"I want_" he stopped. "Never mind what I want...." His voice was quieter now.
"What do you want?"
"You. Always you!"
📍MATURE CONTENT📍
Part one: She's no angel, he's no saint.
Part two: Half my soul.
Part three: Dark paradise.
Part four: Tattere...
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Kaz's first thought when he glimpsed Jan Van Eck moving toward Goedmedbridge was, this man should never play cards. His second was the merch's nose was broken. A medik had treated the worst of the damage, but without a Grisha Healer, there was only so much you could do to hide a break like that. He knew Aeolian was behind it. She was a dangerous girl, no matter how fragile she looked.
When Aeolian first settled down in Ketterdam, it was like any other evening, she and Kaz were strolling through the Stave. And her eyes caught a man pushing a cart, selling cotton candy, she'd nagged Kaz to buy her one. He'd simply rolled his eyes and asked for the treat, the seller knew who he was and refused to take the money but Aeolian was persistent—honest man, honest living, honest money.
They stood together and gazed at the wide expanse of Goedmedbridge, almost everyone in the Stave knew how the bridge got its name: a woman after she found out her husband had fallen in love with a girl from West Stave and planned to leave her, came to the bridge and, rather than live without him, hurled herself into the canal.
"I can't belief anyone would die for a man with so little honour." Aeolian murmured as she tore a piece of the pink candy.
Kaz didn't respond, instead he leaned on his cane and wondered what goes on in that brain of hers.
"Had you never be tempted? All the fruits and flesh of West Stave before you?" She asked him suddenly.
Instead of answering her, he asked. "Would you throw yourself off a bridge for a man who was?"
"I wouldn't throw myself off a bridge for the king of Ravka." She wrinkled her cute nose. "And I doubt it's true. It's just what happens when you let men name the bridges."
Kaz had laughed. He didn't intent to but being around her, brought a side of him, that had drowned long ago.
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Now Van Eck was trying to keep his expression neutral, but his vanity had been wounded. A merch prided himself on his business sense, but his hand had been forced by a lowly Barrel thug.
