight weight of the embrace welcome.

At least, until he can feel the telltale shake under his skin, the flash of water pressing his shoulders down. Not wanting to shove her away, he instead ducks under the loop of her arms, pulling his hand from her neck, and leaning back for a dizzying moment. Nausea creeps up and he swallows it down, sick and frustrated. ]

[ she's about to answer his question, but he suddenly ducks underneath the loop of her arms. too much, and she retracts her hands slowly, resting her fingertips on his forearms. ]

Not necessarily. More of a lesson learned.

[ she says after a moment, to answer his question. ]

Once you fall, you already know what it feels like. So it is easier, to not be afraid of falling, once you already know how it feels to lose control.

[ she's quiet for a moment before she runs a thumb over the cloth of his coat, against his forearm. she watches him carefully before she speaks, voice gentle: ]

What do you need?

[ At her hands on his forearms, his knee jerk reaction is to pull away completely, all touch feeling like too much.

No, he can do this.

He keeps his gaze lowered, watching the back and forth motion of her thumbs along the sleeves of his coat. Alive, he reminds himself, she's alive. Not a corpse floating facedown in a harbor, skin slick and deformed.

Taking in a shaky breath, he takes in everything that's different. They're in his room, sitting on her bed, sunlight filtering in through the window. He's just brushed and braided her hair, barehanded. The nausea wanes, enough to let him speak up without worrying a sob will come out instead. ]

Keep talking. Please.

[ keep talking. a relatively easy request, though the fact that he isn't looking at her concerns her. still -- inej had asked a question, and received an answer. far be it for her to argue now.

so she continues to run her thumb over his forearm, in a soothing motion, casting her mind around for something to talk about, before she settles on a story: ]

When I was with my family, I always wanted to walk the tightrope. I had to argue for weeks with my mother to allow me the opportunity. But my father taught me. And eventually, I decided I was ready for the high wire.

[ her tone sounds amused. the memory is a fond one, as she gently runs her thumb around in a circle. ]

I fell. I got distracted, and I landed in the net, but was hurt. A concussion. And after that, I refused to use the net. The net would hurt me more than the fall.

[ or so inej told herself. ]

I have not fallen since.

[ of her own accord, anyway. she does not count the fight amongst the silos, the cut highwire, the slashing of her arms. ]

[ In the silence as she thinks, he keeps his eyes trained on the motion of her hands, something to keep him grounded as his mind tries to recreate something long in the past. It's a relief, though, when she speaks up. The story didn't have to be meaningful, just had to fill the quiet space, but he appreciates the fact that she's telling him this.

About some of her past, before Ketterdam. A glimpse into what her family was like. He'd met her parents but it'd been a brief thing, wanting to give her the most time with people she thought she'd never see again.

Tension loosens in his chest, breathing going from panicked gasps to a more regular inhale, exhale, the worst of the memories fading. Finally, he meets her eyes, mouth pressing into a strained half-smile. ]

You're sure you don't have an invisible set of wings?

[ she immediately greets his gaze with a breathed laugh, shaking her head slightly as she gently squeezes his arms. ]

No wings. [ amused, sliding her hands down his arms briefly before letting go, settling her hands in her lap as she watches him. ] But when I was a girl, I wore a crown of flower petals, and would pretend to nearly lose my balance. So the petals would fall.

[ and her voice shifts from amusement into something more knowing. ]

Tourists would pay more if they thought I could fall. I think wings would have ruined the illusion.

[ When she pulls her hands away, he has a mixed reaction. Part of him misses it, the bit of warmth from her palms that he could feel bleeding through the suit coat. The other part is relieved. And then annoyed that he feels that way at all. It's not as though she'd been touching any skin. ]

Calculating.

[ But that's how they manage to get by: providing entertainment for tourists who don't know better. And a few kruge more can stack up, as they're both well aware. ]

If they were invisible, they wouldn't have needed to know. [ It does make it more exciting to know she doesn't, that every step out onto a roof or high wire is a testament to her skill. Though he can't say he'd hate it if there was an extra assurance she'd have something to catch her, just in case.

Maybe that's his own background talking, considering how well he'd landed after jumping off a bank roof. ]

I suppose, but having invisible wings would just make me lazy.

[ mildly, entertaining the silly hypothesis because it keeps him talking . . . but she tilts her head slightly, catching his gaze, her smile morphing into something a bit more soft. ]

How do you feel?

[ he sounds a little bit more like himself, and his breathing has calmed into something nearly normal. ]

Somehow, I doubt that.

[ Who knows, though? The entire theory is just that, a theory. An amusement at best.

At her question, he considers his words. Up until recently, touching anyone brought him a wave of disgust, a repulsion that kept him well away from coming in contact with a person. In the early days, immediately after stumbling out of the harbor, half drowned, he hadn't been able to handle touching anyone even with gloves on. Enough fist fights in the Barrel had cured him of that peculiarity fairly quick.

Now, he supposes, he'll need something similar: exposure. Do something enough that it becomes a habit.

Still— ]

Frustrated. [ His gaze drops to his hands momentarily, curling the fingers loosely into his palms. ] Not at you, just.

[ This. Himself. He hasn't gone through what she has and yet, she's the one holding her hand out time and again, without hesitation. ]

[ there's a soft noise of understanding, at that, before she pulls her legs up against her chest, her ankles crossed beneath her as she loops her arms around her knees, thoughtful. ]

I almost hit Nina, the first time she hugged me. And I still am getting used to Jesper.

[ it's said finally, with half a shrug. inej doesn't sound too bothered by it, because (1) nina could drop her where she stood any day of the week and twice on tuesdays and (2) nina understood, immediately, why inej's muscles had seized, why she had become so tense. and while she's never told jesper about her difficulty, inej is certain he wouldn't think twice. she can almost hear his how are you afraid of anybody, you're the scariest thing in the barrel in surprise. ]

I learned how to compartmentalize because I had to. [ she doesn't go into detail, because she doesn't necessarily have to. ] Now, I am learning how to . . . feel. And allow myself to feel it. And it is hard. It will likely never be easy.

[ all of this to say: ]

But you will learn how to exist fully, and so will I. It will just take time. And frustration, and mistakes. But it will happen; I truly do believe that.

[ they both deserve happiness, regardless of what cards the world has dealt them in the beginning. to hell with the rest. ]

OPEN POST 2020.

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