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[roughworkdone]

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[roughworkdone]

Kaz does as he's told and sits on the edge of the bed, near to Inej but not quite touching. The distance is for her as much him: he leaves it to her to cross, when she is ready. He never thought ceding control would gain him anything, thought it would grate against him as badly as any cage. But it doesn't. He puts power in Inej's hands and he trusts her not to abuse it.

It is, all at once, terrifying and freeing.

"Good to see you again, Wraith," he murmurs fondly, just so that he's said it out loud.

[greetfear]

He sits as he's told and really, she'll never be over the strange pride she feels. It's more than the rush of power he's placing in her hands—though that certainly cannot be overstated—it's also the amount of time and trust they've both put into this. Here he is, Dirtyhands, bastard of the Barrel, following what she asks (demands) of him.

And here she is, the Wraith, the ghost of Ketterdam's streets, putting herself in a man's bed willingly. Here she is, with soft words that have all the might of a knife in the safe world they've made for themselves.

"And you as well, Kaz Brekker." There's a weight to her words, not just the warm gladness she has at being here again. It's also the awe of privilege, how he's letting her see what's beneath the armor, just like he said he would. A word kept. As if spurred on by this, she moves closer, purposely leans forward to let his shirt gape open, and carefully places a hand to his cheek. If he doesn't stiffen, she'll continue to touch a path downwards, palm laying flat on his chest.

[roughworkdone]

Kaz can't help the way his gaze drops to the flash of warm skin beneath the open shirt. The hand on his cheek, soft and small and familiar, makes him swallow but he manages not to go tense. This has always been a slow exercise, frustrating in its glacial pace. He wants to give her more, everything, but it takes building up. Maybe faster this time than the last, but not instant.

As her hand slides down to press to his chest, goosebumps rise and fall and Kaz shivers beneath her touch. But he doesn't try to pull away, nor does he go tense and distant. He wants nothing more than to lay his hand over hers and his fingers twitch, but he can't quite bring himself to do it yet. But he wants to.

[greetfear]

He doesn't lock up, which is testament to the progress they've made. She can tell he's still on edge, waiting for his past to drag him under. But he doesn't shy away, keeps letting her touch where she wants.

And well, she doesn't miss the way his gaze drops for those few precious seconds. A small smile curls her mouth and she can't help but tease.

"See something you like?" She pulls her hand away from his chest, leaning back and touching herself instead. Her hands cup her scant breasts, shirt pushed off to the sides so it gaped open properly. So much of her wants him to touch, but she knows this is a slow process. Until then, she'll let him adjust on his own.