Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER NINE; sleeping misery
♠
SLEEP EVADED HIM ever since he'd been reborn on the Reaper's Barge; sleep had always been something just out of reach for him. Kaz remembered fighting with himself for his body to rest, so he could wake up the next morning and keep fighting the world for survival, day by day, brick by brick.
Ever since he first spoke to Bela, when she was still only Ace, only words on paper, he used to lay in bed at night, in the small cot he had with the uncomfortable hay mattress, and picture how she would be, whether she was beautiful or not, whether she was as smart she sounded or as thieving as she seemed. He wondered about her, and eventually, his mind allowed him to rest, even if sleep was light and just the bare minimum rest.
It was stupid and pathetic, at least that's what he used to think, but it did help. It allowed him to get far enough from the nightmare and get some rest.
Now, he didn't have to picture her anymore, from the moment they met and he'd seen her for the first time, Kaz's imagination had been blown to pieces; the girl he used to picture, the perfect girl in his mind, didn't even come close to Bela Miseria.
And though sleep still evaded him, at least now he didn't have to imagine her, he didn't even have to picture her, because she was there, and she'd promised him she'd stay.
Everyone on the crew was tired, he was too. In some way, he was glad he allowed himself to get healed by the Ravkan Grisha, even if it had been torture to seat there as she prodded at his skin wanting to fix everything about him. He'd had stopped her as soon as he could breathe without pain in his chest. After all, he had to look like he'd been in a fight. He did get his eye partly healed, mostly for Bela's sake.
But still, he was exhausted, and he had no choice but to rest after the fight. His body had stopped listening to him. He'd passed an invisible limit and simply shut down. He didn't remember falling asleep, only her voice low and soothing. He usually didn't dream; he did that night. He dreamt of her, of her smile and her glare; of the waves of her hair and the faint freckles scattered on her nose like stars.
He dreamed of her body, unmoving and pale, stained with blood. He was brought back to the night he found her, to carrying her shackled and frail frame through the streets of Ketterdam as if swimming to shore to make sure she didn't drown.
He was brought back to the feel of her gelid skin under his gloved feelings, and that dragged him even further down his memories to the day at Reaper's Barge.
And suddenly he was drowning in bloated corpses, he was swimming away using his brother's still body in his aid, his stomach twisting, his desperate attempts at keeping his head over the surface.
