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The Wraith had docked in Berth 22 this morning.
Now, its Captain was perched on the leader of the Dreg’s desk, awaiting his return, as she was sure he’d been while she was out at sea.
The brief, vague, few letters they’d exchanged during her seven-month voyage on the water had been business-like. If anyone intercepted, it would appear like the words were simply the short catching up between Dirtyhands and his former spy.
But Inej, having fallen for the world’s most emotionally constipated boy, had learned to read between the lines. Every neutral word, every stoic signature spoke volumes. The very idea that Kaz had written her at all was massive.
He was trying. As best he could.
It had been two years since they’d stood at the dock, since he’d met her parents, gave her her true freedom. Two years, four partings, and a whole lot of yearning.
As much as she’d wanted to forget about Ketterdam and a certain gang boss within it when she’d set out on the True Sea for the first time, every time she’d closed her eyes to allow some rest, she’d see his face, remember a remark that had made her blush.
Every time her crewmates asked her about him, she’d found herself longing for the boy who smelled like smoke and honey.
Now, she didn’t even deny her feelings. At night, she welcomed the thoughts of him and his signature scowl. Treasured the rare memories she had of his smile. Dreamt happily of his coffee eyes.
His room was different, she noted. He’d upgraded his bed and pushed his desk from the middle of the space to the edge to make room for it. His curtains were new and velvet beige.
He’d also gotten a new bookshelf. It was massive, took up an entire wall. That mixed with all the brown accents and plants that were strewn about made the room look almost like a library.
She liked it. It looked more like a bedroom than an office now, as he’d moved into Haskell’s once he had left. Or rather, been forced out. Another thing Inej liked. Per Haskell was a bit of a creep and she was glad he was gone.
The thump of a cane on the stairs made Inej smile. She missed that sound. The door creaked open and Kaz stepped inside, his features softening at the sight of her.
“Hello, Inej,” He greeted. She missed his voice as well.
“Kaz.” She jumped silently from the desk and turned to face him fully. She took a few moments to take in his figure.
He was wearing all black, as usual, with silver pieces thrown in to match his cane: A belt buckle, a tie pin, the tiniest of stripes on his tie. She memorized every detail of his face, storing them to admire on her loneliest days at sea.
She let a small smile grace her face as he began taking off his gloves. He set the black leather behind her on his table.
“I heard you got in this morning. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”
“I went to the Van Eck mansion fist. They told me you were on a job. Only been here long enough to skim over the top layer of papers.” He chuckled.
“Good to know.” They sat in content silence for a few minutes while Kaz took off his jacket and suspenders and everything else he wore until he was in only his pants, shoes, and undershirt. She’d moved to make herself comfortable on his bed, flipping through one of the books he kept on his nightstand while he poured them tea.
He sat down next to her, his back pressed into the wall, and handed her a cup. She sipped it. Raspberry. It was her favorite.
“How was your time on the great ocean?”
“Could’ve been better.” He raised his brows in question, so she elaborated. “On our raid of The SERPENT, slavers, two members of my crew died. Maylia Shei and Rob Neicklee. Good people, too. They wanted revenge on the people that had sold them as well. We- I miscalculated the opposing ship’s crew. They were smarter, faster, more dangerous than I predicted. I should’ve gone in first instead of sending the newest of the crew.”
He shifted his cup into one hand and took hers with the other, intertwining their fingers. “I’m sorry, Inej. But you can’t change the past, best not to dwell on it.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“When have I ever held a grudge?”
She gave him a look. Do I need to list all the times? He laughed and she did too.
“What about you, Dirtyhands? I’ve heard today that you’ve been particularly ruthless these days.”
“I’ve been restless.”
“Do tell,” She drank more of her tea now that it’d cooled. The warmth felt good, refreshing on her throat. She spent weeks shouting over the crashing of the waves. Her voice was hoarse and worn.
“You know how impatient I am. Plus, you’re most of my impulse control, Wraith. I’ve been waiting for you to return and continue to wring little bits of morality from me.” That was as good as telling her he missed her.
She smirked. “Maybe I should stay a little longer this time. Maybe a week instead of a day.”
His eyes flashed with hope. “Think the sea will miss you?”
“She probably has better things to do.”
“I hope she does.” He brought her hand to his lips. Her stomach swirled with butterflies. “So you’ll stay? If not, this is crueler than anything I’ve ever done,” He whispered against her skin.
“I’ll stay. Not forever but for now. I miss your city.”
“Our city,” He corrected. “You may come and go as you please, but you are its Queen.”
“Do I get a coronation?”
He dipped his fingers in his tea a flicked a bit of the liquid at at her. She squinted and then glared at him.
“There,” He stated triumphantly.
“I’m going to kill you,” She declared.
“What a way to go, by the Wraith’s blade. Make it slow, my darling.” That shouldn’t have made her blush. It definitely made her blush.
She slid Sankta Maradi out of the sheath on her thigh and pressed it against Kaz’s throat. He smiled at her and continued drinking his tea.
“Thought you didn’t trust anyone, Brekker,” Inej teased.
“You’ve somehow slipped past my defenses.”
“All that time you put into training me to be your most skilled spy has backfired, then, hasn’t it?”
“Mhm, I don’t mind.” She turned the blade so it was flat against his throat before dragging it down to his chest where she lifted it away.
She set it on the bed in front of them. All her knives followed, one by one. She whispered the names of each to herself like she was taking attendance. When the last one was placed, there was a pile of gold, blue, black, and white handles and silver blades. It was impractical to rid herself of her weapons, but the thought was what mattered. He’d shed his gloves, his armor, she could lay hers before him. She trusted him and he eagerly returned it.
“Are you hungry?” Inej asked.
“Yes,” He said right as his stomach growled. She laughed lightly. Apparently, she’d assumed correctly that he probably hadn’t eaten enough today.
“Where from?”
“You choose. My treat.”
“That part was a given.” She grabbed two of her knives back from the pile and holstered them on her bodice. She picked up a third and stuck it in her boot. She grabbed Kaz’s suit jacket and slid her arms into it. The fabric smelled like him. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Not ten minutes later, she was, in fact, back. Take out from the Suli restaurant a few streets down filled the air. Kaz groaned when he smelled it and Inej chuckled and set it on his desk.
“I’d call you a Saint but you’d yell at me again,” He murmured as he joined her.
“Well, I’m not a Saint and you’re not religious. I was right to shout a bit. But I thank you for the compliment, I suppose.”
“But Sankta Inej just rolls right off the tongue.” She shot him a glare which he only smirked at.
Inej pulled over a chair next to the one that was already at the table and sat down on it. Kaz took the other one. She’d grabbed plates from the kitchen downstairs and she handed one to Kaz and set the other in front of herself. They served themselves.
They ate in relative silence, having brief conversations every now and then, but focusing mainly on their food. It was obvious they’d both decided that today, food was inferior to other tasks.
When they both finished, Kaz set her plate on his and stood. He washed off the plates in the bathroom so they wouldn’t attract flies or nats or mice.
Inej fiddled with his record player until it admitted classical music. The calming sound filled the room and Inej let it consume her for a few moments. She hadn’t heard music in seven months (She didn’t count the dirty songs her crew sang when drunk).
Kaz came out of the bathroom and smiled at her as he set their stuff down.
“Wanna dance?” She asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I don’t think I’m being ridiculous.”
“I have a cane, Inej. I couldn’t dance even if I wanted to.”
“When has Kaz Brekker ever cowered away from a challenge. For example, dancing.” She gave him a pointed look and he glared at her.
“...Fine.” She grinned and held out her hand. He took it.
“Have you ever danced?”
“No. Have you?”
She thought for a moment. “Not ballroom style, that’s for sure. But I’ve danced, yes.” He carefully put his hand on her waist and held up their joint hands. The pressure on her side made brief perfume-filled memories flash in her mind, but she pushed them away. She would not disappear. Not here, not now. “What do I do with my other hand?” She asked, holding up the limb in question.
“Uhm, I don’t exactly know.” She’d seen people dance like this before, she knew, so she searched her memory. She’d seen Jesper and Wylan dance at their wedding about a year ago and she remembered the way Wylan had put his hand on Jesper’s shoulder, so she did that.
Kaz nodded a little, “I think that’s right.” They swayed along to the beat of the music. Inej let her eyes slide closed as she took in the beautiful moment.
The candles were burning brightly, casting a warm glow over the room. The steady thrum of the music settled into her bones as she swayed with the boy she’d always wanted. He kept his hands light to the touch, as to not resurface any unpleasant memories for either of them. His head was dipped low, his face just inches away from the spot where he’d kissed her that night in the bathroom. That memory felt distant yet burned brighter than the glow of the oil lamps when he did, in fact, lower his lips the rest of the way, kissing the same spot he had before. Her eyes blinked open at the contact. He looked back up at her, leveling their eyes.
“Sorry, was that-”
“That was perfect, Kaz,” She remedied. Didn’t want him to think that that was anything less than welcome. He smiled.
“Alright. But you’ll tell me if you think you will disappear, right?”
“Always, and you?” He nodded.
They continued on. Kaz twirled Inej every so often, making her giggle. Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She’d missed him desperately while she’d been gone.
A slower, darker-sounding song came on and Inej moved forward to rest her forehead on his. Kaz obviously met her halfway, as she only reached his shoulder in height, something Kaz constantly reminded her of. She’d always retort with ‘That just means I can drive a knife into your heart easier.’ Their chests were pressed together as well and Inej opened her eyes to study Kaz’s face. There was no disgust or fear, just fondness. She looked down, wishing the moment could last forever.
“Inej,” He murmured. He brought his hand to her face and used a single finger to tilt her head towards him. “You are breathtaking.” She felt her cheeks get hot from the blatant compliment. Inej adored Kaz like this; Safe and warm and longing for her, with that glint in his eye when he looked at her like she was something he’d been searching for and he’d finally found. His treasure, his Wraith.
“As are you,” She whispered back.
He sighed. “Inej, I- I want to kiss you.” She knew she looked shocked. “I’m not going to but-”
“Why not?” She interrupted.
“Wh- I didn’t think you’d want that.” She laughed quietly.
“Kaz. Of course I do.”
“I’ve also never...”
“I’ve never, either.” He knew what she meant. He always did. She’d never kissed a boy she wanted to, never had the choice. All her firsts had been taken, but she could reclaim them. Here, now. She wouldn’t let those men keep what they’d stolen from her.
She moved her face closer to his. He leaned down further. They were centimeters apart, barely anything. One move and their lips would be connected.
“Inej, are you su-” She cut him off by brushing her lips against his.
“Yes,” She breathed. “I’m sure.” He used the hand still on her chin to pull her forward gently and press his mouth against her’s once again. It ripped all the breath right from her lungs, made her world brighter, made her mind focus only on him. His hand was shaking where it rested on her face, but so was hers. His breathing was just as ragged as her own. He had the same look of wonder on his face.
It was like a flip had switched in both of their minds.
Oh.
This is what it’s supposed to be like.
It isn’t meant to be fake silks and fake noises, it isn’t supposed to be water lapping at your ankles and the desperate need to fight or flee. It’s supposed to be like this.
A boy who missed a girl. A girl who missed a boy. They finally figured it out.