[ he's in pain. she can tell, by the movement of his arms, how slowly it takes him to tug on his coat. but inej allows him the space to do so, carefully watching for an opportunity to help. she finds one in straightening his coat, tugging it a bit firmer around his shoulders, smoothing out the fabric against his sides.
saints, she wants nothing more than to stay in the attic and pretend the world outside doesn't exist. but they need to get back to nina, matthias, jesper, wylan. everyone crammed into the geldrunner, waiting for the next move. so she sighs to herself, turning to collect kaz's cane and gloves, thinking out loud to herself: ]
You should be able to go through the back alleys, now. It would be quicker, safer than injuring yourself on the rooftops. [ with the added bonus that inej would be watching his back from above, ready to drop whoever came near him with a well-placed throw of her blade. ] Or I'll come with you, the longer way.
[ she can at least be there to pull him up when he lands. and, without looking up from her task of finding his gloves, she says: ]
[ She steps into his space again when she tugs his coat straight, making sure the lapels laid flat and the shoulders weren't bunched up. It's harder to feel the warmth of her hands through two layers but the pressure is enough. Really, he shouldn't like it, not after the beating he took—everything aches.
He craves it, though, despite everything. Feels that same urge to let her keep going, to fold himself in towards her and shut out the rest of everything.
There's work to be done, however. And Kaz Brekker does not leave loose ends. ]
I'll take the alleys. [ Now that the Dregs are squared away, he won't have to dodge Haskell's ire. There are other gangs but he and Inej know the paths that will circumvent their territories. Or will at least let them pass mostly unnoticed.
At her sharp reminder, he nearly sighs, going to pick the jar of salve back up again. Limping over to the small mirror near his dresser, he carefully applies some of the balm to his face, wincing occasionally when his fingers pass over a cut. It stings worse than the ones on his chest—face wounds always did. ]
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saints, she wants nothing more than to stay in the attic and pretend the world outside doesn't exist. but they need to get back to nina, matthias, jesper, wylan. everyone crammed into the geldrunner, waiting for the next move. so she sighs to herself, turning to collect kaz's cane and gloves, thinking out loud to herself: ]
You should be able to go through the back alleys, now. It would be quicker, safer than injuring yourself on the rooftops. [ with the added bonus that inej would be watching his back from above, ready to drop whoever came near him with a well-placed throw of her blade. ] Or I'll come with you, the longer way.
[ she can at least be there to pull him up when he lands. and, without looking up from her task of finding his gloves, she says: ]
Salve.
[ fix your damn face already. ]
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He craves it, though, despite everything. Feels that same urge to let her keep going, to fold himself in towards her and shut out the rest of everything.
There's work to be done, however. And Kaz Brekker does not leave loose ends. ]
I'll take the alleys. [ Now that the Dregs are squared away, he won't have to dodge Haskell's ire. There are other gangs but he and Inej know the paths that will circumvent their territories. Or will at least let them pass mostly unnoticed.
At her sharp reminder, he nearly sighs, going to pick the jar of salve back up again. Limping over to the small mirror near his dresser, he carefully applies some of the balm to his face, wincing occasionally when his fingers pass over a cut. It stings worse than the ones on his chest—face wounds always did. ]