𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐨𝐂

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘.

xx: you

Natasha's head pulsated with the beginnings of a migraine, only curable with a heavy breakfast of eggs, toast, grilled tomatoes and sausages. Never before had she woken up with such a greedy appetite, ignoring sentiments of parem and delicacy, she skipped off into the kitchen.

She tied a spattered apron around her waist, knotting up her hair with a jade pin she had found in her allocated bedroom. The room was well-decorated to Natasha's aesthetic, featuring lights studded into the plaster ceiling and crystals snuggled amid the books on her crowded shelf.

The entropy of Ketterdam bought a smile upon her lips. The frantic scurrying of footsteps pounding on the ceiling, the slamming of doors and brutal bar brawls - ending in shattered teeth, dislocated jaws and fractured ribs.

However, much to Natasha's luck, the kitchen was empty - the fridge restocked for the week. She hastily cooked herself a meal and set her plate down, heavy, on the kitchen table. Sunshine peeped through the lace curtains, swaying back and forth to the cadence of pacifying wind leaking in through the cracks in the skirting.

She ate her breakfast in silence, policing the footfalls traversing up and down the passageways and the hushed whispers seeping in through the splinted floorboards.

"You're awake," Kaz Brekker pushed his way into the crowded kitchen - uninvited.

He sneered down at the disorder of scattered platters, bowls, frying pans and the cracked eggshells dirtying the floor. "You seemed to have made yourself at home," Kaz said coolly, retaining his temper in rein. Something foul crunched beneath the heel of combat boots.

"I was hungry," Natasha said apologetically. She grabbed a second plate, setting out an arrangement for Kaz. "You can have some if you like. It seems that I made enough to feed a few,"

Kaz Brekker eyed the ricked pillar of toast and dish of meaty sausages with detached contempt. "More like an army," He mumbled. Nevertheless, he drew up a chair, taking the seat opposite her. They both ate in silence, standing to collect food instead of bothering the other to pass it across the table. Only when Jesper Fahey entered the room, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth - did either of them talk.

"Merry fucking Christmas," Jesper announced, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. He tucked his toothbrush into the breast pocket of his pyjamas. His face fell at the spectacle of strewed toast crumbs on the table."You might as well hand me your plate and let me lick off the crumbs," He whined. "You've left nothing,"

"There's more on the counter, Jesper," Kaz Brekker said - almost bothered by his presence. Perhaps he wasn't the prettiest mood to handle at six am in the morning. "Save some for the others. Alessia's even more devastating than you,"

They all cringed at the banging clatter of a door flinging open. "I heard that," Alessia screeched, substantially stirring the entirety of Ketterdam. "Keep talking, and you'll see sincere devastation," Only when the door crashed shut again did Kaz respond.

He flexed his gloved fingers, almost grinning at Alessia Ivanov's eruption. "Proves my point precisely," Jesper agreed, motioning for the milk jug. The others joined them shortly, securing their portions and dispersing to accomplish the day's burdens.

The Wraith didn't join the crows for breakfast, releasing herself with an inked logo on a folded slip of parchment. Alessia passed the note around the table. "Where did she go?" Natasha asked.

Everyone's head swivelled in the direction of Kaz Brekker. Natasha had never seen him look so dangerous. "Some things are best left unsaid," Nina piped in, concentrating attention upon herself. However, Natasha never drew her eyes away from Kaz.

"What are you?" Natasha asked, a prickly edge to her tone.

Alessia Ivanov snorted across the table, shielding her face behind a box of cereal. Nina and Jesper shared clouded, sober looks, Wylen napped with his forehead pressed against the tablecloth - square of the conversation unfolding out in front of him.

"They call you the Bastard of the barrel, rising criminal prodigy, Dirtyhands," Natasha hissed. She gathered the nicknames from eavesdropping - there wasn't anything better to do in the establishment.

"Someone did their homework," Kaz Brekker riposted. Natasha folded her arms over her chest, turning her body away from them all. She was appreciative of her safe voyage to Kerch. However, she refused to admix with the poorest of the lot, comprehending Ravka's military would soon be in pursuance.

What she required was preservation, and loyalty. Alessia had comforted her by saying that there was no decency - found in Ketterdam. Only folks, motivated by malice, audacity and pure luck. The notion of it all was stupid, yet Natasha Van Doren lingered.

Kaz Brekker smiled, tilting back in his seat. He had narrated the conversation over in his mind nearly one thousand times; not once did he anticipate an audience. Nina Zenic cleared her throat, pinching the back of Wylen's neck and digging her elbow into Jesper's side.

Alessia Ivanov pardoned herself with a mumble - familiar to "merry Christmas" Jesper, Wylen and Nina following behind her. Kaz waited to hear the lock of the door before forcing himself to look at her. For once, Natasha didn't look frightened, exposed or ill.

Natasha Van Doren was a battered consort, gradually healing - emotionally and physically. When Kaz Brekker looked at Natasha, he saw nothing that wasn't built anew on the ashes of her history.

A true Queen.

"I'm a lockpick," Kaz said with a shrug - there was no fiction to his words. "A skilled one at that," He eyed her up and down as if he was scrutinising her. Natasha didn't dare shift uncomfortably underneath his gaze no matter how hard her body betrayed to do so.

Natasha tilted her head upwards, almost reaching his height. "How do manipulating locks have anything to do with murder," She bit down hard on her words - predicting a logical explanation.

Kaz Brekker sighed, rubbing his elbow. The conversation was dull, a barrage of dominance - more so brittle egos. "Collateral Damage," Kaz answered - an appalling look drained over Natasha's features. "It's a rare thing,"

"You're horrible," Natasha whispered. She pushed away from her plate, overwhelmed that she had sustained herself on the salary of a murderer. "To speak so ill of the dead. What if someone described your brother as collateral damage?"

He scoffed. Natasha suspected a ludicrous anecdote in negotiation for an outburst on her behalf. "It's not a matter of what I want, Van Doren," Kaz Brekker said coldly. As hard as he tried to keep his poise, her rooting for Jordie's death disturbed something within him. The tangibility of being caught off guard by his vulnerability made his thorax sting.

"Neither was it my brother's preference to die at the mellow age of thirteen. You might believe you grew up on checkered picnic hampers and cubes of good cheese, but deep down," He jabbed his finger hard on the table.

"You are as horrible as I am."

A/N

- enemies to lovers ;) if you enjoyed please vote and comment. remember to hydrate and eat well, know that you are beautiful, valued and such a blessing on this earth!

- rosa <33