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this is how she makes me feel...
Mar. 2nd, 2016 10:15 pmIt's a pattern that they've fallen into, since that night she'd slipped into his lap, touched his shoulders so gently. In Ketterdam, they'd got used to existing in each other's space, in and out of each other's rooms, eating together, talking mostly to each other. This is a natural continuance of that, Kaz supposes, only now feelings are out in the open, vulnerable to the air. Now they both know exactly what they're doing.
So it's different, incredibly so, but it feels familiar all the same.
Without really discussing it, it's Inej's apartment that they spend all of their time together in. Kaz has started stripping off his gloves as soon as he comes through the door. He deliberately leaves his tailoring in his own apartment, coming to her in softer layers, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, until they go to bed and he pulls his sleeves down over his hands so that he can drape an arm over her in lieu of actually being able to pull her close. It's small, but it's progress. They cook together, eat together, are learning to watch television together - Kaz finds that he enjoys films, dislikes programmes because they're short and, often, seem pointless. They sit relatively close together on the couch and, every so often, Inej touches him. Usually, those touches are over clothes - a brush of fingers against his bicep, his thigh, his chest. She touches the backs of her fingers lightly against his cheek. On her way to the kitchen, she ruffles his fingers through his hair. She keeps the touches light, casual, but Kaz knows what she's doing and he keeps a mental record of those casual touches. He catalogues every one.
He comes back from the kitchen chill from sitting perched on the window to smoke a cigarette, a pair of beers in hand. He offers her one before he slides back onto the middle seat of the sofa, as close to her as he can be without touching her.
"What are we watching, Wraith?" he asks, a light note of teasing in his rough voice.
So it's different, incredibly so, but it feels familiar all the same.
Without really discussing it, it's Inej's apartment that they spend all of their time together in. Kaz has started stripping off his gloves as soon as he comes through the door. He deliberately leaves his tailoring in his own apartment, coming to her in softer layers, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, until they go to bed and he pulls his sleeves down over his hands so that he can drape an arm over her in lieu of actually being able to pull her close. It's small, but it's progress. They cook together, eat together, are learning to watch television together - Kaz finds that he enjoys films, dislikes programmes because they're short and, often, seem pointless. They sit relatively close together on the couch and, every so often, Inej touches him. Usually, those touches are over clothes - a brush of fingers against his bicep, his thigh, his chest. She touches the backs of her fingers lightly against his cheek. On her way to the kitchen, she ruffles his fingers through his hair. She keeps the touches light, casual, but Kaz knows what she's doing and he keeps a mental record of those casual touches. He catalogues every one.
He comes back from the kitchen chill from sitting perched on the window to smoke a cigarette, a pair of beers in hand. He offers her one before he slides back onto the middle seat of the sofa, as close to her as he can be without touching her.
"What are we watching, Wraith?" he asks, a light note of teasing in his rough voice.
