Chapter Text
Another cough broke the silence of the room, and Inej could ignore it no longer. She rolled over, the sheets tangling beneath her.
"Kaz," she whispered softly.
She saw his shape shift in the darkness as he turned to face her.
"I didn't realize you were awake," he murmured, his voice hoarse and scratchy. She saw a glint of moonlight reflected in his dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry for keeping you up."
"You have nothing to be sorry for except refusing my help," Inej grumbled, sitting up. She ran her hand through her hair. "Let me make you some tea."
"Don't bother," he muttered, pulling the blanket up to his chin. "You cannot possibly fix this."
"I can certainly try," she huffed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and letting her feet come in contact with the cool floors. She could feel his eyes tracking her as she walked to the door with silent steps, her reputation not fading along with the excitement of a jobless period.
As her hand landed on the doorknob, she turned to look back at him. "Stay here, okay?"
"Yeah," he said, the sarcasm evident in his voice. As if he was going anywhere.
With a nod, she opened the door and walked to the kitchen.
After everything, the last thing they had prepared for was a simple cold, yet it had gotten the best of Kaz Brekker, Ketterdam's mastermind criminal. After the cold had shifted from the stuffy nose stage to the coughing stage, he had been weak and without motivation to move from his bed. Inej was fairly certain that he also had a fever, but he refused to let her take care of him.
"I will have you without armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all."
Inej remembered speaking the words to him long ago, in a time that seemed so different from the one they now lived in. Everything was peaceful now. Everything was good.
She frowned as she rummaged through the cupboards, remembering everything that had occurred since then. It seemed he was not quite ready to drop his guard yet.
Not even for her.
She brought out some herbs and a porcelain cup, setting it on the counter. She hummed a Suli tune to herself as she worked, and when she was done, she took the cup back to their room, careful to only handle the top so she would not get burned.
She closed the door behind her as she reentered the room and set the cup on the bedside table beside him. When he made no move to grab it, she rolled her eyes.
"Spare me your stubbornness, Kaz," she sighed. "You're sick."
"I have a cold, Wraith," he retorted. "That's all. I don't need you hovering over me."
Without thinking, she pressed her palm to his forehead. He immediately cringed, and hurt flashed through her even as she registered the searing heat of his skin.
"Just as I thought," she said briskly, pulling her hand away. "You have a fever."
"So it seems."
"Damn it, Kaz, just let me do this for you," she said, frustrated. "You've done so much more for me."
Actually, they had saved each other's lives on a fairly balanced scale, but she refused to allow him to push her away. Not over something so silly.
She took his silence as a reluctant agreement.
Steeling herself for whatever he might use to stop her, she lifted the cup to his mouth.
"Drink."
He stared at her, almost condescendingly.
"Drink, before I pry your jaw open."
Kaz groaned in protest but parted his lips.
Inej slowly tipped the cup and allowed the tea to fall at a steady pace. When it was all drunk, she set the cup back down on the table and stared at him expectantly.
Kaz let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Fine," he muttered. She noticed his voice was a bit better. "It helped."
He gave her a weak smile. "You've always been there for me, Inej Ghafa. It's about time I returned the favor."
She stilled, staring at him in silent contemplation. "Are you sure you're not protecting your investments?"
He flinched. "I really did say that, didn't I?"
Inej laughed softly, though it was more of a sad affirmation than anything else. "Yes. Once or twice, or maybe every time you needed an excuse for saving my life."
Kaz grimaced. "Apologies, I suppose. I'm not used to people staying long enough for their opinion to matter."
Inej sat down, perched on the edge of the bed by his legs. "Are you saying my opinion matters?"
He blinked. "Am I?"
"You are so stubborn, Kaz Brekker," she sighed, shaking her head. "And stupid, and foolish, and unable to accept help."
His lips pursed, but he did not deny any of it, for to do so would be to lie.
"But you're perfect."
He arched one eyebrow, though there was a spark of hope in his gaze. "Are you sure about that?"
"I'm positive," she murmured. She circled back around to her side and crawled under the blanket again. In a moment of boldness, she reached out and touched his arm.
His muscles tensed, and she could see the conflict within him. To stay and risk much, or pull away and risk everything.
"You said I've always been there for you," she whispered, letting her fingertips linger over his skin. She saw perspiration in a across his brow.
"Yes," he breathed.
"Well, you'd better buckle in for the ride, because that's never going to change."
He looked at her, his gloveless fingers twitching.
What do you want, Kaz? What do you want?
"Maybe I like it that way," he replied.
"I should hope so."
Then carefully, tentatively, she leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder.
His breath caught, and he looked as though he wanted her to go further. But she pulled back and gave him a small smile.
"We have plenty of time, Kaz."
"We have all the time in the world."