𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓'𝖘 𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖈𝖞 || kaz brekker

𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢. oaths and teas

(not proofread yet)

❝not yet corpses. still, we rot❞

¤

"you're too hard on her." the words are spoken quietly into the privacy of Kaz's office but the sentiment in them remains the same. the boy doesn't look up but the twitch in his jaw is answer enough. he keeps his gaze set on the envelope he'd been cutting open with gloved hands and as Aeya pushes closer, he stiffens, blue eyes snapping up to meet her violet ones.

the silence hangs for a bit longer and she frowns down at him, perched on top of his desk, all silver haired and serious, "Kaz," she continues on, her head tilting to the right as he blinks up at her with a stillness only he could yeald. "this is Inej we're talking about. the Inej who risked her life countless times for us. for you."

his lips purse as he, to her surprise, leans closer. "she's not an option."

the statement hangs for a moment longer before her gaze flickers down, a softer expression settling onto her features. her lips part but she remains quiet for a moment longer. "this isn't about her not being there, that night." the raven watches the way he lets his back meet the chair and focuses his attention back on the letter he'd been unraveling. 

her next word are more of a statement than a question. "you're giving her an out."

¤

standing by the crow club's bar area, the saint silently listens on to Wylan's story about one of his nights performing on the streets of Ketterdam, something about a flirty politician that'd tried getting him into bed. her lips pull with amusement at the way he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, face pulled into a grimace and cheeks tinted at the memory alone. 

she knew the life he'd led was a complicated one, from his father to his struggles with words, and though he had one of the most brilliant minds she'd ever encoutered, he was still so shy about his story, almost ashamed by the one fact that held him back even with how far he'd gotten with his work.

it wasn't necessarily honest work, not in the way all his abilities in relation to chemicals were used to arm the crows for most of their plans fighting against Pekka, and lately the Darkling and his grishas, but it was much better than staying on the streets without any plan of action or source of income. Kaz payed well.

as he continues on, not even noticing the way Tolya seemed to be just as invested into his story, her attention drifts away to the ricochet of a cane filling the otherwise empty club. her rings clink softly against the glass she'd been nursing in silence and she raises a brow at the purse on Kaz's lips, her stomach moving with a quiet chuckle.

"the Neshyenyer at Ahmrat Jen is definitely a fake." he mumbles in irritation, his form hunched as he silently hands each of the makeshift team a yellow slip. her amusement melts into curiousity when he keeps hers rather than let her check over the passport he'd forged.

Zoya rolls her eyes in return. "which we told you." she scoffs and tilts her face to the bar, her annoyance mirroring the thief's, only for different reasons. Tolya has been loudly chewing on almonds right next to her ear for the past few minutes. "perhaps now you tell us something we didn't know?"

noting the bartender slipping behind the group, the Valyrian raises her glass and silently nods her head towards the man in black standing on her right, a plea rather than a demand for a refill she knew to be needed knowing that his snark and the Suli's temper would only end in conflict.

"according to my contacts, it's been stolen by a thief known as The Disciple." Kaz informs, the only indication to him noticing his partner's signal being the tap she receives by the end of his cane. she already knew the content of the letter he'd received and was only present to keep the conversation from escalating to an uneeded argument.