Kaz Brekker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
everymonstrousthing) wrote2016-02-21 10:32 pm
everymonstrousthing) wrote2016-02-21 10:32 pm
For Inej
With his cane in his hand, he feels more like himself again. More solid on his feet. He hadn't seen her since Valentine's Day, mostly because he's been avoiding her. There's only so much humiliation that he's willing to stomach. He might have given her all of the peace in the world, if it wasn't for the fact that he can't stop thinking about the warm press of her mouth on his.
There's a bakery just down the road from Dimera that does small fruit cakes not a million miles away from things she would have liked in Ketterdam. He's got a box tied with twine in one hand so he raps on her door with the head of his cane.
He ignores an uncharacteristic flutter of nerves.
There's a bakery just down the road from Dimera that does small fruit cakes not a million miles away from things she would have liked in Ketterdam. He's got a box tied with twine in one hand so he raps on her door with the head of his cane.
He ignores an uncharacteristic flutter of nerves.
no subject
Her weight over him, on to of him, her hands on his shoulders, thumbs skimming the lines of bones through white cotton, and she's not wearing gloves, of course, so he can feel the heat of her palms through his shirt. He lets out a sound, a little breath, broken, relived. He lets his head fall back for a moment, eyes closed, still stinging. His own hands come up and skim, just barely, along the length of her thighs, up to her hips. He holds on to her so lightly.
"I don't think I knew," he says. "Before." He looks up at her, how beautiful she looks with all of the light in the room behind her. "It was that day in the harbour."
He doesn't say it, can't say it, but he knows that she'll know what he means. Her blood soaking through his shirt.