[ There's a smile lingering on his mouth when she kisses his cheek and then settles in to get comfortable. Her head is pillowed on his shoulder, legs slung over his thighs, the whole side of her body pressed up against his. As soon as she's done fidgeting, he can feel his muscles relax into her hold, a euphoric sense of peace blanketing him. ]
I will feel somewhat riotous. [ Kaz admits, tone both amused and sheepish in turn. Early mornings were not his favorite time of day. Most of his life had been spent seeing the dawn only because he'd managed to stay up through the night. The Barrel didn't sleep until late, past midnight, and even when the clubs wound down, the small hours were best to accomplish his many schemes.
To say that had been an odd adjustment when he'd arrived in Ketterdam would be an understatement. After all, they're back where he'd grown up, where people woke with the first crowing of the roosters and the shy peek of the sun over the horizon line washed everything in a fragile white light. Despite being too young to do the more hard labor on the farm, the three of them had always been up early, with his Da kindly shaking his boys awake and plying them with promises of a hot breakfast. ]
Very magnanimous of you. I'm sure their highnesses will show their appreciation by trying to peck at your shins.
[ Fussy little creatures that they are. Still, something about having fed the chickens for so many years has imbued the habit with a strange kind of affection. These aren't the ones he and Jordie and Da named–those hens are long gone–but the familiarity is...comforting, somehow.
Shaking his head minutely, he focuses on the heat radiating out from Inej, the sound of her steady inhale-exhale, trying to get his mind to let go of the racing thoughts. For once, luck is on his side, as the next thing he's aware of is the watery morning light creeping in through the windows. It washes the entire room out in a pale blue-white, a humid but crisp chill hanging in the air. He doesn't need to look to know Inej has already woken, the blankets on her side left in a crumple.
With nothing to keep him in the bed, he gets up, going through the motions of making himself at least somewhat presentable. Visitors weren't a frequent occurrence out this way, but, it was still possible. Neighbors could drop by unannounced, asking after fresh eggs or to borrow a cup of flour.
Hair sufficiently tamed and dressed more appropriately for the burgeoning spring, he makes his way downstairs, the tap of his cane louder than usual in the quiet of the house. As predicted, Inej is already in the kitchen, snugly swathed in an oversized jumper he's fairly sure used to be his. Making his way over, he puts a gentle hand on her waist as he drops a kiss to the part in her hair. ]
Good morning. [ His words are slightly muffled, spoken into the crown of her head. ] Sleep well?
no subject
I will feel somewhat riotous. [ Kaz admits, tone both amused and sheepish in turn. Early mornings were not his favorite time of day. Most of his life had been spent seeing the dawn only because he'd managed to stay up through the night. The Barrel didn't sleep until late, past midnight, and even when the clubs wound down, the small hours were best to accomplish his many schemes.
To say that had been an odd adjustment when he'd arrived in Ketterdam would be an understatement. After all, they're back where he'd grown up, where people woke with the first crowing of the roosters and the shy peek of the sun over the horizon line washed everything in a fragile white light. Despite being too young to do the more hard labor on the farm, the three of them had always been up early, with his Da kindly shaking his boys awake and plying them with promises of a hot breakfast. ]
Very magnanimous of you. I'm sure their highnesses will show their appreciation by trying to peck at your shins.
[ Fussy little creatures that they are. Still, something about having fed the chickens for so many years has imbued the habit with a strange kind of affection. These aren't the ones he and Jordie and Da named–those hens are long gone–but the familiarity is...comforting, somehow.
Shaking his head minutely, he focuses on the heat radiating out from Inej, the sound of her steady inhale-exhale, trying to get his mind to let go of the racing thoughts. For once, luck is on his side, as the next thing he's aware of is the watery morning light creeping in through the windows. It washes the entire room out in a pale blue-white, a humid but crisp chill hanging in the air. He doesn't need to look to know Inej has already woken, the blankets on her side left in a crumple.
With nothing to keep him in the bed, he gets up, going through the motions of making himself at least somewhat presentable. Visitors weren't a frequent occurrence out this way, but, it was still possible. Neighbors could drop by unannounced, asking after fresh eggs or to borrow a cup of flour.
Hair sufficiently tamed and dressed more appropriately for the burgeoning spring, he makes his way downstairs, the tap of his cane louder than usual in the quiet of the house. As predicted, Inej is already in the kitchen, snugly swathed in an oversized jumper he's fairly sure used to be his. Making his way over, he puts a gentle hand on her waist as he drops a kiss to the part in her hair. ]
Good morning. [ His words are slightly muffled, spoken into the crown of her head. ] Sleep well?