"Okay, so sometimes a little harm is necessary. But only for the bad guys, yeah?"
Name: Kalina Syzmanska
Age: 28
Height: 5'4"
Nationality: Polish
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: pansexual
Face Claim: Florence Pugh
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@kalinasyzmanska
"Okay, so sometimes a little harm is necessary. But only for the bad guys, yeah?"
Name: Kalina Syzmanska
Age: 28
Height: 5'4"
Nationality: Polish
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: pansexual
Face Claim: Florence Pugh
Rules below the cut!
Prepare for trouble, and make it double!
Two men sit at a bar, both of them laughing. About what is a little unclear, but the wide smiles on both of their faces are contagious.
"Aww man, I've missed you, dude." Says one of the men, giving the other a hardy pay on the back. He looks older, with some grey patches showing up in his reddish brown beard.
"Missed you too." Says the younger looking of the two. His bleach blonde hair differs from the other, but he still has that same reddish brown beard as him. "So, how's the comedy thing going?"
"Aha, uh... about that..."
"Uh oh."
Moan~
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz wants Kalina. He would never admit it to anyone, not even her yet, but he thinks about it an embarrassing amount. Not always with his hand tucked into his pants and arm thrown over his eyes so that he can imagine her better, but today's been rough and thinking about Kalina and imagining that she's there, riding him like he's going to disappear, generally helps.
"Ah– fuck, Kalina..." he groans, back arching ever so slightly as he speeds up his hand.
He'll muster up the courage to discuss this with her soon, because this might kill him from the sheer humiliation of being this desperate, even if nobody else knows what he does at home.
I may have the right to remain silent, but I do not possess the ability.
AWOOOGA 🤭🤭
Vincent’s eyes close and the bridge of his nose is pinched as an incredulous grin he was trying to fight spreads onto his face. His head shakes slightly and an audible chuckle escapes him, hand on his hip; the reactions he pulled from people were definitely… unique.
“Y’know, well, no harm done in a little fun.” He manages to state once he’s controlled the threat of laughter. Even so, an easy smile stays on his face as he sits himself down at his desk. “But if you’re gonna come looking for me during work hours… let a guy know beforehand, yeah?”
The helicopter ride back to base is silent, except for the rotors cutting through the air. Kalina is... well, honestly, she doesn't even know how she's doing. If she had to describe it in one word, it would be numb. She feels numb.
Thinking back on what happened, it almost felt like it was someone else who tore through that mansion like a vengeful spirit, and she was just watching from the sidelines. Still... she saved those girls, and the info they gathered from the scene and the target could possibly lead to saving more. And the world now has fewer monsters in it.
That's all that matters.
An attempt is made to clean herself up. The emerald dress is ruined, covered in enough blood that even club soda won't help it. She has various scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs. The most obvious injury is her left arm, placed in a sling until she can get examined in the infirmary.
She hears the call go through, the pilot informing HQ that they were set to land in three minutes. Kalina can feel Jackson's eyes on her, but all she can think about is one person... Mysz.
@the-big-bad-mysz
Mysz has been nothing short of a total wreck for most of the day. Even now, when he knows that Kalina is safely on her way back to HQ in a helicopter, a range of feelings war inside of him, the main ones being stress, worry and relief.
But he's also proud of her, in a way — for making it out alive, for also doing anything she can to protect the innocent. Still, he'd been so worried, to a point where he is perhaps slightly, infinitesimally, upset with Kalina for putting herself in danger like that.
As the helicopter lands, though, any shred of anger dissipates and he promises he really is trying not to cry but the wave of relief that washes over him when he sees that she's still in one piece, that she really did survive. It hurts him in a way that he can't describe to see her injured, but she's alive.
He nearly falls to his knees, the stress having made everything hurt so much more.
Jackson is the first one to disembark the helo, and even though Kalina protests and insists that she can step down herself, he's hearing none of it. The stern set to his jaw reminds her of Jimmy when she's being 'a rock head', and she knows better than to keep arguing at that point.
Grabbing Jackson's hand, she steps down and does her best not to stumble. His coat is hanging over her shoulders, partially covering the sling and the various cuts and bruises. The adrenaline has long since lifted, and her body aches all over.
But it's nothing compared to the knife in her chest when she sees Mysz. Her bottom lip trembles, and she has to bite it to make it stop, lifting her chin as she makes her way closer to him. The guilt is acid in her gut as she looks up at him, at a complete loss for words. First time for everything, right?
The moment Kalina is close enough, Mysz wraps his arms around her in a hug, face hidden in her hair, crutches hitting the ground beside them but he doesn't care — she's okay. He's cautious of her injuries, of course, but the hug is still firm.
"Nigdy więcej tego nie rób... proszę..." he pleads quietly, clearly a little teary-eyed. She's okay. "Mogłeś umrzeć." She's Okay.
It's the only thing that properly goes through Mysz's mind for a few moments as he practically clings to her. She's okay, she's okay, she's okay. He'll have to let go soon — he won't be able to stand for much longer and he doubts Kalina has the strength to hold him up right now — but he can't bring himself to just yet.
Kalina knew that Mysz would have been worried about her, but as the hushed Polish frantically spilled out of him, she's hit with the crushing wave of just how much her actions have affected him.
Please don't do that again. You could have died.
While she can't bring herself to regret her actions, she realizes she could have gone about it differently. In the moment... well, she wasn't thinking clearly, was she?
"Bardzo mi przykro, Mysz..." She hugs him firmly with her good arm, using every last bit of strength she has to keep them upright, burying her face against his chest.
Jackson lingers nearby, probably to make sure they don't fall over. Reaching down, he picks up Mysz's crutches, standing by for when he's good to take them. "C'mon, you two," he speaks up, his voice softer than usual. "Need ta get that arm looked at proper..."
Taking a deep breath, Mysz tries to internally reason with himself — he has to let go so that Kalina can go to medical; he can go with her, probably, but he can't cling to her like this forever, no matter how much he wants to.
"Cieszę się, że żyjesz, Kalina." With a parting kiss to the top of her head, Mysz slowly lets go of her, taking his crutches from Jackson so that he doesn't immediately fall over.
Kalina knows Jackson is right, but she doesn't move away just yet, squeezing her eyes tightly when he kisses the top of her head. It's only when Mysz moves first so he can grab his crutches that she takes a step back, sniffling and holding her chin up. The last thing she needed to do was cry right now. She has nothing to cry about, she's fine.
Honestly, she's more worried about Mysz. And even when they begin to walk down the corridor leading to the medical bay, her good hand rests on his lower back. Where she knows it pains him. Gods, that moment in his office seems like a lifetime ago.
Once Jackson has ensured they make it to their destination, he nods once, ever the stoic guardian. But Kalina can see it in his eyes... she worried him, too. "Right then," he says gruffly, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Get settled, and I'll grab the doc."
"Thank you, Baran," she murmurs, giving him a meaningful look. Once it's just her and Mysz, the silence feels oppressive as they sit down. She's not even sure what to say, what she could possibly say to make this alright. The adrenaline has long since worn off, and her arm fucking hurts. She needs a cigarette. "I... I shouldn't have cut comms like that... I'm sorry."
Mysz inhales sharply through his nose, pausing so that he doesn't crumble to the ground when Kalina rests her hand on his back — it's a wave of relief that comes with a moment comfort, both things that hit him hard enough that he would've toppled over.
Once they make it to Medical, Mysz sits down in a chair beside one of the beds, glancing at Jackson as he speaks and giving him a grateful look and a nod. "Thank you."
Then it's just the two of them and suddenly all his attention is back on Kalina as he shakes his head at the apology. "It's... it's fine. How are you feeling, how's your arm?"
It's not fine, Kalina wants to say. As much as Mysz is focused on her, she's watching him closely. A part of her needs him to be mad at her, to hold her accountable for her reckless actions. Doesn't matter what the outcome was.
When he asks about her arm, she looks down at it, cradled against her torso like an injured wing. She doesn't want to lie or worry him further... the first thing wins. "Hurts," she mumbles, her voice rough with exhaustion. "I think I... did the opposite of dislocated it. Jammed it? I don't know..."
"Hey, kochanie?~"
Kalina approaches where Mysz is sitting down and wraps her arms around his shoulders. Hugging him from the side, the side of his face definitely ends up pillowed against her bosom, but the hug is innocent enough.
She kisses his temple and hums, letting out a soft 'muah' sound when she pulls back slightly. "Do you have any idea how kissable you are?"
@kalinasyzmanska
"Hm?–" Mysz is in the process of spinning around to face Kalina when she wraps her arms around him.
There is a brief moment where he freezes up completely in the hug, blood rising to his face as his eyes widen slightly. He hardly breathes in that moment, only blinking when Kalina kisses his temple. A kiss. She just kissed him.
It's a miracle that he doesn't melt into a pile of goo or combust entirely when she calls him kissable. Since when was he kissable??
This, frankly, is the most positively expressive anyone has ever seen him.
It's at least 40 seconds before he responds, wrapping his arms around her waist firmly and tries not to look to his right, closing his eyes in an attempt to steady himself and his mind. "Kissable?"
The helicopter ride back to base is silent, except for the rotors cutting through the air. Kalina is... well, honestly, she doesn't even know how she's doing. If she had to describe it in one word, it would be numb. She feels numb.
Thinking back on what happened, it almost felt like it was someone else who tore through that mansion like a vengeful spirit, and she was just watching from the sidelines. Still... she saved those girls, and the info they gathered from the scene and the target could possibly lead to saving more. And the world now has fewer monsters in it.
That's all that matters.
An attempt is made to clean herself up. The emerald dress is ruined, covered in enough blood that even club soda won't help it. She has various scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs. The most obvious injury is her left arm, placed in a sling until she can get examined in the infirmary.
She hears the call go through, the pilot informing HQ that they were set to land in three minutes. Kalina can feel Jackson's eyes on her, but all she can think about is one person... Mysz.
@the-big-bad-mysz
Mysz has been nothing short of a total wreck for most of the day. Even now, when he knows that Kalina is safely on her way back to HQ in a helicopter, a range of feelings war inside of him, the main ones being stress, worry and relief.
But he's also proud of her, in a way — for making it out alive, for also doing anything she can to protect the innocent. Still, he'd been so worried, to a point where he is perhaps slightly, infinitesimally, upset with Kalina for putting herself in danger like that.
As the helicopter lands, though, any shred of anger dissipates and he promises he really is trying not to cry but the wave of relief that washes over him when he sees that she's still in one piece, that she really did survive. It hurts him in a way that he can't describe to see her injured, but she's alive.
He nearly falls to his knees, the stress having made everything hurt so much more.
Jackson is the first one to disembark the helo, and even though Kalina protests and insists that she can step down herself, he's hearing none of it. The stern set to his jaw reminds her of Jimmy when she's being 'a rock head', and she knows better than to keep arguing at that point.
Grabbing Jackson's hand, she steps down and does her best not to stumble. His coat is hanging over her shoulders, partially covering the sling and the various cuts and bruises. The adrenaline has long since lifted, and her body aches all over.
But it's nothing compared to the knife in her chest when she sees Mysz. Her bottom lip trembles, and she has to bite it to make it stop, lifting her chin as she makes her way closer to him. The guilt is acid in her gut as she looks up at him, at a complete loss for words. First time for everything, right?
The moment Kalina is close enough, Mysz wraps his arms around her in a hug, face hidden in her hair, crutches hitting the ground beside them but he doesn't care — she's okay. He's cautious of her injuries, of course, but the hug is still firm.
"Nigdy więcej tego nie rób... proszę..." he pleads quietly, clearly a little teary-eyed. She's okay. "Mogłeś umrzeć." She's Okay.
It's the only thing that properly goes through Mysz's mind for a few moments as he practically clings to her. She's okay, she's okay, she's okay. He'll have to let go soon — he won't be able to stand for much longer and he doubts Kalina has the strength to hold him up right now — but he can't bring himself to just yet.
Kalina knew that Mysz would have been worried about her, but as the hushed Polish frantically spilled out of him, she's hit with the crushing wave of just how much her actions have affected him.
Please don't do that again. You could have died.
While she can't bring herself to regret her actions, she realizes she could have gone about it differently. In the moment... well, she wasn't thinking clearly, was she?
"Bardzo mi przykro, Mysz..." She hugs him firmly with her good arm, using every last bit of strength she has to keep them upright, burying her face against his chest.
Jackson lingers nearby, probably to make sure they don't fall over. Reaching down, he picks up Mysz's crutches, standing by for when he's good to take them. "C'mon, you two," he speaks up, his voice softer than usual. "Need ta get that arm looked at proper..."
Taking a deep breath, Mysz tries to internally reason with himself — he has to let go so that Kalina can go to medical; he can go with her, probably, but he can't cling to her like this forever, no matter how much he wants to.
"Cieszę się, że żyjesz, Kalina." With a parting kiss to the top of her head, Mysz slowly lets go of her, taking his crutches from Jackson so that he doesn't immediately fall over.
Kalina knows Jackson is right, but she doesn't move away just yet, squeezing her eyes tightly when he kisses the top of her head. It's only when Mysz moves first so he can grab his crutches that she takes a step back, sniffling and holding her chin up. The last thing she needed to do was cry right now. She has nothing to cry about, she's fine.
Honestly, she's more worried about Mysz. And even when they begin to walk down the corridor leading to the medical bay, her good hand rests on his lower back. Where she knows it pains him. Gods, that moment in his office seems like a lifetime ago.
Once Jackson has ensured they make it to their destination, he nods once, ever the stoic guardian. But Kalina can see it in his eyes... she worried him, too. "Right then," he says gruffly, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Get settled, and I'll grab the doc."
"Thank you, Baran," she murmurs, giving him a meaningful look. Once it's just her and Mysz, the silence feels oppressive as they sit down. She's not even sure what to say, what she could possibly say to make this alright. The adrenaline has long since worn off, and her arm fucking hurts. She needs a cigarette. "I... I shouldn't have cut comms like that... I'm sorry."
The helicopter ride back to base is silent, except for the rotors cutting through the air. Kalina is... well, honestly, she doesn't even know how she's doing. If she had to describe it in one word, it would be numb. She feels numb.
Thinking back on what happened, it almost felt like it was someone else who tore through that mansion like a vengeful spirit, and she was just watching from the sidelines. Still... she saved those girls, and the info they gathered from the scene and the target could possibly lead to saving more. And the world now has fewer monsters in it.
That's all that matters.
An attempt is made to clean herself up. The emerald dress is ruined, covered in enough blood that even club soda won't help it. She has various scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs. The most obvious injury is her left arm, placed in a sling until she can get examined in the infirmary.
She hears the call go through, the pilot informing HQ that they were set to land in three minutes. Kalina can feel Jackson's eyes on her, but all she can think about is one person... Mysz.
@the-big-bad-mysz
Mysz has been nothing short of a total wreck for most of the day. Even now, when he knows that Kalina is safely on her way back to HQ in a helicopter, a range of feelings war inside of him, the main ones being stress, worry and relief.
But he's also proud of her, in a way — for making it out alive, for also doing anything she can to protect the innocent. Still, he'd been so worried, to a point where he is perhaps slightly, infinitesimally, upset with Kalina for putting herself in danger like that.
As the helicopter lands, though, any shred of anger dissipates and he promises he really is trying not to cry but the wave of relief that washes over him when he sees that she's still in one piece, that she really did survive. It hurts him in a way that he can't describe to see her injured, but she's alive.
He nearly falls to his knees, the stress having made everything hurt so much more.
Jackson is the first one to disembark the helo, and even though Kalina protests and insists that she can step down herself, he's hearing none of it. The stern set to his jaw reminds her of Jimmy when she's being 'a rock head', and she knows better than to keep arguing at that point.
Grabbing Jackson's hand, she steps down and does her best not to stumble. His coat is hanging over her shoulders, partially covering the sling and the various cuts and bruises. The adrenaline has long since lifted, and her body aches all over.
But it's nothing compared to the knife in her chest when she sees Mysz. Her bottom lip trembles, and she has to bite it to make it stop, lifting her chin as she makes her way closer to him. The guilt is acid in her gut as she looks up at him, at a complete loss for words. First time for everything, right?
The moment Kalina is close enough, Mysz wraps his arms around her in a hug, face hidden in her hair, crutches hitting the ground beside them but he doesn't care — she's okay. He's cautious of her injuries, of course, but the hug is still firm.
"Nigdy więcej tego nie rób... proszę..." he pleads quietly, clearly a little teary-eyed. She's okay. "Mogłeś umrzeć." She's Okay.
It's the only thing that properly goes through Mysz's mind for a few moments as he practically clings to her. She's okay, she's okay, she's okay. He'll have to let go soon — he won't be able to stand for much longer and he doubts Kalina has the strength to hold him up right now — but he can't bring himself to just yet.
Kalina knew that Mysz would have been worried about her, but as the hushed Polish frantically spilled out of him, she's hit with the crushing wave of just how much her actions have affected him.
Please don't do that again. You could have died.
While she can't bring herself to regret her actions, she realizes she could have gone about it differently. In the moment... well, she wasn't thinking clearly, was she?
"Bardzo mi przykro, Mysz..." She hugs him firmly with her good arm, using every last bit of strength she has to keep them upright, burying her face against his chest.
Jackson lingers nearby, probably to make sure they don't fall over. Reaching down, he picks up Mysz's crutches, standing by for when he's good to take them. "C'mon, you two," he speaks up, his voice softer than usual. "Need ta get that arm looked at proper..."
The helicopter ride back to base is silent, except for the rotors cutting through the air. Kalina is... well, honestly, she doesn't even know how she's doing. If she had to describe it in one word, it would be numb. She feels numb.
Thinking back on what happened, it almost felt like it was someone else who tore through that mansion like a vengeful spirit, and she was just watching from the sidelines. Still... she saved those girls, and the info they gathered from the scene and the target could possibly lead to saving more. And the world now has fewer monsters in it.
That's all that matters.
An attempt is made to clean herself up. The emerald dress is ruined, covered in enough blood that even club soda won't help it. She has various scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs. The most obvious injury is her left arm, placed in a sling until she can get examined in the infirmary.
She hears the call go through, the pilot informing HQ that they were set to land in three minutes. Kalina can feel Jackson's eyes on her, but all she can think about is one person... Mysz.
@the-big-bad-mysz
Mysz has been nothing short of a total wreck for most of the day. Even now, when he knows that Kalina is safely on her way back to HQ in a helicopter, a range of feelings war inside of him, the main ones being stress, worry and relief.
But he's also proud of her, in a way — for making it out alive, for also doing anything she can to protect the innocent. Still, he'd been so worried, to a point where he is perhaps slightly, infinitesimally, upset with Kalina for putting herself in danger like that.
As the helicopter lands, though, any shred of anger dissipates and he promises he really is trying not to cry but the wave of relief that washes over him when he sees that she's still in one piece, that she really did survive. It hurts him in a way that he can't describe to see her injured, but she's alive.
He nearly falls to his knees, the stress having made everything hurt so much more.
Jackson is the first one to disembark the helo, and even though Kalina protests and insists that she can step down herself, he's hearing none of it. The stern set to his jaw reminds her of Jimmy when she's being 'a rock head', and she knows better than to keep arguing at that point.
Grabbing Jackson's hand, she steps down and does her best not to stumble. His coat is hanging over her shoulders, partially covering the sling and the various cuts and bruises. The adrenaline has long since lifted, and her body aches all over.
But it's nothing compared to the knife in her chest when she sees Mysz. Her bottom lip trembles, and she has to bite it to make it stop, lifting her chin as she makes her way closer to him. The guilt is acid in her gut as she looks up at him, at a complete loss for words. First time for everything, right?
The helicopter ride back to base is silent, except for the rotors cutting through the air. Kalina is... well, honestly, she doesn't even know how she's doing. If she had to describe it in one word, it would be numb. She feels numb.
Thinking back on what happened, it almost felt like it was someone else who tore through that mansion like a vengeful spirit, and she was just watching from the sidelines. Still... she saved those girls, and the info they gathered from the scene and the target could possibly lead to saving more. And the world now has fewer monsters in it.
That's all that matters.
An attempt is made to clean herself up. The emerald dress is ruined, covered in enough blood that even club soda won't help it. She has various scrapes and bruises on her arms and legs. The most obvious injury is her left arm, placed in a sling until she can get examined in the infirmary.
She hears the call go through, the pilot informing HQ that they were set to land in three minutes. Kalina can feel Jackson's eyes on her, but all she can think about is one person... Mysz.
@the-big-bad-mysz
Kalina is... pouty. Although, if anyone ever said she was, she would threaten to punch them.
She is just leaving Jackson's office in a huff, trying very hard not to slam the door because she is a kind and considerate person. Unlike some people. Apparently, someone overheard her giving Murdock a piece of her mind and decided to snitch about it. What is this, high school?
Without really paying attention, she finds herself heading to the intelligence wing where the majority of the handlers work. Heading to someone in particular, who may be one of the only people she can handle being around when she's grumpy. Hopefully, he's not too grumpy, also.
It's okay if he is, though. She likes him.
She knocks on the door because, again, she is considerate. "Mysz? May I come in?"
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz hasn't been having a good day.
Every couple of hours, he's been getting this awful pain in his back and leg and when the pain isn't unbearable, it still feels like someone is standing on his older injuries. So, naturally, nobody has been allowed to talk to him today, not even Jackson, lest they risk being told to fuck off.
But Kalina... Well, Kalina is a special case — he likes her too much to not let her in.
"Mhm."
Kalina is already talking, even though she only has one foot in the door. And while she is clearly annoyed and upset, her voice is soft. Because yes, she is considerate to people who deserve it. The last thing she wants is to make a potential headache worse when it's Mysz.
"Oh, you will not believe... Baran had the nerve to tell me that Murdock didn't deserve to be called out on his bullshit. Pompatyczny mały człowieczek that he is, anyway. He already thinks he runs the place, with the way he..."
She trails off when she gets a proper look at Mysz, and it's dizzying how quickly she can switch gears. "Mysz, kochanie, you look terrible! What can I do?"
While Kalina is right — Mysz does have a pounding headache, hence his office being so dark — but she isn't making it worse. No, in fact he wants her to keep talking; her voice is doing wonders for his headache right now.
Leaning back in his chair, he glances over at her, not surprised that she's mad at Murdock (the guy's annoying, everyone wants him out) but Jackson saying that Kalina shouldn't have called him out? That's absurd, to be honest.
"'M fine, love. Come sit down," he says quietly, pulling out a little wheely chair that he bought specifically for Kalina when ever she comes into his office. "Keep talking, y'know I like your voice."
"Okay, if you're sure." It doesn't take much convincing from Kalina. She's positive that if Mysz didn't want company, he would say so. Walking over to the chair he pulls out, she sits down, back straight and hands in her lap. She's still in her stealth gear, and there's a scrape across her right cheek, barely back from her latest op. Maybe a couple of hours? She didn't keep track.
"So I was debriefing Baran, yeah? And I thought we were done, but before I leave, he starts talking about Murdock and how I should 'ease up' on him. You know he called Merrie's sweet szczeniak a mutt? Kretyn... anyway, what about his self-importance and cockiness, huh? He struts around like he's better than everyone else, and he's just... infuriating."
She blows some hair out of her face and takes a breath like she hadn't the entire time. Even as she gestures with her hands in clear annoyance, her voice never deviates from the soft pitch. "Okay... I feel a bit better now."
Mysz already doesn't like Murdock — he always got a weird vibe from the guy, though they hardly interact outside of missions — but calling Atlas a mutt? He's not about to let that slide; he's been here long enough to know that Atlas is one of the best dogs in the world, smart and a thousand times more considerate than many grown men.
"Might have a word with the kretyn later," he mumbles, his tone pretty flat but that's just because he's tired. "Knock him off his high horse." Or down a flight of stairs, whichever's better. He puts that thought aside for now though, more focused on the still-bleeding scrape on her cheek.
Once Kalina says she feels a bit better, Mysz nods. "Good. Can I have a look at your cheek?"
"Oh, I wouldn't waste your breath on him," Kalina responds, waving a gloved hand dismissively while rolling her eyes. "You'd have better luck talking sense into a brick wall, and the conversation would be more interesting, too."
She lets out a soft sigh, about to steer the conversation to something more pleasant when Mysz asks his question. Tilting her head, she furrows her brow and reaches up to her face. "Huh? My cheek? Oh, that. Yeah, some pierdoła managed to pin me against a brick wall, but I broke his leg."
Her smile turns sweet, one reserved for Mysz and... well, him mostly, now that she thinks about it. "If it will make you feel better, dear."
Mysz shrugs when Kalina equates Murdock to a brick wall. Stairs it is then.
As Kalina explains how she managed to sustain the injury, Mysz gets the little first aid kit from the drawer in his desk, humming quietly in acknowledgement of the retaliation. This is why he tries not to worry too much about her — she can handle herself — but he can't help the way his blood boils whenever she comes back from an op hurt, no matter how superficial the wound is. He doesn't like seeing her harmed.
"Marginally," is his response to whether it would make him feel better to take care of her, though what he means is that it would make him feel way better, at least mentally.
He takes out a cotton swab, dips it in the rather strong disinfectant from the first aid kit, and carefully begins to clean the scrape, gently holding Kalina'a chin to keep her in place.
Kalina is awful at staying still most of the time, at least when she isn't on a mission that requires it. However, when Mysz holds her chin, she doesn't move a muscle. Even her breathing slows down, but her heart certainly doesn't. As the cotton swab first touches her cheek, she hisses at the sting, fighting against the instinct to pull back.
"Ouchie," she murmurs, barely moving her lips. As he works, she looks off to the side at the wall, but it isn't long before green eyes are looking at him again. It can't be helped, really... he is right there. He is so sweet to me.
Mysz only pauses when she hisses, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gives the sting a moment to subside, mumbling a little "Przepraszam" to Kalina before he continues to clean the wound. It's almost fascinating to see her so still.
He knows she's looking at him; he can almost feel her gaze. He doesn't mind though, if only because it's her — where else is she meant to look anyway? They are rather close together at the moment.
Another thing Kalina notices with Mysz is that the silence is never awkward. Usually, the need to fill it with something is strong: jokes, observations, anything for it not to be quiet for longer than five seconds. She's... comfortable, just sitting like this. Watching him take such gentle care of her cheek.
As he finishes up, though, she can't help but chuckle softly. "What do you think, doctor? Will I still get to have my pretty face once this heals?"
Mysz can't help but smile when Kalina calls him 'doctor', amused by the accuracy, even if she doesn't know.
"I don't think anything could make you any less pretty," he responds before he can think about the words that leave his mouth, trying to remain as casual as possible when he notices.
Letting go of her cheek, he takes one more look at her before leaning back in his chair, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that shoots up his back.
The thing is, Kalina knows she's pretty. Not in a vain kind of way, but... she's had to use certain assets to carry out missions before, and she likes the way she looks. But hearing Mysz say such a thing hits her in a way she isn't expecting. Her cheeks feel warm, her pulse is a bit erratic. Well, this is... huh.
She just looks at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to solve when she hears the groan, and her brain quickly shifts gears. "Oh, kochanie, is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" He helped her, so it's the least she can do... whatever that may be.
Mysz hesitates for a moment when Kalina asks if there's anything she can do, mainly because the only thing he can think of seems just a little awkward. However, the pain isn't subsiding, it's getting worse, so he has to ask.
"Are your hands warm?" he asks, a kind of plead in his eyes — he's in so much pain.
Kalina doesn't hesitate to answer with a nod, already moving to pull off her gloves. While all she could really focus on was the fact that Mysz was touching her face, she still felt how cold his hands were. And with those sad puppy eyes of his, she's nearly ripping the gloves apart.
"Oh, yes! Always, see?" Setting her gloves on his desk, she takes one of his hands in both of her own. The contrast is staggering between the temperature of their hands as she gently squeezes.
Mysz can't help but smile, strained as the expression is, at how warm Kalina's hands are — just when he thought she couldn't be any more perfect. Though the smile is quickly wiped off his face by another sudden jolt of pain up his back. Ow.
"Could you put your hand on my lower back please?" he manages to ask through gritted teeth, trying not to squeeze her hand too tight. "You'll know the spot when you find it — 's sorta raised."
Kalina has questions about why part of his back is raised, but that can certainly wait. If she asks at all. Right now, her focus is on helping him find some relief. She nods once, determined, like he just gave her an important mission objective. "Of course. Let me see."
While he maneuvers however he needs to, she quickly rubs her hands together, even though they are already quite warm. It's for good measure. Starting at about the middle of his back, she moves down until... oh. He wasn't exaggerating. "Ohhh, okay. Yes, I found the spot. How is that?"
One day Mysz will explain the extent of all his old injuries to Kalina, a day when he isn't dealing with said injuries. For now he just shuffles forward in his chair so that she can better reach where he needs her hand to be.
When Kalina finds the spot, Mysz lets out a relieved sigh. It's the least pain he's been in all day; it's so nice. Granted, he's still in a lot of pain but it feels... "Better. Thank you."
He could ask her to press down, knowing that pressure helps to alleviate the pain, but there's a sound he makes at that point that he doesn't want anyone hearing.
"Anytime, dear," Kalina murmurs, smiling at him before getting more comfortable in her chair. She's not sure why she does it, and she hopes Mysz doesn't mind, but she finds herself resting her head on his shoulder. If she's going to be here for a bit, she might as well get comfortable, right?
"I am sorry you have to deal with this," she says quietly, slowly moving her hand over the spot on his back. Kalina didn't deal with chronic pain issues. Various injuries, soreness from exertion and pushing herself to the limit, yes. But nothing like this.
Mysz glances at Kalina when her head falls to his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his features, something unequivocally fond, reserved especially for her.
The apology catches him off-guard, but not because it's unexpected, but because it lacks the usual pity people phrase it with, makes it feel that much more genuine, sympathetic.
"...'s fine; I cope." The response is quiet and feels almost inadequate. "D'you have any questions about it?"
"Only the ones I'm sure you're sick of hearing. How did it happen, how long have you had to deal with it..."
Kalina is honestly surprised when Mysz asks if she has any questions. That has to mean he trusts her, right? She hopes it does. Trust can be a rare thing in her line of work... and her personal life. "But only if you want to talk about it, kochanie. No pressure."
Mysz does trust her. It's scary — the last person he properly trusted tried to kill him — but he really does trust Kalina.
"Wouldn't've asked if I didn't wanna answer, love. I got shot about... 4 years ago now? Bullet hit one of my vertebrae and my back's been awful ever since." He explains it so casually, as if it's a normal thing to have happen. "Then there's my shoulder, dislocated that a few times back when I worked in security, now it's permanently screwed, same thing with my knee, but those are older injuries — 6 years or so."
Kalina quietly listens to Mysz as he speaks, her hand continuing the slow and soothing circles along his back. "Wielkie nieba," she mutters. She hadn't realized he had been in such dangerous situations before he began working here. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she has to shift a bit.
It also makes her realize just how lucky she's been up to this point.
"Do you like what you do now?" She asks genuinely, tilting her head just enough so she can see his face while keeping it on his shoulder. "I mean, besides how frustrating certain people and things can be. Are you happy here?"
He notices Kalina shifting beside him, putting it down to discomfort, or perhaps even worry. Whatever she shifts out of, it makes his heart feel weird, something like guilt welling up in his chest.
"Honestly? Best job I've bad so far. Makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing, helping people," he mutters. "Put me back in a good headspace after the injury, being here."
"That's really good. I'm glad." The words are standard enough, but Kalina means them with her entire heart. If she were to make a list of the things that she likes about this job, 'working with Mysz' would be on it. Near the top, even. With a little smiley face doodle next to it for good measure.
"You're also really good at it too, you know? Whenever I know you're going to be the little ptaszyna in my ear, I'm like 'oh this is going to be easy peasy because my best buddy's got my back.'
Oh.
For some reason, Kalina's heartfelt compliment makes Mysz's heart all fluttery and warm and oh god, he's in love. The realisation suddenly hits him, despite having felt this way about her for a while — he'd forgotten the exact name for the feeling.
"I–..." Mysz trails off for a moment, trying to silence the alarm bells in his brain. I love you. "I'm glad you think so. I like working with you."
If Kalina's smile could light up a room, it would be right now, and she would have to fight to keep her mouth closed so she didn't make Mysz' headache worse.
"Really?" Her head lifts up, and her other hand falls on his knee without much thought as she looks at him. She had been worried about the silence of the moment, only because she was worried about his reaction when she called him her best buddy. "I like working with you, too, Mysz."
Now it's her turn to pause, and it feels like there are hummingbirds fighting in her stomach. Bigger than butterflies, surely. "I like you."
Reel it in, Wilson; you'll scare her off.
Mysz unintentionally flinches when Kalina puts her hand on his knee, the gesture so sudden that it startled him, but he doesn't move her hand.
There are enough butterflies in his stomach to power his entire computer setup and his heart is in his throat as he looks into Kalina's eyes. Don't say it, Wilson.
"I've always liked you."
Always. Always. The word rattles around in Kalina's brain. No one always likes her. She's too chatty, too blunt, too... much. But hearing Mysz say it so plainly, she can't do anything but believe him.
But she needs to be careful. Reading too much into this will only cause pain, and she doesn't know if she would survive that from him.
"Always, huh?" She goes for confidence and stumbles, humming and looking to the side. "That's... the first time I've ever heard that."
"It shouldn't be," he mumbles, leaning forward a little to rest his forehead on her shoulder — it feels daunting to look at her right now — with a quiet hum. "You're sweet n' fun n' honest; it's impossible not to like you."
At the risk of feeling selfish, he really hopes Kalina is reading into this a little, because as much as he's scared to consider it he wants her to reciprocate.
Kalina's gaze moves back to Mysz when she feels his forehead rest on her shoulder. That paired with the words he says, and it feels like those hummingbirds have migrated into her ribcage where her heart is supposed to be.
In this moment, she realizes that she is terrified. A different kind of fear than what she faces out on missions. It's the fear of someone getting close enough to possibly hurt her, and she doesn't mean physically. And while she can't even imagine Mysz doing such a thing intentionally... it's still scary.
Taking a deep breath, her free hand slowly reaches up to run over his head, hoping he doesn't notice the way it trembles. "I know some who would disagree," she responds with a chuckle tinged with self-deprecation. "I also think you are sweet... yet you still don't sugarcoat shit. A good balance."
Mysz hears the self-deprecation in Kalina's chuckle and it makes him so fucking sad. If he could find the words, he'd describe every single reason why she's like a saint to him, why she's practically perfect.
Then she calls him sweet and his heart skips a beat in a way it hasn't done since... well never, actually. For a moment he thinks he might die.
"Think you're the only person in the world who thinks I'm sweet, love."
"Well, I don't believe that for one second," Kalina responds as she continues running her hand over Mysz' head. There's no way she could be the only person who sees what she does. But the thought of him thinking so only makes her more determined.
"You make me feel... good. Like... I can be myself, and it's okay." It's a simple but raw truth, hinting at something deeper that she won't look at directly in this moment. "So if by some oddity I am the only one... thank you." Closing the short distance, she places a chaste kiss on top of his head.
Mysz has never felt so emotionally compromised before this point, when Kalina thanks him for making her feel comfortable with him, a lump forming in his throat as he wills himself not to blurt out something stupid.
But then she kisses him — just a small kiss on the head — and every wall he has put up crumbles all at once and he freezes, his entire mind on pause as he processes the action.
Then he starts crying. As in sobbing. It's not particularly loud but it's not silent either.
He hasn't cried in years.
Oh no. Oh no.
Crying is... usually not a good thing, right? Kalina can't even remember the last time she cried, and she's absolute shit at comforting people. But knowing she possibly upset Mysz in some way makes it feel like her chest has been ripped open.
"Oh gosh. Oh goodness, *kochanie, bardzo mi przykro,*" she rushes out, carefully moving so she can wrap her arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you!"
Mysz wraps his arms around her firmly, his face against her shoulder as he sniffles quietly between sobs. Now that he's started, he can't seem to stop crying.
"'M not–" he cuts himself off with a sniffle. "'M not upset, promise." He isn't sure what he's feeling but he's almost 100% sure that it's not negative. Emotions are difficult.
While Kalina believes that Mysz wouldn't lie to her, she still feels bad somehow. But she pushes that away, turning her focus to the man she cares about that's clinging to her like a lifesaver in a restless sea.
"Okay," she murmurs against the side of his head as she holds him. One hand continues to move along the sore spot of his back, while the other gently cradles the back of his head. "I've got you, Mysz. Promise."
The way Kalina cradles him so carefully, like something to be cherished, makes Mysz cry just a little harder, no longer able to speak through his tears, only able to hold her for a while. A few minutes pass before he says anything else.
"Jesteś dla mnie... bardzo ważny, ukochany.." he mutters. "...jesteś dla mnie wszystkim."
Kalina continues to hold Mysz, more than happy to be there for him to lean on. Such strong emotions would usually make her want to run, but with him... it doesn't even cross her mind. She could never do that to him. And when he speaks again...
You are everything to me.
She blinks, thinking she misheard him at first. Surely he's just emotional, overwhelmed? Unless... this is why he is that way in the first place.
She tenses before relaxing again, trembling because she's fucking terrified, but it doesn't stop her from holding him as close as possible. "Mysz..." It's barely a whisper against his hair before her eyes close. "Jesteś dla mnie całym światem, kochanie."
When he feels Kalina tense up, there is a moment where he is so scared. Scared that he overstepped, that he'd said too much to soon, that she's upset. But then she says he means the world to her and he has to shift to look her in the eye, his own a little puffy from the crying but that doesn't stop him from looking at her so reverently.
"You're perfect, ukochany."
Kalina's eyes begin to burn, and it takes her a few seconds to realize that it's because she may also start crying. They gloss over as he looks at her and calls her perfect, looking at her like he believes it with his whole heart.
"No one is perfect," she responds softly, immediately sighing. Why can't I just take the compliment? She moves her hand from his back, only so she can gently swipe a tear away from his cheek. "But that you think so... I'm honored."
He simply shrugs when she tries to deny the compliment. "Nobody is objectively perfect," he corrects her. "But you're perfect t'me. Alright?"
He leans up to press a kiss to her forehead, something tender and reverent, if a little shaky from his previous bout of tears. And maybe a little bit of nerves. Why is he nervous?
Kalina opens her mouth to respond, but it promptly turns into a shaky inhale when he kisses her forehead. Mysz isn't the only one that's nervous. There's a shift happening beyond coworkers and friends, and she doesn't know what to do about it.
She usually knows what to do about anything with the way her mind races through scenarios and contingencies. Now, it's like there's TV static in her brain. It's a moment before she speaks again, rushed and unsure. Since when is she unsure? "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"
Sure Mysz is a little anxious about how this could play out, always thinking of the worst case scenario as a defense mechanism, but he knows that he really likes Kalina.
So when she invites him over for dinner, he doesn't hesitate to respond. "If it's not any trouble."
"No, not at all, I... I like to cook a lot," Kalina admits plainly before letting out a soft chuckle. "And I already know you like my food, so why not."
It's why she's always bringing him things she thinks he will like. Food has always been an expression of care and love for her, learned by her grandma.
Love. Oh, it's too early for that word, isn't it?
"Besides... it would be nice to spend some time with you. Outside of work."
Kalina is... pouty. Although, if anyone ever said she was, she would threaten to punch them.
She is just leaving Jackson's office in a huff, trying very hard not to slam the door because she is a kind and considerate person. Unlike some people. Apparently, someone overheard her giving Murdock a piece of her mind and decided to snitch about it. What is this, high school?
Without really paying attention, she finds herself heading to the intelligence wing where the majority of the handlers work. Heading to someone in particular, who may be one of the only people she can handle being around when she's grumpy. Hopefully, he's not too grumpy, also.
It's okay if he is, though. She likes him.
She knocks on the door because, again, she is considerate. "Mysz? May I come in?"
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz hasn't been having a good day.
Every couple of hours, he's been getting this awful pain in his back and leg and when the pain isn't unbearable, it still feels like someone is standing on his older injuries. So, naturally, nobody has been allowed to talk to him today, not even Jackson, lest they risk being told to fuck off.
But Kalina... Well, Kalina is a special case — he likes her too much to not let her in.
"Mhm."
Kalina is already talking, even though she only has one foot in the door. And while she is clearly annoyed and upset, her voice is soft. Because yes, she is considerate to people who deserve it. The last thing she wants is to make a potential headache worse when it's Mysz.
"Oh, you will not believe... Baran had the nerve to tell me that Murdock didn't deserve to be called out on his bullshit. Pompatyczny mały człowieczek that he is, anyway. He already thinks he runs the place, with the way he..."
She trails off when she gets a proper look at Mysz, and it's dizzying how quickly she can switch gears. "Mysz, kochanie, you look terrible! What can I do?"
While Kalina is right — Mysz does have a pounding headache, hence his office being so dark — but she isn't making it worse. No, in fact he wants her to keep talking; her voice is doing wonders for his headache right now.
Leaning back in his chair, he glances over at her, not surprised that she's mad at Murdock (the guy's annoying, everyone wants him out) but Jackson saying that Kalina shouldn't have called him out? That's absurd, to be honest.
"'M fine, love. Come sit down," he says quietly, pulling out a little wheely chair that he bought specifically for Kalina when ever she comes into his office. "Keep talking, y'know I like your voice."
"Okay, if you're sure." It doesn't take much convincing from Kalina. She's positive that if Mysz didn't want company, he would say so. Walking over to the chair he pulls out, she sits down, back straight and hands in her lap. She's still in her stealth gear, and there's a scrape across her right cheek, barely back from her latest op. Maybe a couple of hours? She didn't keep track.
"So I was debriefing Baran, yeah? And I thought we were done, but before I leave, he starts talking about Murdock and how I should 'ease up' on him. You know he called Merrie's sweet szczeniak a mutt? Kretyn... anyway, what about his self-importance and cockiness, huh? He struts around like he's better than everyone else, and he's just... infuriating."
She blows some hair out of her face and takes a breath like she hadn't the entire time. Even as she gestures with her hands in clear annoyance, her voice never deviates from the soft pitch. "Okay... I feel a bit better now."
Mysz already doesn't like Murdock — he always got a weird vibe from the guy, though they hardly interact outside of missions — but calling Atlas a mutt? He's not about to let that slide; he's been here long enough to know that Atlas is one of the best dogs in the world, smart and a thousand times more considerate than many grown men.
"Might have a word with the kretyn later," he mumbles, his tone pretty flat but that's just because he's tired. "Knock him off his high horse." Or down a flight of stairs, whichever's better. He puts that thought aside for now though, more focused on the still-bleeding scrape on her cheek.
Once Kalina says she feels a bit better, Mysz nods. "Good. Can I have a look at your cheek?"
"Oh, I wouldn't waste your breath on him," Kalina responds, waving a gloved hand dismissively while rolling her eyes. "You'd have better luck talking sense into a brick wall, and the conversation would be more interesting, too."
She lets out a soft sigh, about to steer the conversation to something more pleasant when Mysz asks his question. Tilting her head, she furrows her brow and reaches up to her face. "Huh? My cheek? Oh, that. Yeah, some pierdoła managed to pin me against a brick wall, but I broke his leg."
Her smile turns sweet, one reserved for Mysz and... well, him mostly, now that she thinks about it. "If it will make you feel better, dear."
Mysz shrugs when Kalina equates Murdock to a brick wall. Stairs it is then.
As Kalina explains how she managed to sustain the injury, Mysz gets the little first aid kit from the drawer in his desk, humming quietly in acknowledgement of the retaliation. This is why he tries not to worry too much about her — she can handle herself — but he can't help the way his blood boils whenever she comes back from an op hurt, no matter how superficial the wound is. He doesn't like seeing her harmed.
"Marginally," is his response to whether it would make him feel better to take care of her, though what he means is that it would make him feel way better, at least mentally.
He takes out a cotton swab, dips it in the rather strong disinfectant from the first aid kit, and carefully begins to clean the scrape, gently holding Kalina'a chin to keep her in place.
Kalina is awful at staying still most of the time, at least when she isn't on a mission that requires it. However, when Mysz holds her chin, she doesn't move a muscle. Even her breathing slows down, but her heart certainly doesn't. As the cotton swab first touches her cheek, she hisses at the sting, fighting against the instinct to pull back.
"Ouchie," she murmurs, barely moving her lips. As he works, she looks off to the side at the wall, but it isn't long before green eyes are looking at him again. It can't be helped, really... he is right there. He is so sweet to me.
Mysz only pauses when she hisses, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gives the sting a moment to subside, mumbling a little "Przepraszam" to Kalina before he continues to clean the wound. It's almost fascinating to see her so still.
He knows she's looking at him; he can almost feel her gaze. He doesn't mind though, if only because it's her — where else is she meant to look anyway? They are rather close together at the moment.
Another thing Kalina notices with Mysz is that the silence is never awkward. Usually, the need to fill it with something is strong: jokes, observations, anything for it not to be quiet for longer than five seconds. She's... comfortable, just sitting like this. Watching him take such gentle care of her cheek.
As he finishes up, though, she can't help but chuckle softly. "What do you think, doctor? Will I still get to have my pretty face once this heals?"
Mysz can't help but smile when Kalina calls him 'doctor', amused by the accuracy, even if she doesn't know.
"I don't think anything could make you any less pretty," he responds before he can think about the words that leave his mouth, trying to remain as casual as possible when he notices.
Letting go of her cheek, he takes one more look at her before leaning back in his chair, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that shoots up his back.
The thing is, Kalina knows she's pretty. Not in a vain kind of way, but... she's had to use certain assets to carry out missions before, and she likes the way she looks. But hearing Mysz say such a thing hits her in a way she isn't expecting. Her cheeks feel warm, her pulse is a bit erratic. Well, this is... huh.
She just looks at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to solve when she hears the groan, and her brain quickly shifts gears. "Oh, kochanie, is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" He helped her, so it's the least she can do... whatever that may be.
Mysz hesitates for a moment when Kalina asks if there's anything she can do, mainly because the only thing he can think of seems just a little awkward. However, the pain isn't subsiding, it's getting worse, so he has to ask.
"Are your hands warm?" he asks, a kind of plead in his eyes — he's in so much pain.
Kalina doesn't hesitate to answer with a nod, already moving to pull off her gloves. While all she could really focus on was the fact that Mysz was touching her face, she still felt how cold his hands were. And with those sad puppy eyes of his, she's nearly ripping the gloves apart.
"Oh, yes! Always, see?" Setting her gloves on his desk, she takes one of his hands in both of her own. The contrast is staggering between the temperature of their hands as she gently squeezes.
Mysz can't help but smile, strained as the expression is, at how warm Kalina's hands are — just when he thought she couldn't be any more perfect. Though the smile is quickly wiped off his face by another sudden jolt of pain up his back. Ow.
"Could you put your hand on my lower back please?" he manages to ask through gritted teeth, trying not to squeeze her hand too tight. "You'll know the spot when you find it — 's sorta raised."
Kalina has questions about why part of his back is raised, but that can certainly wait. If she asks at all. Right now, her focus is on helping him find some relief. She nods once, determined, like he just gave her an important mission objective. "Of course. Let me see."
While he maneuvers however he needs to, she quickly rubs her hands together, even though they are already quite warm. It's for good measure. Starting at about the middle of his back, she moves down until... oh. He wasn't exaggerating. "Ohhh, okay. Yes, I found the spot. How is that?"
One day Mysz will explain the extent of all his old injuries to Kalina, a day when he isn't dealing with said injuries. For now he just shuffles forward in his chair so that she can better reach where he needs her hand to be.
When Kalina finds the spot, Mysz lets out a relieved sigh. It's the least pain he's been in all day; it's so nice. Granted, he's still in a lot of pain but it feels... "Better. Thank you."
He could ask her to press down, knowing that pressure helps to alleviate the pain, but there's a sound he makes at that point that he doesn't want anyone hearing.
"Anytime, dear," Kalina murmurs, smiling at him before getting more comfortable in her chair. She's not sure why she does it, and she hopes Mysz doesn't mind, but she finds herself resting her head on his shoulder. If she's going to be here for a bit, she might as well get comfortable, right?
"I am sorry you have to deal with this," she says quietly, slowly moving her hand over the spot on his back. Kalina didn't deal with chronic pain issues. Various injuries, soreness from exertion and pushing herself to the limit, yes. But nothing like this.
Mysz glances at Kalina when her head falls to his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his features, something unequivocally fond, reserved especially for her.
The apology catches him off-guard, but not because it's unexpected, but because it lacks the usual pity people phrase it with, makes it feel that much more genuine, sympathetic.
"...'s fine; I cope." The response is quiet and feels almost inadequate. "D'you have any questions about it?"
"Only the ones I'm sure you're sick of hearing. How did it happen, how long have you had to deal with it..."
Kalina is honestly surprised when Mysz asks if she has any questions. That has to mean he trusts her, right? She hopes it does. Trust can be a rare thing in her line of work... and her personal life. "But only if you want to talk about it, kochanie. No pressure."
Mysz does trust her. It's scary — the last person he properly trusted tried to kill him — but he really does trust Kalina.
"Wouldn't've asked if I didn't wanna answer, love. I got shot about... 4 years ago now? Bullet hit one of my vertebrae and my back's been awful ever since." He explains it so casually, as if it's a normal thing to have happen. "Then there's my shoulder, dislocated that a few times back when I worked in security, now it's permanently screwed, same thing with my knee, but those are older injuries — 6 years or so."
Kalina quietly listens to Mysz as he speaks, her hand continuing the slow and soothing circles along his back. "Wielkie nieba," she mutters. She hadn't realized he had been in such dangerous situations before he began working here. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she has to shift a bit.
It also makes her realize just how lucky she's been up to this point.
"Do you like what you do now?" She asks genuinely, tilting her head just enough so she can see his face while keeping it on his shoulder. "I mean, besides how frustrating certain people and things can be. Are you happy here?"
He notices Kalina shifting beside him, putting it down to discomfort, or perhaps even worry. Whatever she shifts out of, it makes his heart feel weird, something like guilt welling up in his chest.
"Honestly? Best job I've bad so far. Makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing, helping people," he mutters. "Put me back in a good headspace after the injury, being here."
"That's really good. I'm glad." The words are standard enough, but Kalina means them with her entire heart. If she were to make a list of the things that she likes about this job, 'working with Mysz' would be on it. Near the top, even. With a little smiley face doodle next to it for good measure.
"You're also really good at it too, you know? Whenever I know you're going to be the little ptaszyna in my ear, I'm like 'oh this is going to be easy peasy because my best buddy's got my back.'
Oh.
For some reason, Kalina's heartfelt compliment makes Mysz's heart all fluttery and warm and oh god, he's in love. The realisation suddenly hits him, despite having felt this way about her for a while — he'd forgotten the exact name for the feeling.
"I–..." Mysz trails off for a moment, trying to silence the alarm bells in his brain. I love you. "I'm glad you think so. I like working with you."
If Kalina's smile could light up a room, it would be right now, and she would have to fight to keep her mouth closed so she didn't make Mysz' headache worse.
"Really?" Her head lifts up, and her other hand falls on his knee without much thought as she looks at him. She had been worried about the silence of the moment, only because she was worried about his reaction when she called him her best buddy. "I like working with you, too, Mysz."
Now it's her turn to pause, and it feels like there are hummingbirds fighting in her stomach. Bigger than butterflies, surely. "I like you."
Reel it in, Wilson; you'll scare her off.
Mysz unintentionally flinches when Kalina puts her hand on his knee, the gesture so sudden that it startled him, but he doesn't move her hand.
There are enough butterflies in his stomach to power his entire computer setup and his heart is in his throat as he looks into Kalina's eyes. Don't say it, Wilson.
"I've always liked you."
Always. Always. The word rattles around in Kalina's brain. No one always likes her. She's too chatty, too blunt, too... much. But hearing Mysz say it so plainly, she can't do anything but believe him.
But she needs to be careful. Reading too much into this will only cause pain, and she doesn't know if she would survive that from him.
"Always, huh?" She goes for confidence and stumbles, humming and looking to the side. "That's... the first time I've ever heard that."
"It shouldn't be," he mumbles, leaning forward a little to rest his forehead on her shoulder — it feels daunting to look at her right now — with a quiet hum. "You're sweet n' fun n' honest; it's impossible not to like you."
At the risk of feeling selfish, he really hopes Kalina is reading into this a little, because as much as he's scared to consider it he wants her to reciprocate.
Kalina's gaze moves back to Mysz when she feels his forehead rest on her shoulder. That paired with the words he says, and it feels like those hummingbirds have migrated into her ribcage where her heart is supposed to be.
In this moment, she realizes that she is terrified. A different kind of fear than what she faces out on missions. It's the fear of someone getting close enough to possibly hurt her, and she doesn't mean physically. And while she can't even imagine Mysz doing such a thing intentionally... it's still scary.
Taking a deep breath, her free hand slowly reaches up to run over his head, hoping he doesn't notice the way it trembles. "I know some who would disagree," she responds with a chuckle tinged with self-deprecation. "I also think you are sweet... yet you still don't sugarcoat shit. A good balance."
Mysz hears the self-deprecation in Kalina's chuckle and it makes him so fucking sad. If he could find the words, he'd describe every single reason why she's like a saint to him, why she's practically perfect.
Then she calls him sweet and his heart skips a beat in a way it hasn't done since... well never, actually. For a moment he thinks he might die.
"Think you're the only person in the world who thinks I'm sweet, love."
"Well, I don't believe that for one second," Kalina responds as she continues running her hand over Mysz' head. There's no way she could be the only person who sees what she does. But the thought of him thinking so only makes her more determined.
"You make me feel... good. Like... I can be myself, and it's okay." It's a simple but raw truth, hinting at something deeper that she won't look at directly in this moment. "So if by some oddity I am the only one... thank you." Closing the short distance, she places a chaste kiss on top of his head.
Mysz has never felt so emotionally compromised before this point, when Kalina thanks him for making her feel comfortable with him, a lump forming in his throat as he wills himself not to blurt out something stupid.
But then she kisses him — just a small kiss on the head — and every wall he has put up crumbles all at once and he freezes, his entire mind on pause as he processes the action.
Then he starts crying. As in sobbing. It's not particularly loud but it's not silent either.
He hasn't cried in years.
Oh no. Oh no.
Crying is... usually not a good thing, right? Kalina can't even remember the last time she cried, and she's absolute shit at comforting people. But knowing she possibly upset Mysz in some way makes it feel like her chest has been ripped open.
"Oh gosh. Oh goodness, *kochanie, bardzo mi przykro,*" she rushes out, carefully moving so she can wrap her arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you!"
Mysz wraps his arms around her firmly, his face against her shoulder as he sniffles quietly between sobs. Now that he's started, he can't seem to stop crying.
"'M not–" he cuts himself off with a sniffle. "'M not upset, promise." He isn't sure what he's feeling but he's almost 100% sure that it's not negative. Emotions are difficult.
While Kalina believes that Mysz wouldn't lie to her, she still feels bad somehow. But she pushes that away, turning her focus to the man she cares about that's clinging to her like a lifesaver in a restless sea.
"Okay," she murmurs against the side of his head as she holds him. One hand continues to move along the sore spot of his back, while the other gently cradles the back of his head. "I've got you, Mysz. Promise."
The way Kalina cradles him so carefully, like something to be cherished, makes Mysz cry just a little harder, no longer able to speak through his tears, only able to hold her for a while. A few minutes pass before he says anything else.
"Jesteś dla mnie... bardzo ważny, ukochany.." he mutters. "...jesteś dla mnie wszystkim."
Kalina continues to hold Mysz, more than happy to be there for him to lean on. Such strong emotions would usually make her want to run, but with him... it doesn't even cross her mind. She could never do that to him. And when he speaks again...
You are everything to me.
She blinks, thinking she misheard him at first. Surely he's just emotional, overwhelmed? Unless... this is why he is that way in the first place.
She tenses before relaxing again, trembling because she's fucking terrified, but it doesn't stop her from holding him as close as possible. "Mysz..." It's barely a whisper against his hair before her eyes close. "Jesteś dla mnie całym światem, kochanie."
When he feels Kalina tense up, there is a moment where he is so scared. Scared that he overstepped, that he'd said too much to soon, that she's upset. But then she says he means the world to her and he has to shift to look her in the eye, his own a little puffy from the crying but that doesn't stop him from looking at her so reverently.
"You're perfect, ukochany."
Kalina's eyes begin to burn, and it takes her a few seconds to realize that it's because she may also start crying. They gloss over as he looks at her and calls her perfect, looking at her like he believes it with his whole heart.
"No one is perfect," she responds softly, immediately sighing. Why can't I just take the compliment? She moves her hand from his back, only so she can gently swipe a tear away from his cheek. "But that you think so... I'm honored."
He simply shrugs when she tries to deny the compliment. "Nobody is objectively perfect," he corrects her. "But you're perfect t'me. Alright?"
He leans up to press a kiss to her forehead, something tender and reverent, if a little shaky from his previous bout of tears. And maybe a little bit of nerves. Why is he nervous?
Kalina opens her mouth to respond, but it promptly turns into a shaky inhale when he kisses her forehead. Mysz isn't the only one that's nervous. There's a shift happening beyond coworkers and friends, and she doesn't know what to do about it.
She usually knows what to do about anything with the way her mind races through scenarios and contingencies. Now, it's like there's TV static in her brain. It's a moment before she speaks again, rushed and unsure. Since when is she unsure? "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"
Kalina is... pouty. Although, if anyone ever said she was, she would threaten to punch them.
She is just leaving Jackson's office in a huff, trying very hard not to slam the door because she is a kind and considerate person. Unlike some people. Apparently, someone overheard her giving Murdock a piece of her mind and decided to snitch about it. What is this, high school?
Without really paying attention, she finds herself heading to the intelligence wing where the majority of the handlers work. Heading to someone in particular, who may be one of the only people she can handle being around when she's grumpy. Hopefully, he's not too grumpy, also.
It's okay if he is, though. She likes him.
She knocks on the door because, again, she is considerate. "Mysz? May I come in?"
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz hasn't been having a good day.
Every couple of hours, he's been getting this awful pain in his back and leg and when the pain isn't unbearable, it still feels like someone is standing on his older injuries. So, naturally, nobody has been allowed to talk to him today, not even Jackson, lest they risk being told to fuck off.
But Kalina... Well, Kalina is a special case — he likes her too much to not let her in.
"Mhm."
Kalina is already talking, even though she only has one foot in the door. And while she is clearly annoyed and upset, her voice is soft. Because yes, she is considerate to people who deserve it. The last thing she wants is to make a potential headache worse when it's Mysz.
"Oh, you will not believe... Baran had the nerve to tell me that Murdock didn't deserve to be called out on his bullshit. Pompatyczny mały człowieczek that he is, anyway. He already thinks he runs the place, with the way he..."
She trails off when she gets a proper look at Mysz, and it's dizzying how quickly she can switch gears. "Mysz, kochanie, you look terrible! What can I do?"
While Kalina is right — Mysz does have a pounding headache, hence his office being so dark — but she isn't making it worse. No, in fact he wants her to keep talking; her voice is doing wonders for his headache right now.
Leaning back in his chair, he glances over at her, not surprised that she's mad at Murdock (the guy's annoying, everyone wants him out) but Jackson saying that Kalina shouldn't have called him out? That's absurd, to be honest.
"'M fine, love. Come sit down," he says quietly, pulling out a little wheely chair that he bought specifically for Kalina when ever she comes into his office. "Keep talking, y'know I like your voice."
"Okay, if you're sure." It doesn't take much convincing from Kalina. She's positive that if Mysz didn't want company, he would say so. Walking over to the chair he pulls out, she sits down, back straight and hands in her lap. She's still in her stealth gear, and there's a scrape across her right cheek, barely back from her latest op. Maybe a couple of hours? She didn't keep track.
"So I was debriefing Baran, yeah? And I thought we were done, but before I leave, he starts talking about Murdock and how I should 'ease up' on him. You know he called Merrie's sweet szczeniak a mutt? Kretyn... anyway, what about his self-importance and cockiness, huh? He struts around like he's better than everyone else, and he's just... infuriating."
She blows some hair out of her face and takes a breath like she hadn't the entire time. Even as she gestures with her hands in clear annoyance, her voice never deviates from the soft pitch. "Okay... I feel a bit better now."
Mysz already doesn't like Murdock — he always got a weird vibe from the guy, though they hardly interact outside of missions — but calling Atlas a mutt? He's not about to let that slide; he's been here long enough to know that Atlas is one of the best dogs in the world, smart and a thousand times more considerate than many grown men.
"Might have a word with the kretyn later," he mumbles, his tone pretty flat but that's just because he's tired. "Knock him off his high horse." Or down a flight of stairs, whichever's better. He puts that thought aside for now though, more focused on the still-bleeding scrape on her cheek.
Once Kalina says she feels a bit better, Mysz nods. "Good. Can I have a look at your cheek?"
"Oh, I wouldn't waste your breath on him," Kalina responds, waving a gloved hand dismissively while rolling her eyes. "You'd have better luck talking sense into a brick wall, and the conversation would be more interesting, too."
She lets out a soft sigh, about to steer the conversation to something more pleasant when Mysz asks his question. Tilting her head, she furrows her brow and reaches up to her face. "Huh? My cheek? Oh, that. Yeah, some pierdoła managed to pin me against a brick wall, but I broke his leg."
Her smile turns sweet, one reserved for Mysz and... well, him mostly, now that she thinks about it. "If it will make you feel better, dear."
Mysz shrugs when Kalina equates Murdock to a brick wall. Stairs it is then.
As Kalina explains how she managed to sustain the injury, Mysz gets the little first aid kit from the drawer in his desk, humming quietly in acknowledgement of the retaliation. This is why he tries not to worry too much about her — she can handle herself — but he can't help the way his blood boils whenever she comes back from an op hurt, no matter how superficial the wound is. He doesn't like seeing her harmed.
"Marginally," is his response to whether it would make him feel better to take care of her, though what he means is that it would make him feel way better, at least mentally.
He takes out a cotton swab, dips it in the rather strong disinfectant from the first aid kit, and carefully begins to clean the scrape, gently holding Kalina'a chin to keep her in place.
Kalina is awful at staying still most of the time, at least when she isn't on a mission that requires it. However, when Mysz holds her chin, she doesn't move a muscle. Even her breathing slows down, but her heart certainly doesn't. As the cotton swab first touches her cheek, she hisses at the sting, fighting against the instinct to pull back.
"Ouchie," she murmurs, barely moving her lips. As he works, she looks off to the side at the wall, but it isn't long before green eyes are looking at him again. It can't be helped, really... he is right there. He is so sweet to me.
Mysz only pauses when she hisses, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gives the sting a moment to subside, mumbling a little "Przepraszam" to Kalina before he continues to clean the wound. It's almost fascinating to see her so still.
He knows she's looking at him; he can almost feel her gaze. He doesn't mind though, if only because it's her — where else is she meant to look anyway? They are rather close together at the moment.
Another thing Kalina notices with Mysz is that the silence is never awkward. Usually, the need to fill it with something is strong: jokes, observations, anything for it not to be quiet for longer than five seconds. She's... comfortable, just sitting like this. Watching him take such gentle care of her cheek.
As he finishes up, though, she can't help but chuckle softly. "What do you think, doctor? Will I still get to have my pretty face once this heals?"
Mysz can't help but smile when Kalina calls him 'doctor', amused by the accuracy, even if she doesn't know.
"I don't think anything could make you any less pretty," he responds before he can think about the words that leave his mouth, trying to remain as casual as possible when he notices.
Letting go of her cheek, he takes one more look at her before leaning back in his chair, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that shoots up his back.
The thing is, Kalina knows she's pretty. Not in a vain kind of way, but... she's had to use certain assets to carry out missions before, and she likes the way she looks. But hearing Mysz say such a thing hits her in a way she isn't expecting. Her cheeks feel warm, her pulse is a bit erratic. Well, this is... huh.
She just looks at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to solve when she hears the groan, and her brain quickly shifts gears. "Oh, kochanie, is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" He helped her, so it's the least she can do... whatever that may be.
Mysz hesitates for a moment when Kalina asks if there's anything she can do, mainly because the only thing he can think of seems just a little awkward. However, the pain isn't subsiding, it's getting worse, so he has to ask.
"Are your hands warm?" he asks, a kind of plead in his eyes — he's in so much pain.
Kalina doesn't hesitate to answer with a nod, already moving to pull off her gloves. While all she could really focus on was the fact that Mysz was touching her face, she still felt how cold his hands were. And with those sad puppy eyes of his, she's nearly ripping the gloves apart.
"Oh, yes! Always, see?" Setting her gloves on his desk, she takes one of his hands in both of her own. The contrast is staggering between the temperature of their hands as she gently squeezes.
Mysz can't help but smile, strained as the expression is, at how warm Kalina's hands are — just when he thought she couldn't be any more perfect. Though the smile is quickly wiped off his face by another sudden jolt of pain up his back. Ow.
"Could you put your hand on my lower back please?" he manages to ask through gritted teeth, trying not to squeeze her hand too tight. "You'll know the spot when you find it — 's sorta raised."
Kalina has questions about why part of his back is raised, but that can certainly wait. If she asks at all. Right now, her focus is on helping him find some relief. She nods once, determined, like he just gave her an important mission objective. "Of course. Let me see."
While he maneuvers however he needs to, she quickly rubs her hands together, even though they are already quite warm. It's for good measure. Starting at about the middle of his back, she moves down until... oh. He wasn't exaggerating. "Ohhh, okay. Yes, I found the spot. How is that?"
One day Mysz will explain the extent of all his old injuries to Kalina, a day when he isn't dealing with said injuries. For now he just shuffles forward in his chair so that she can better reach where he needs her hand to be.
When Kalina finds the spot, Mysz lets out a relieved sigh. It's the least pain he's been in all day; it's so nice. Granted, he's still in a lot of pain but it feels... "Better. Thank you."
He could ask her to press down, knowing that pressure helps to alleviate the pain, but there's a sound he makes at that point that he doesn't want anyone hearing.
"Anytime, dear," Kalina murmurs, smiling at him before getting more comfortable in her chair. She's not sure why she does it, and she hopes Mysz doesn't mind, but she finds herself resting her head on his shoulder. If she's going to be here for a bit, she might as well get comfortable, right?
"I am sorry you have to deal with this," she says quietly, slowly moving her hand over the spot on his back. Kalina didn't deal with chronic pain issues. Various injuries, soreness from exertion and pushing herself to the limit, yes. But nothing like this.
Mysz glances at Kalina when her head falls to his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his features, something unequivocally fond, reserved especially for her.
The apology catches him off-guard, but not because it's unexpected, but because it lacks the usual pity people phrase it with, makes it feel that much more genuine, sympathetic.
"...'s fine; I cope." The response is quiet and feels almost inadequate. "D'you have any questions about it?"
"Only the ones I'm sure you're sick of hearing. How did it happen, how long have you had to deal with it..."
Kalina is honestly surprised when Mysz asks if she has any questions. That has to mean he trusts her, right? She hopes it does. Trust can be a rare thing in her line of work... and her personal life. "But only if you want to talk about it, kochanie. No pressure."
Mysz does trust her. It's scary — the last person he properly trusted tried to kill him — but he really does trust Kalina.
"Wouldn't've asked if I didn't wanna answer, love. I got shot about... 4 years ago now? Bullet hit one of my vertebrae and my back's been awful ever since." He explains it so casually, as if it's a normal thing to have happen. "Then there's my shoulder, dislocated that a few times back when I worked in security, now it's permanently screwed, same thing with my knee, but those are older injuries — 6 years or so."
Kalina quietly listens to Mysz as he speaks, her hand continuing the slow and soothing circles along his back. "Wielkie nieba," she mutters. She hadn't realized he had been in such dangerous situations before he began working here. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she has to shift a bit.
It also makes her realize just how lucky she's been up to this point.
"Do you like what you do now?" She asks genuinely, tilting her head just enough so she can see his face while keeping it on his shoulder. "I mean, besides how frustrating certain people and things can be. Are you happy here?"
He notices Kalina shifting beside him, putting it down to discomfort, or perhaps even worry. Whatever she shifts out of, it makes his heart feel weird, something like guilt welling up in his chest.
"Honestly? Best job I've bad so far. Makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing, helping people," he mutters. "Put me back in a good headspace after the injury, being here."
"That's really good. I'm glad." The words are standard enough, but Kalina means them with her entire heart. If she were to make a list of the things that she likes about this job, 'working with Mysz' would be on it. Near the top, even. With a little smiley face doodle next to it for good measure.
"You're also really good at it too, you know? Whenever I know you're going to be the little ptaszyna in my ear, I'm like 'oh this is going to be easy peasy because my best buddy's got my back.'
Oh.
For some reason, Kalina's heartfelt compliment makes Mysz's heart all fluttery and warm and oh god, he's in love. The realisation suddenly hits him, despite having felt this way about her for a while — he'd forgotten the exact name for the feeling.
"I–..." Mysz trails off for a moment, trying to silence the alarm bells in his brain. I love you. "I'm glad you think so. I like working with you."
If Kalina's smile could light up a room, it would be right now, and she would have to fight to keep her mouth closed so she didn't make Mysz' headache worse.
"Really?" Her head lifts up, and her other hand falls on his knee without much thought as she looks at him. She had been worried about the silence of the moment, only because she was worried about his reaction when she called him her best buddy. "I like working with you, too, Mysz."
Now it's her turn to pause, and it feels like there are hummingbirds fighting in her stomach. Bigger than butterflies, surely. "I like you."
Reel it in, Wilson; you'll scare her off.
Mysz unintentionally flinches when Kalina puts her hand on his knee, the gesture so sudden that it startled him, but he doesn't move her hand.
There are enough butterflies in his stomach to power his entire computer setup and his heart is in his throat as he looks into Kalina's eyes. Don't say it, Wilson.
"I've always liked you."
Always. Always. The word rattles around in Kalina's brain. No one always likes her. She's too chatty, too blunt, too... much. But hearing Mysz say it so plainly, she can't do anything but believe him.
But she needs to be careful. Reading too much into this will only cause pain, and she doesn't know if she would survive that from him.
"Always, huh?" She goes for confidence and stumbles, humming and looking to the side. "That's... the first time I've ever heard that."
"It shouldn't be," he mumbles, leaning forward a little to rest his forehead on her shoulder — it feels daunting to look at her right now — with a quiet hum. "You're sweet n' fun n' honest; it's impossible not to like you."
At the risk of feeling selfish, he really hopes Kalina is reading into this a little, because as much as he's scared to consider it he wants her to reciprocate.
Kalina's gaze moves back to Mysz when she feels his forehead rest on her shoulder. That paired with the words he says, and it feels like those hummingbirds have migrated into her ribcage where her heart is supposed to be.
In this moment, she realizes that she is terrified. A different kind of fear than what she faces out on missions. It's the fear of someone getting close enough to possibly hurt her, and she doesn't mean physically. And while she can't even imagine Mysz doing such a thing intentionally... it's still scary.
Taking a deep breath, her free hand slowly reaches up to run over his head, hoping he doesn't notice the way it trembles. "I know some who would disagree," she responds with a chuckle tinged with self-deprecation. "I also think you are sweet... yet you still don't sugarcoat shit. A good balance."
Mysz hears the self-deprecation in Kalina's chuckle and it makes him so fucking sad. If he could find the words, he'd describe every single reason why she's like a saint to him, why she's practically perfect.
Then she calls him sweet and his heart skips a beat in a way it hasn't done since... well never, actually. For a moment he thinks he might die.
"Think you're the only person in the world who thinks I'm sweet, love."
"Well, I don't believe that for one second," Kalina responds as she continues running her hand over Mysz' head. There's no way she could be the only person who sees what she does. But the thought of him thinking so only makes her more determined.
"You make me feel... good. Like... I can be myself, and it's okay." It's a simple but raw truth, hinting at something deeper that she won't look at directly in this moment. "So if by some oddity I am the only one... thank you." Closing the short distance, she places a chaste kiss on top of his head.
Mysz has never felt so emotionally compromised before this point, when Kalina thanks him for making her feel comfortable with him, a lump forming in his throat as he wills himself not to blurt out something stupid.
But then she kisses him — just a small kiss on the head — and every wall he has put up crumbles all at once and he freezes, his entire mind on pause as he processes the action.
Then he starts crying. As in sobbing. It's not particularly loud but it's not silent either.
He hasn't cried in years.
Oh no. Oh no.
Crying is... usually not a good thing, right? Kalina can't even remember the last time she cried, and she's absolute shit at comforting people. But knowing she possibly upset Mysz in some way makes it feel like her chest has been ripped open.
"Oh gosh. Oh goodness, *kochanie, bardzo mi przykro,*" she rushes out, carefully moving so she can wrap her arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you!"
Mysz wraps his arms around her firmly, his face against her shoulder as he sniffles quietly between sobs. Now that he's started, he can't seem to stop crying.
"'M not–" he cuts himself off with a sniffle. "'M not upset, promise." He isn't sure what he's feeling but he's almost 100% sure that it's not negative. Emotions are difficult.
While Kalina believes that Mysz wouldn't lie to her, she still feels bad somehow. But she pushes that away, turning her focus to the man she cares about that's clinging to her like a lifesaver in a restless sea.
"Okay," she murmurs against the side of his head as she holds him. One hand continues to move along the sore spot of his back, while the other gently cradles the back of his head. "I've got you, Mysz. Promise."
The way Kalina cradles him so carefully, like something to be cherished, makes Mysz cry just a little harder, no longer able to speak through his tears, only able to hold her for a while. A few minutes pass before he says anything else.
"Jesteś dla mnie... bardzo ważny, ukochany.." he mutters. "...jesteś dla mnie wszystkim."
Kalina continues to hold Mysz, more than happy to be there for him to lean on. Such strong emotions would usually make her want to run, but with him... it doesn't even cross her mind. She could never do that to him. And when he speaks again...
You are everything to me.
She blinks, thinking she misheard him at first. Surely he's just emotional, overwhelmed? Unless... this is why he is that way in the first place.
She tenses before relaxing again, trembling because she's fucking terrified, but it doesn't stop her from holding him as close as possible. "Mysz..." It's barely a whisper against his hair before her eyes close. "Jesteś dla mnie całym światem, kochanie."
When he feels Kalina tense up, there is a moment where he is so scared. Scared that he overstepped, that he'd said too much to soon, that she's upset. But then she says he means the world to her and he has to shift to look her in the eye, his own a little puffy from the crying but that doesn't stop him from looking at her so reverently.
"You're perfect, ukochany."
Kalina's eyes begin to burn, and it takes her a few seconds to realize that it's because she may also start crying. They gloss over as he looks at her and calls her perfect, looking at her like he believes it with his whole heart.
"No one is perfect," she responds softly, immediately sighing. Why can't I just take the compliment? She moves her hand from his back, only so she can gently swipe a tear away from his cheek. "But that you think so... I'm honored."
Kalina is... pouty. Although, if anyone ever said she was, she would threaten to punch them.
She is just leaving Jackson's office in a huff, trying very hard not to slam the door because she is a kind and considerate person. Unlike some people. Apparently, someone overheard her giving Murdock a piece of her mind and decided to snitch about it. What is this, high school?
Without really paying attention, she finds herself heading to the intelligence wing where the majority of the handlers work. Heading to someone in particular, who may be one of the only people she can handle being around when she's grumpy. Hopefully, he's not too grumpy, also.
It's okay if he is, though. She likes him.
She knocks on the door because, again, she is considerate. "Mysz? May I come in?"
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz hasn't been having a good day.
Every couple of hours, he's been getting this awful pain in his back and leg and when the pain isn't unbearable, it still feels like someone is standing on his older injuries. So, naturally, nobody has been allowed to talk to him today, not even Jackson, lest they risk being told to fuck off.
But Kalina... Well, Kalina is a special case — he likes her too much to not let her in.
"Mhm."
Kalina is already talking, even though she only has one foot in the door. And while she is clearly annoyed and upset, her voice is soft. Because yes, she is considerate to people who deserve it. The last thing she wants is to make a potential headache worse when it's Mysz.
"Oh, you will not believe... Baran had the nerve to tell me that Murdock didn't deserve to be called out on his bullshit. Pompatyczny mały człowieczek that he is, anyway. He already thinks he runs the place, with the way he..."
She trails off when she gets a proper look at Mysz, and it's dizzying how quickly she can switch gears. "Mysz, kochanie, you look terrible! What can I do?"
While Kalina is right — Mysz does have a pounding headache, hence his office being so dark — but she isn't making it worse. No, in fact he wants her to keep talking; her voice is doing wonders for his headache right now.
Leaning back in his chair, he glances over at her, not surprised that she's mad at Murdock (the guy's annoying, everyone wants him out) but Jackson saying that Kalina shouldn't have called him out? That's absurd, to be honest.
"'M fine, love. Come sit down," he says quietly, pulling out a little wheely chair that he bought specifically for Kalina when ever she comes into his office. "Keep talking, y'know I like your voice."
"Okay, if you're sure." It doesn't take much convincing from Kalina. She's positive that if Mysz didn't want company, he would say so. Walking over to the chair he pulls out, she sits down, back straight and hands in her lap. She's still in her stealth gear, and there's a scrape across her right cheek, barely back from her latest op. Maybe a couple of hours? She didn't keep track.
"So I was debriefing Baran, yeah? And I thought we were done, but before I leave, he starts talking about Murdock and how I should 'ease up' on him. You know he called Merrie's sweet szczeniak a mutt? Kretyn... anyway, what about his self-importance and cockiness, huh? He struts around like he's better than everyone else, and he's just... infuriating."
She blows some hair out of her face and takes a breath like she hadn't the entire time. Even as she gestures with her hands in clear annoyance, her voice never deviates from the soft pitch. "Okay... I feel a bit better now."
Mysz already doesn't like Murdock — he always got a weird vibe from the guy, though they hardly interact outside of missions — but calling Atlas a mutt? He's not about to let that slide; he's been here long enough to know that Atlas is one of the best dogs in the world, smart and a thousand times more considerate than many grown men.
"Might have a word with the kretyn later," he mumbles, his tone pretty flat but that's just because he's tired. "Knock him off his high horse." Or down a flight of stairs, whichever's better. He puts that thought aside for now though, more focused on the still-bleeding scrape on her cheek.
Once Kalina says she feels a bit better, Mysz nods. "Good. Can I have a look at your cheek?"
"Oh, I wouldn't waste your breath on him," Kalina responds, waving a gloved hand dismissively while rolling her eyes. "You'd have better luck talking sense into a brick wall, and the conversation would be more interesting, too."
She lets out a soft sigh, about to steer the conversation to something more pleasant when Mysz asks his question. Tilting her head, she furrows her brow and reaches up to her face. "Huh? My cheek? Oh, that. Yeah, some pierdoła managed to pin me against a brick wall, but I broke his leg."
Her smile turns sweet, one reserved for Mysz and... well, him mostly, now that she thinks about it. "If it will make you feel better, dear."
Mysz shrugs when Kalina equates Murdock to a brick wall. Stairs it is then.
As Kalina explains how she managed to sustain the injury, Mysz gets the little first aid kit from the drawer in his desk, humming quietly in acknowledgement of the retaliation. This is why he tries not to worry too much about her — she can handle herself — but he can't help the way his blood boils whenever she comes back from an op hurt, no matter how superficial the wound is. He doesn't like seeing her harmed.
"Marginally," is his response to whether it would make him feel better to take care of her, though what he means is that it would make him feel way better, at least mentally.
He takes out a cotton swab, dips it in the rather strong disinfectant from the first aid kit, and carefully begins to clean the scrape, gently holding Kalina'a chin to keep her in place.
Kalina is awful at staying still most of the time, at least when she isn't on a mission that requires it. However, when Mysz holds her chin, she doesn't move a muscle. Even her breathing slows down, but her heart certainly doesn't. As the cotton swab first touches her cheek, she hisses at the sting, fighting against the instinct to pull back.
"Ouchie," she murmurs, barely moving her lips. As he works, she looks off to the side at the wall, but it isn't long before green eyes are looking at him again. It can't be helped, really... he is right there. He is so sweet to me.
Mysz only pauses when she hisses, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gives the sting a moment to subside, mumbling a little "Przepraszam" to Kalina before he continues to clean the wound. It's almost fascinating to see her so still.
He knows she's looking at him; he can almost feel her gaze. He doesn't mind though, if only because it's her — where else is she meant to look anyway? They are rather close together at the moment.
Another thing Kalina notices with Mysz is that the silence is never awkward. Usually, the need to fill it with something is strong: jokes, observations, anything for it not to be quiet for longer than five seconds. She's... comfortable, just sitting like this. Watching him take such gentle care of her cheek.
As he finishes up, though, she can't help but chuckle softly. "What do you think, doctor? Will I still get to have my pretty face once this heals?"
Mysz can't help but smile when Kalina calls him 'doctor', amused by the accuracy, even if she doesn't know.
"I don't think anything could make you any less pretty," he responds before he can think about the words that leave his mouth, trying to remain as casual as possible when he notices.
Letting go of her cheek, he takes one more look at her before leaning back in his chair, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that shoots up his back.
The thing is, Kalina knows she's pretty. Not in a vain kind of way, but... she's had to use certain assets to carry out missions before, and she likes the way she looks. But hearing Mysz say such a thing hits her in a way she isn't expecting. Her cheeks feel warm, her pulse is a bit erratic. Well, this is... huh.
She just looks at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to solve when she hears the groan, and her brain quickly shifts gears. "Oh, kochanie, is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" He helped her, so it's the least she can do... whatever that may be.
Mysz hesitates for a moment when Kalina asks if there's anything she can do, mainly because the only thing he can think of seems just a little awkward. However, the pain isn't subsiding, it's getting worse, so he has to ask.
"Are your hands warm?" he asks, a kind of plead in his eyes — he's in so much pain.
Kalina doesn't hesitate to answer with a nod, already moving to pull off her gloves. While all she could really focus on was the fact that Mysz was touching her face, she still felt how cold his hands were. And with those sad puppy eyes of his, she's nearly ripping the gloves apart.
"Oh, yes! Always, see?" Setting her gloves on his desk, she takes one of his hands in both of her own. The contrast is staggering between the temperature of their hands as she gently squeezes.
Mysz can't help but smile, strained as the expression is, at how warm Kalina's hands are — just when he thought she couldn't be any more perfect. Though the smile is quickly wiped off his face by another sudden jolt of pain up his back. Ow.
"Could you put your hand on my lower back please?" he manages to ask through gritted teeth, trying not to squeeze her hand too tight. "You'll know the spot when you find it — 's sorta raised."
Kalina has questions about why part of his back is raised, but that can certainly wait. If she asks at all. Right now, her focus is on helping him find some relief. She nods once, determined, like he just gave her an important mission objective. "Of course. Let me see."
While he maneuvers however he needs to, she quickly rubs her hands together, even though they are already quite warm. It's for good measure. Starting at about the middle of his back, she moves down until... oh. He wasn't exaggerating. "Ohhh, okay. Yes, I found the spot. How is that?"
One day Mysz will explain the extent of all his old injuries to Kalina, a day when he isn't dealing with said injuries. For now he just shuffles forward in his chair so that she can better reach where he needs her hand to be.
When Kalina finds the spot, Mysz lets out a relieved sigh. It's the least pain he's been in all day; it's so nice. Granted, he's still in a lot of pain but it feels... "Better. Thank you."
He could ask her to press down, knowing that pressure helps to alleviate the pain, but there's a sound he makes at that point that he doesn't want anyone hearing.
"Anytime, dear," Kalina murmurs, smiling at him before getting more comfortable in her chair. She's not sure why she does it, and she hopes Mysz doesn't mind, but she finds herself resting her head on his shoulder. If she's going to be here for a bit, she might as well get comfortable, right?
"I am sorry you have to deal with this," she says quietly, slowly moving her hand over the spot on his back. Kalina didn't deal with chronic pain issues. Various injuries, soreness from exertion and pushing herself to the limit, yes. But nothing like this.
Mysz glances at Kalina when her head falls to his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his features, something unequivocally fond, reserved especially for her.
The apology catches him off-guard, but not because it's unexpected, but because it lacks the usual pity people phrase it with, makes it feel that much more genuine, sympathetic.
"...'s fine; I cope." The response is quiet and feels almost inadequate. "D'you have any questions about it?"
"Only the ones I'm sure you're sick of hearing. How did it happen, how long have you had to deal with it..."
Kalina is honestly surprised when Mysz asks if she has any questions. That has to mean he trusts her, right? She hopes it does. Trust can be a rare thing in her line of work... and her personal life. "But only if you want to talk about it, kochanie. No pressure."
Mysz does trust her. It's scary — the last person he properly trusted tried to kill him — but he really does trust Kalina.
"Wouldn't've asked if I didn't wanna answer, love. I got shot about... 4 years ago now? Bullet hit one of my vertebrae and my back's been awful ever since." He explains it so casually, as if it's a normal thing to have happen. "Then there's my shoulder, dislocated that a few times back when I worked in security, now it's permanently screwed, same thing with my knee, but those are older injuries — 6 years or so."
Kalina quietly listens to Mysz as he speaks, her hand continuing the slow and soothing circles along his back. "Wielkie nieba," she mutters. She hadn't realized he had been in such dangerous situations before he began working here. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she has to shift a bit.
It also makes her realize just how lucky she's been up to this point.
"Do you like what you do now?" She asks genuinely, tilting her head just enough so she can see his face while keeping it on his shoulder. "I mean, besides how frustrating certain people and things can be. Are you happy here?"
He notices Kalina shifting beside him, putting it down to discomfort, or perhaps even worry. Whatever she shifts out of, it makes his heart feel weird, something like guilt welling up in his chest.
"Honestly? Best job I've bad so far. Makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing, helping people," he mutters. "Put me back in a good headspace after the injury, being here."
"That's really good. I'm glad." The words are standard enough, but Kalina means them with her entire heart. If she were to make a list of the things that she likes about this job, 'working with Mysz' would be on it. Near the top, even. With a little smiley face doodle next to it for good measure.
"You're also really good at it too, you know? Whenever I know you're going to be the little ptaszyna in my ear, I'm like 'oh this is going to be easy peasy because my best buddy's got my back.'
Oh.
For some reason, Kalina's heartfelt compliment makes Mysz's heart all fluttery and warm and oh god, he's in love. The realisation suddenly hits him, despite having felt this way about her for a while — he'd forgotten the exact name for the feeling.
"I–..." Mysz trails off for a moment, trying to silence the alarm bells in his brain. I love you. "I'm glad you think so. I like working with you."
If Kalina's smile could light up a room, it would be right now, and she would have to fight to keep her mouth closed so she didn't make Mysz' headache worse.
"Really?" Her head lifts up, and her other hand falls on his knee without much thought as she looks at him. She had been worried about the silence of the moment, only because she was worried about his reaction when she called him her best buddy. "I like working with you, too, Mysz."
Now it's her turn to pause, and it feels like there are hummingbirds fighting in her stomach. Bigger than butterflies, surely. "I like you."
Reel it in, Wilson; you'll scare her off.
Mysz unintentionally flinches when Kalina puts her hand on his knee, the gesture so sudden that it startled him, but he doesn't move her hand.
There are enough butterflies in his stomach to power his entire computer setup and his heart is in his throat as he looks into Kalina's eyes. Don't say it, Wilson.
"I've always liked you."
Always. Always. The word rattles around in Kalina's brain. No one always likes her. She's too chatty, too blunt, too... much. But hearing Mysz say it so plainly, she can't do anything but believe him.
But she needs to be careful. Reading too much into this will only cause pain, and she doesn't know if she would survive that from him.
"Always, huh?" She goes for confidence and stumbles, humming and looking to the side. "That's... the first time I've ever heard that."
"It shouldn't be," he mumbles, leaning forward a little to rest his forehead on her shoulder — it feels daunting to look at her right now — with a quiet hum. "You're sweet n' fun n' honest; it's impossible not to like you."
At the risk of feeling selfish, he really hopes Kalina is reading into this a little, because as much as he's scared to consider it he wants her to reciprocate.
Kalina's gaze moves back to Mysz when she feels his forehead rest on her shoulder. That paired with the words he says, and it feels like those hummingbirds have migrated into her ribcage where her heart is supposed to be.
In this moment, she realizes that she is terrified. A different kind of fear than what she faces out on missions. It's the fear of someone getting close enough to possibly hurt her, and she doesn't mean physically. And while she can't even imagine Mysz doing such a thing intentionally... it's still scary.
Taking a deep breath, her free hand slowly reaches up to run over his head, hoping he doesn't notice the way it trembles. "I know some who would disagree," she responds with a chuckle tinged with self-deprecation. "I also think you are sweet... yet you still don't sugarcoat shit. A good balance."
Mysz hears the self-deprecation in Kalina's chuckle and it makes him so fucking sad. If he could find the words, he'd describe every single reason why she's like a saint to him, why she's practically perfect.
Then she calls him sweet and his heart skips a beat in a way it hasn't done since... well never, actually. For a moment he thinks he might die.
"Think you're the only person in the world who thinks I'm sweet, love."
"Well, I don't believe that for one second," Kalina responds as she continues running her hand over Mysz' head. There's no way she could be the only person who sees what she does. But the thought of him thinking so only makes her more determined.
"You make me feel... good. Like... I can be myself, and it's okay." It's a simple but raw truth, hinting at something deeper that she won't look at directly in this moment. "So if by some oddity I am the only one... thank you." Closing the short distance, she places a chaste kiss on top of his head.
Mysz has never felt so emotionally compromised before this point, when Kalina thanks him for making her feel comfortable with him, a lump forming in his throat as he wills himself not to blurt out something stupid.
But then she kisses him — just a small kiss on the head — and every wall he has put up crumbles all at once and he freezes, his entire mind on pause as he processes the action.
Then he starts crying. As in sobbing. It's not particularly loud but it's not silent either.
He hasn't cried in years.
Oh no. Oh no.
Crying is... usually not a good thing, right? Kalina can't even remember the last time she cried, and she's absolute shit at comforting people. But knowing she possibly upset Mysz in some way makes it feel like her chest has been ripped open.
"Oh gosh. Oh goodness, *kochanie, bardzo mi przykro,*" she rushes out, carefully moving so she can wrap her arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you!"
Mysz wraps his arms around her firmly, his face against her shoulder as he sniffles quietly between sobs. Now that he's started, he can't seem to stop crying.
"'M not–" he cuts himself off with a sniffle. "'M not upset, promise." He isn't sure what he's feeling but he's almost 100% sure that it's not negative. Emotions are difficult.
While Kalina believes that Mysz wouldn't lie to her, she still feels bad somehow. But she pushes that away, turning her focus to the man she cares about that's clinging to her like a lifesaver in a restless sea.
"Okay," she murmurs against the side of his head as she holds him. One hand continues to move along the sore spot of his back, while the other gently cradles the back of his head. "I've got you, Mysz. Promise."
The way Kalina cradles him so carefully, like something to be cherished, makes Mysz cry just a little harder, no longer able to speak through his tears, only able to hold her for a while. A few minutes pass before he says anything else.
"Jesteś dla mnie... bardzo ważny, ukochany.." he mutters. "...jesteś dla mnie wszystkim."
Kalina continues to hold Mysz, more than happy to be there for him to lean on. Such strong emotions would usually make her want to run, but with him... it doesn't even cross her mind. She could never do that to him. And when he speaks again...
You are everything to me.
She blinks, thinking she misheard him at first. Surely he's just emotional, overwhelmed? Unless... this is why he is that way in the first place.
She tenses before relaxing again, trembling because she's fucking terrified, but it doesn't stop her from holding him as close as possible. "Mysz..." It's barely a whisper against his hair before her eyes close. "Jesteś dla mnie całym światem, kochanie."
Kalina is... pouty. Although, if anyone ever said she was, she would threaten to punch them.
She is just leaving Jackson's office in a huff, trying very hard not to slam the door because she is a kind and considerate person. Unlike some people. Apparently, someone overheard her giving Murdock a piece of her mind and decided to snitch about it. What is this, high school?
Without really paying attention, she finds herself heading to the intelligence wing where the majority of the handlers work. Heading to someone in particular, who may be one of the only people she can handle being around when she's grumpy. Hopefully, he's not too grumpy, also.
It's okay if he is, though. She likes him.
She knocks on the door because, again, she is considerate. "Mysz? May I come in?"
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz hasn't been having a good day.
Every couple of hours, he's been getting this awful pain in his back and leg and when the pain isn't unbearable, it still feels like someone is standing on his older injuries. So, naturally, nobody has been allowed to talk to him today, not even Jackson, lest they risk being told to fuck off.
But Kalina... Well, Kalina is a special case — he likes her too much to not let her in.
"Mhm."
Kalina is already talking, even though she only has one foot in the door. And while she is clearly annoyed and upset, her voice is soft. Because yes, she is considerate to people who deserve it. The last thing she wants is to make a potential headache worse when it's Mysz.
"Oh, you will not believe... Baran had the nerve to tell me that Murdock didn't deserve to be called out on his bullshit. Pompatyczny mały człowieczek that he is, anyway. He already thinks he runs the place, with the way he..."
She trails off when she gets a proper look at Mysz, and it's dizzying how quickly she can switch gears. "Mysz, kochanie, you look terrible! What can I do?"
While Kalina is right — Mysz does have a pounding headache, hence his office being so dark — but she isn't making it worse. No, in fact he wants her to keep talking; her voice is doing wonders for his headache right now.
Leaning back in his chair, he glances over at her, not surprised that she's mad at Murdock (the guy's annoying, everyone wants him out) but Jackson saying that Kalina shouldn't have called him out? That's absurd, to be honest.
"'M fine, love. Come sit down," he says quietly, pulling out a little wheely chair that he bought specifically for Kalina when ever she comes into his office. "Keep talking, y'know I like your voice."
"Okay, if you're sure." It doesn't take much convincing from Kalina. She's positive that if Mysz didn't want company, he would say so. Walking over to the chair he pulls out, she sits down, back straight and hands in her lap. She's still in her stealth gear, and there's a scrape across her right cheek, barely back from her latest op. Maybe a couple of hours? She didn't keep track.
"So I was debriefing Baran, yeah? And I thought we were done, but before I leave, he starts talking about Murdock and how I should 'ease up' on him. You know he called Merrie's sweet szczeniak a mutt? Kretyn... anyway, what about his self-importance and cockiness, huh? He struts around like he's better than everyone else, and he's just... infuriating."
She blows some hair out of her face and takes a breath like she hadn't the entire time. Even as she gestures with her hands in clear annoyance, her voice never deviates from the soft pitch. "Okay... I feel a bit better now."
Mysz already doesn't like Murdock — he always got a weird vibe from the guy, though they hardly interact outside of missions — but calling Atlas a mutt? He's not about to let that slide; he's been here long enough to know that Atlas is one of the best dogs in the world, smart and a thousand times more considerate than many grown men.
"Might have a word with the kretyn later," he mumbles, his tone pretty flat but that's just because he's tired. "Knock him off his high horse." Or down a flight of stairs, whichever's better. He puts that thought aside for now though, more focused on the still-bleeding scrape on her cheek.
Once Kalina says she feels a bit better, Mysz nods. "Good. Can I have a look at your cheek?"
"Oh, I wouldn't waste your breath on him," Kalina responds, waving a gloved hand dismissively while rolling her eyes. "You'd have better luck talking sense into a brick wall, and the conversation would be more interesting, too."
She lets out a soft sigh, about to steer the conversation to something more pleasant when Mysz asks his question. Tilting her head, she furrows her brow and reaches up to her face. "Huh? My cheek? Oh, that. Yeah, some pierdoła managed to pin me against a brick wall, but I broke his leg."
Her smile turns sweet, one reserved for Mysz and... well, him mostly, now that she thinks about it. "If it will make you feel better, dear."
Mysz shrugs when Kalina equates Murdock to a brick wall. Stairs it is then.
As Kalina explains how she managed to sustain the injury, Mysz gets the little first aid kit from the drawer in his desk, humming quietly in acknowledgement of the retaliation. This is why he tries not to worry too much about her — she can handle herself — but he can't help the way his blood boils whenever she comes back from an op hurt, no matter how superficial the wound is. He doesn't like seeing her harmed.
"Marginally," is his response to whether it would make him feel better to take care of her, though what he means is that it would make him feel way better, at least mentally.
He takes out a cotton swab, dips it in the rather strong disinfectant from the first aid kit, and carefully begins to clean the scrape, gently holding Kalina'a chin to keep her in place.
Kalina is awful at staying still most of the time, at least when she isn't on a mission that requires it. However, when Mysz holds her chin, she doesn't move a muscle. Even her breathing slows down, but her heart certainly doesn't. As the cotton swab first touches her cheek, she hisses at the sting, fighting against the instinct to pull back.
"Ouchie," she murmurs, barely moving her lips. As he works, she looks off to the side at the wall, but it isn't long before green eyes are looking at him again. It can't be helped, really... he is right there. He is so sweet to me.
Mysz only pauses when she hisses, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gives the sting a moment to subside, mumbling a little "Przepraszam" to Kalina before he continues to clean the wound. It's almost fascinating to see her so still.
He knows she's looking at him; he can almost feel her gaze. He doesn't mind though, if only because it's her — where else is she meant to look anyway? They are rather close together at the moment.
Another thing Kalina notices with Mysz is that the silence is never awkward. Usually, the need to fill it with something is strong: jokes, observations, anything for it not to be quiet for longer than five seconds. She's... comfortable, just sitting like this. Watching him take such gentle care of her cheek.
As he finishes up, though, she can't help but chuckle softly. "What do you think, doctor? Will I still get to have my pretty face once this heals?"
Mysz can't help but smile when Kalina calls him 'doctor', amused by the accuracy, even if she doesn't know.
"I don't think anything could make you any less pretty," he responds before he can think about the words that leave his mouth, trying to remain as casual as possible when he notices.
Letting go of her cheek, he takes one more look at her before leaning back in his chair, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that shoots up his back.
The thing is, Kalina knows she's pretty. Not in a vain kind of way, but... she's had to use certain assets to carry out missions before, and she likes the way she looks. But hearing Mysz say such a thing hits her in a way she isn't expecting. Her cheeks feel warm, her pulse is a bit erratic. Well, this is... huh.
She just looks at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to solve when she hears the groan, and her brain quickly shifts gears. "Oh, kochanie, is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" He helped her, so it's the least she can do... whatever that may be.
Mysz hesitates for a moment when Kalina asks if there's anything she can do, mainly because the only thing he can think of seems just a little awkward. However, the pain isn't subsiding, it's getting worse, so he has to ask.
"Are your hands warm?" he asks, a kind of plead in his eyes — he's in so much pain.
Kalina doesn't hesitate to answer with a nod, already moving to pull off her gloves. While all she could really focus on was the fact that Mysz was touching her face, she still felt how cold his hands were. And with those sad puppy eyes of his, she's nearly ripping the gloves apart.
"Oh, yes! Always, see?" Setting her gloves on his desk, she takes one of his hands in both of her own. The contrast is staggering between the temperature of their hands as she gently squeezes.
Mysz can't help but smile, strained as the expression is, at how warm Kalina's hands are — just when he thought she couldn't be any more perfect. Though the smile is quickly wiped off his face by another sudden jolt of pain up his back. Ow.
"Could you put your hand on my lower back please?" he manages to ask through gritted teeth, trying not to squeeze her hand too tight. "You'll know the spot when you find it — 's sorta raised."
Kalina has questions about why part of his back is raised, but that can certainly wait. If she asks at all. Right now, her focus is on helping him find some relief. She nods once, determined, like he just gave her an important mission objective. "Of course. Let me see."
While he maneuvers however he needs to, she quickly rubs her hands together, even though they are already quite warm. It's for good measure. Starting at about the middle of his back, she moves down until... oh. He wasn't exaggerating. "Ohhh, okay. Yes, I found the spot. How is that?"
One day Mysz will explain the extent of all his old injuries to Kalina, a day when he isn't dealing with said injuries. For now he just shuffles forward in his chair so that she can better reach where he needs her hand to be.
When Kalina finds the spot, Mysz lets out a relieved sigh. It's the least pain he's been in all day; it's so nice. Granted, he's still in a lot of pain but it feels... "Better. Thank you."
He could ask her to press down, knowing that pressure helps to alleviate the pain, but there's a sound he makes at that point that he doesn't want anyone hearing.
"Anytime, dear," Kalina murmurs, smiling at him before getting more comfortable in her chair. She's not sure why she does it, and she hopes Mysz doesn't mind, but she finds herself resting her head on his shoulder. If she's going to be here for a bit, she might as well get comfortable, right?
"I am sorry you have to deal with this," she says quietly, slowly moving her hand over the spot on his back. Kalina didn't deal with chronic pain issues. Various injuries, soreness from exertion and pushing herself to the limit, yes. But nothing like this.
Mysz glances at Kalina when her head falls to his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his features, something unequivocally fond, reserved especially for her.
The apology catches him off-guard, but not because it's unexpected, but because it lacks the usual pity people phrase it with, makes it feel that much more genuine, sympathetic.
"...'s fine; I cope." The response is quiet and feels almost inadequate. "D'you have any questions about it?"
"Only the ones I'm sure you're sick of hearing. How did it happen, how long have you had to deal with it..."
Kalina is honestly surprised when Mysz asks if she has any questions. That has to mean he trusts her, right? She hopes it does. Trust can be a rare thing in her line of work... and her personal life. "But only if you want to talk about it, kochanie. No pressure."
Mysz does trust her. It's scary — the last person he properly trusted tried to kill him — but he really does trust Kalina.
"Wouldn't've asked if I didn't wanna answer, love. I got shot about... 4 years ago now? Bullet hit one of my vertebrae and my back's been awful ever since." He explains it so casually, as if it's a normal thing to have happen. "Then there's my shoulder, dislocated that a few times back when I worked in security, now it's permanently screwed, same thing with my knee, but those are older injuries — 6 years or so."
Kalina quietly listens to Mysz as he speaks, her hand continuing the slow and soothing circles along his back. "Wielkie nieba," she mutters. She hadn't realized he had been in such dangerous situations before he began working here. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she has to shift a bit.
It also makes her realize just how lucky she's been up to this point.
"Do you like what you do now?" She asks genuinely, tilting her head just enough so she can see his face while keeping it on his shoulder. "I mean, besides how frustrating certain people and things can be. Are you happy here?"
He notices Kalina shifting beside him, putting it down to discomfort, or perhaps even worry. Whatever she shifts out of, it makes his heart feel weird, something like guilt welling up in his chest.
"Honestly? Best job I've bad so far. Makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing, helping people," he mutters. "Put me back in a good headspace after the injury, being here."
"That's really good. I'm glad." The words are standard enough, but Kalina means them with her entire heart. If she were to make a list of the things that she likes about this job, 'working with Mysz' would be on it. Near the top, even. With a little smiley face doodle next to it for good measure.
"You're also really good at it too, you know? Whenever I know you're going to be the little ptaszyna in my ear, I'm like 'oh this is going to be easy peasy because my best buddy's got my back.'
Oh.
For some reason, Kalina's heartfelt compliment makes Mysz's heart all fluttery and warm and oh god, he's in love. The realisation suddenly hits him, despite having felt this way about her for a while — he'd forgotten the exact name for the feeling.
"I–..." Mysz trails off for a moment, trying to silence the alarm bells in his brain. I love you. "I'm glad you think so. I like working with you."
If Kalina's smile could light up a room, it would be right now, and she would have to fight to keep her mouth closed so she didn't make Mysz' headache worse.
"Really?" Her head lifts up, and her other hand falls on his knee without much thought as she looks at him. She had been worried about the silence of the moment, only because she was worried about his reaction when she called him her best buddy. "I like working with you, too, Mysz."
Now it's her turn to pause, and it feels like there are hummingbirds fighting in her stomach. Bigger than butterflies, surely. "I like you."
Reel it in, Wilson; you'll scare her off.
Mysz unintentionally flinches when Kalina puts her hand on his knee, the gesture so sudden that it startled him, but he doesn't move her hand.
There are enough butterflies in his stomach to power his entire computer setup and his heart is in his throat as he looks into Kalina's eyes. Don't say it, Wilson.
"I've always liked you."
Always. Always. The word rattles around in Kalina's brain. No one always likes her. She's too chatty, too blunt, too... much. But hearing Mysz say it so plainly, she can't do anything but believe him.
But she needs to be careful. Reading too much into this will only cause pain, and she doesn't know if she would survive that from him.
"Always, huh?" She goes for confidence and stumbles, humming and looking to the side. "That's... the first time I've ever heard that."
"It shouldn't be," he mumbles, leaning forward a little to rest his forehead on her shoulder — it feels daunting to look at her right now — with a quiet hum. "You're sweet n' fun n' honest; it's impossible not to like you."
At the risk of feeling selfish, he really hopes Kalina is reading into this a little, because as much as he's scared to consider it he wants her to reciprocate.
Kalina's gaze moves back to Mysz when she feels his forehead rest on her shoulder. That paired with the words he says, and it feels like those hummingbirds have migrated into her ribcage where her heart is supposed to be.
In this moment, she realizes that she is terrified. A different kind of fear than what she faces out on missions. It's the fear of someone getting close enough to possibly hurt her, and she doesn't mean physically. And while she can't even imagine Mysz doing such a thing intentionally... it's still scary.
Taking a deep breath, her free hand slowly reaches up to run over his head, hoping he doesn't notice the way it trembles. "I know some who would disagree," she responds with a chuckle tinged with self-deprecation. "I also think you are sweet... yet you still don't sugarcoat shit. A good balance."
Mysz hears the self-deprecation in Kalina's chuckle and it makes him so fucking sad. If he could find the words, he'd describe every single reason why she's like a saint to him, why she's practically perfect.
Then she calls him sweet and his heart skips a beat in a way it hasn't done since... well never, actually. For a moment he thinks he might die.
"Think you're the only person in the world who thinks I'm sweet, love."
"Well, I don't believe that for one second," Kalina responds as she continues running her hand over Mysz' head. There's no way she could be the only person who sees what she does. But the thought of him thinking so only makes her more determined.
"You make me feel... good. Like... I can be myself, and it's okay." It's a simple but raw truth, hinting at something deeper that she won't look at directly in this moment. "So if by some oddity I am the only one... thank you." Closing the short distance, she places a chaste kiss on top of his head.
Mysz has never felt so emotionally compromised before this point, when Kalina thanks him for making her feel comfortable with him, a lump forming in his throat as he wills himself not to blurt out something stupid.
But then she kisses him — just a small kiss on the head — and every wall he has put up crumbles all at once and he freezes, his entire mind on pause as he processes the action.
Then he starts crying. As in sobbing. It's not particularly loud but it's not silent either.
He hasn't cried in years.
Oh no. Oh no.
Crying is... usually not a good thing, right? Kalina can't even remember the last time she cried, and she's absolute shit at comforting people. But knowing she possibly upset Mysz in some way makes it feel like her chest has been ripped open.
"Oh gosh. Oh goodness, *kochanie, bardzo mi przykro,*" she rushes out, carefully moving so she can wrap her arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you!"
Mysz wraps his arms around her firmly, his face against her shoulder as he sniffles quietly between sobs. Now that he's started, he can't seem to stop crying.
"'M not–" he cuts himself off with a sniffle. "'M not upset, promise." He isn't sure what he's feeling but he's almost 100% sure that it's not negative. Emotions are difficult.
While Kalina believes that Mysz wouldn't lie to her, she still feels bad somehow. But she pushes that away, turning her focus to the man she cares about that's clinging to her like a lifesaver in a restless sea.
"Okay," she murmurs against the side of his head as she holds him. One hand continues to move along the sore spot of his back, while the other gently cradles the back of his head. "I've got you, Mysz. Promise."
Kalina is... pouty. Although, if anyone ever said she was, she would threaten to punch them.
She is just leaving Jackson's office in a huff, trying very hard not to slam the door because she is a kind and considerate person. Unlike some people. Apparently, someone overheard her giving Murdock a piece of her mind and decided to snitch about it. What is this, high school?
Without really paying attention, she finds herself heading to the intelligence wing where the majority of the handlers work. Heading to someone in particular, who may be one of the only people she can handle being around when she's grumpy. Hopefully, he's not too grumpy, also.
It's okay if he is, though. She likes him.
She knocks on the door because, again, she is considerate. "Mysz? May I come in?"
@kalinasyzmanska
Mysz hasn't been having a good day.
Every couple of hours, he's been getting this awful pain in his back and leg and when the pain isn't unbearable, it still feels like someone is standing on his older injuries. So, naturally, nobody has been allowed to talk to him today, not even Jackson, lest they risk being told to fuck off.
But Kalina... Well, Kalina is a special case — he likes her too much to not let her in.
"Mhm."
Kalina is already talking, even though she only has one foot in the door. And while she is clearly annoyed and upset, her voice is soft. Because yes, she is considerate to people who deserve it. The last thing she wants is to make a potential headache worse when it's Mysz.
"Oh, you will not believe... Baran had the nerve to tell me that Murdock didn't deserve to be called out on his bullshit. Pompatyczny mały człowieczek that he is, anyway. He already thinks he runs the place, with the way he..."
She trails off when she gets a proper look at Mysz, and it's dizzying how quickly she can switch gears. "Mysz, kochanie, you look terrible! What can I do?"
While Kalina is right — Mysz does have a pounding headache, hence his office being so dark — but she isn't making it worse. No, in fact he wants her to keep talking; her voice is doing wonders for his headache right now.
Leaning back in his chair, he glances over at her, not surprised that she's mad at Murdock (the guy's annoying, everyone wants him out) but Jackson saying that Kalina shouldn't have called him out? That's absurd, to be honest.
"'M fine, love. Come sit down," he says quietly, pulling out a little wheely chair that he bought specifically for Kalina when ever she comes into his office. "Keep talking, y'know I like your voice."
"Okay, if you're sure." It doesn't take much convincing from Kalina. She's positive that if Mysz didn't want company, he would say so. Walking over to the chair he pulls out, she sits down, back straight and hands in her lap. She's still in her stealth gear, and there's a scrape across her right cheek, barely back from her latest op. Maybe a couple of hours? She didn't keep track.
"So I was debriefing Baran, yeah? And I thought we were done, but before I leave, he starts talking about Murdock and how I should 'ease up' on him. You know he called Merrie's sweet szczeniak a mutt? Kretyn... anyway, what about his self-importance and cockiness, huh? He struts around like he's better than everyone else, and he's just... infuriating."
She blows some hair out of her face and takes a breath like she hadn't the entire time. Even as she gestures with her hands in clear annoyance, her voice never deviates from the soft pitch. "Okay... I feel a bit better now."
Mysz already doesn't like Murdock — he always got a weird vibe from the guy, though they hardly interact outside of missions — but calling Atlas a mutt? He's not about to let that slide; he's been here long enough to know that Atlas is one of the best dogs in the world, smart and a thousand times more considerate than many grown men.
"Might have a word with the kretyn later," he mumbles, his tone pretty flat but that's just because he's tired. "Knock him off his high horse." Or down a flight of stairs, whichever's better. He puts that thought aside for now though, more focused on the still-bleeding scrape on her cheek.
Once Kalina says she feels a bit better, Mysz nods. "Good. Can I have a look at your cheek?"
"Oh, I wouldn't waste your breath on him," Kalina responds, waving a gloved hand dismissively while rolling her eyes. "You'd have better luck talking sense into a brick wall, and the conversation would be more interesting, too."
She lets out a soft sigh, about to steer the conversation to something more pleasant when Mysz asks his question. Tilting her head, she furrows her brow and reaches up to her face. "Huh? My cheek? Oh, that. Yeah, some pierdoła managed to pin me against a brick wall, but I broke his leg."
Her smile turns sweet, one reserved for Mysz and... well, him mostly, now that she thinks about it. "If it will make you feel better, dear."
Mysz shrugs when Kalina equates Murdock to a brick wall. Stairs it is then.
As Kalina explains how she managed to sustain the injury, Mysz gets the little first aid kit from the drawer in his desk, humming quietly in acknowledgement of the retaliation. This is why he tries not to worry too much about her — she can handle herself — but he can't help the way his blood boils whenever she comes back from an op hurt, no matter how superficial the wound is. He doesn't like seeing her harmed.
"Marginally," is his response to whether it would make him feel better to take care of her, though what he means is that it would make him feel way better, at least mentally.
He takes out a cotton swab, dips it in the rather strong disinfectant from the first aid kit, and carefully begins to clean the scrape, gently holding Kalina'a chin to keep her in place.
Kalina is awful at staying still most of the time, at least when she isn't on a mission that requires it. However, when Mysz holds her chin, she doesn't move a muscle. Even her breathing slows down, but her heart certainly doesn't. As the cotton swab first touches her cheek, she hisses at the sting, fighting against the instinct to pull back.
"Ouchie," she murmurs, barely moving her lips. As he works, she looks off to the side at the wall, but it isn't long before green eyes are looking at him again. It can't be helped, really... he is right there. He is so sweet to me.
Mysz only pauses when she hisses, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he gives the sting a moment to subside, mumbling a little "Przepraszam" to Kalina before he continues to clean the wound. It's almost fascinating to see her so still.
He knows she's looking at him; he can almost feel her gaze. He doesn't mind though, if only because it's her — where else is she meant to look anyway? They are rather close together at the moment.
Another thing Kalina notices with Mysz is that the silence is never awkward. Usually, the need to fill it with something is strong: jokes, observations, anything for it not to be quiet for longer than five seconds. She's... comfortable, just sitting like this. Watching him take such gentle care of her cheek.
As he finishes up, though, she can't help but chuckle softly. "What do you think, doctor? Will I still get to have my pretty face once this heals?"
Mysz can't help but smile when Kalina calls him 'doctor', amused by the accuracy, even if she doesn't know.
"I don't think anything could make you any less pretty," he responds before he can think about the words that leave his mouth, trying to remain as casual as possible when he notices.
Letting go of her cheek, he takes one more look at her before leaning back in his chair, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that shoots up his back.
The thing is, Kalina knows she's pretty. Not in a vain kind of way, but... she's had to use certain assets to carry out missions before, and she likes the way she looks. But hearing Mysz say such a thing hits her in a way she isn't expecting. Her cheeks feel warm, her pulse is a bit erratic. Well, this is... huh.
She just looks at him like he's a puzzle she's trying to solve when she hears the groan, and her brain quickly shifts gears. "Oh, kochanie, is there anything I can do? Anything you need?" He helped her, so it's the least she can do... whatever that may be.
Mysz hesitates for a moment when Kalina asks if there's anything she can do, mainly because the only thing he can think of seems just a little awkward. However, the pain isn't subsiding, it's getting worse, so he has to ask.
"Are your hands warm?" he asks, a kind of plead in his eyes — he's in so much pain.
Kalina doesn't hesitate to answer with a nod, already moving to pull off her gloves. While all she could really focus on was the fact that Mysz was touching her face, she still felt how cold his hands were. And with those sad puppy eyes of his, she's nearly ripping the gloves apart.
"Oh, yes! Always, see?" Setting her gloves on his desk, she takes one of his hands in both of her own. The contrast is staggering between the temperature of their hands as she gently squeezes.
Mysz can't help but smile, strained as the expression is, at how warm Kalina's hands are — just when he thought she couldn't be any more perfect. Though the smile is quickly wiped off his face by another sudden jolt of pain up his back. Ow.
"Could you put your hand on my lower back please?" he manages to ask through gritted teeth, trying not to squeeze her hand too tight. "You'll know the spot when you find it — 's sorta raised."
Kalina has questions about why part of his back is raised, but that can certainly wait. If she asks at all. Right now, her focus is on helping him find some relief. She nods once, determined, like he just gave her an important mission objective. "Of course. Let me see."
While he maneuvers however he needs to, she quickly rubs her hands together, even though they are already quite warm. It's for good measure. Starting at about the middle of his back, she moves down until... oh. He wasn't exaggerating. "Ohhh, okay. Yes, I found the spot. How is that?"
One day Mysz will explain the extent of all his old injuries to Kalina, a day when he isn't dealing with said injuries. For now he just shuffles forward in his chair so that she can better reach where he needs her hand to be.
When Kalina finds the spot, Mysz lets out a relieved sigh. It's the least pain he's been in all day; it's so nice. Granted, he's still in a lot of pain but it feels... "Better. Thank you."
He could ask her to press down, knowing that pressure helps to alleviate the pain, but there's a sound he makes at that point that he doesn't want anyone hearing.
"Anytime, dear," Kalina murmurs, smiling at him before getting more comfortable in her chair. She's not sure why she does it, and she hopes Mysz doesn't mind, but she finds herself resting her head on his shoulder. If she's going to be here for a bit, she might as well get comfortable, right?
"I am sorry you have to deal with this," she says quietly, slowly moving her hand over the spot on his back. Kalina didn't deal with chronic pain issues. Various injuries, soreness from exertion and pushing herself to the limit, yes. But nothing like this.
Mysz glances at Kalina when her head falls to his shoulder, a soft smile gracing his features, something unequivocally fond, reserved especially for her.
The apology catches him off-guard, but not because it's unexpected, but because it lacks the usual pity people phrase it with, makes it feel that much more genuine, sympathetic.
"...'s fine; I cope." The response is quiet and feels almost inadequate. "D'you have any questions about it?"
"Only the ones I'm sure you're sick of hearing. How did it happen, how long have you had to deal with it..."
Kalina is honestly surprised when Mysz asks if she has any questions. That has to mean he trusts her, right? She hopes it does. Trust can be a rare thing in her line of work... and her personal life. "But only if you want to talk about it, kochanie. No pressure."
Mysz does trust her. It's scary — the last person he properly trusted tried to kill him — but he really does trust Kalina.
"Wouldn't've asked if I didn't wanna answer, love. I got shot about... 4 years ago now? Bullet hit one of my vertebrae and my back's been awful ever since." He explains it so casually, as if it's a normal thing to have happen. "Then there's my shoulder, dislocated that a few times back when I worked in security, now it's permanently screwed, same thing with my knee, but those are older injuries — 6 years or so."
Kalina quietly listens to Mysz as he speaks, her hand continuing the slow and soothing circles along his back. "Wielkie nieba," she mutters. She hadn't realized he had been in such dangerous situations before he began working here. It makes something in her chest tighten uncomfortably, and she has to shift a bit.
It also makes her realize just how lucky she's been up to this point.
"Do you like what you do now?" She asks genuinely, tilting her head just enough so she can see his face while keeping it on his shoulder. "I mean, besides how frustrating certain people and things can be. Are you happy here?"
He notices Kalina shifting beside him, putting it down to discomfort, or perhaps even worry. Whatever she shifts out of, it makes his heart feel weird, something like guilt welling up in his chest.
"Honestly? Best job I've bad so far. Makes me feel like I'm doing the right thing, helping people," he mutters. "Put me back in a good headspace after the injury, being here."
"That's really good. I'm glad." The words are standard enough, but Kalina means them with her entire heart. If she were to make a list of the things that she likes about this job, 'working with Mysz' would be on it. Near the top, even. With a little smiley face doodle next to it for good measure.
"You're also really good at it too, you know? Whenever I know you're going to be the little ptaszyna in my ear, I'm like 'oh this is going to be easy peasy because my best buddy's got my back.'
Oh.
For some reason, Kalina's heartfelt compliment makes Mysz's heart all fluttery and warm and oh god, he's in love. The realisation suddenly hits him, despite having felt this way about her for a while — he'd forgotten the exact name for the feeling.
"I–..." Mysz trails off for a moment, trying to silence the alarm bells in his brain. I love you. "I'm glad you think so. I like working with you."
If Kalina's smile could light up a room, it would be right now, and she would have to fight to keep her mouth closed so she didn't make Mysz' headache worse.
"Really?" Her head lifts up, and her other hand falls on his knee without much thought as she looks at him. She had been worried about the silence of the moment, only because she was worried about his reaction when she called him her best buddy. "I like working with you, too, Mysz."
Now it's her turn to pause, and it feels like there are hummingbirds fighting in her stomach. Bigger than butterflies, surely. "I like you."
Reel it in, Wilson; you'll scare her off.
Mysz unintentionally flinches when Kalina puts her hand on his knee, the gesture so sudden that it startled him, but he doesn't move her hand.
There are enough butterflies in his stomach to power his entire computer setup and his heart is in his throat as he looks into Kalina's eyes. Don't say it, Wilson.
"I've always liked you."
Always. Always. The word rattles around in Kalina's brain. No one always likes her. She's too chatty, too blunt, too... much. But hearing Mysz say it so plainly, she can't do anything but believe him.
But she needs to be careful. Reading too much into this will only cause pain, and she doesn't know if she would survive that from him.
"Always, huh?" She goes for confidence and stumbles, humming and looking to the side. "That's... the first time I've ever heard that."
"It shouldn't be," he mumbles, leaning forward a little to rest his forehead on her shoulder — it feels daunting to look at her right now — with a quiet hum. "You're sweet n' fun n' honest; it's impossible not to like you."
At the risk of feeling selfish, he really hopes Kalina is reading into this a little, because as much as he's scared to consider it he wants her to reciprocate.
Kalina's gaze moves back to Mysz when she feels his forehead rest on her shoulder. That paired with the words he says, and it feels like those hummingbirds have migrated into her ribcage where her heart is supposed to be.
In this moment, she realizes that she is terrified. A different kind of fear than what she faces out on missions. It's the fear of someone getting close enough to possibly hurt her, and she doesn't mean physically. And while she can't even imagine Mysz doing such a thing intentionally... it's still scary.
Taking a deep breath, her free hand slowly reaches up to run over his head, hoping he doesn't notice the way it trembles. "I know some who would disagree," she responds with a chuckle tinged with self-deprecation. "I also think you are sweet... yet you still don't sugarcoat shit. A good balance."
Mysz hears the self-deprecation in Kalina's chuckle and it makes him so fucking sad. If he could find the words, he'd describe every single reason why she's like a saint to him, why she's practically perfect.
Then she calls him sweet and his heart skips a beat in a way it hasn't done since... well never, actually. For a moment he thinks he might die.
"Think you're the only person in the world who thinks I'm sweet, love."
"Well, I don't believe that for one second," Kalina responds as she continues running her hand over Mysz' head. There's no way she could be the only person who sees what she does. But the thought of him thinking so only makes her more determined.
"You make me feel... good. Like... I can be myself, and it's okay." It's a simple but raw truth, hinting at something deeper that she won't look at directly in this moment. "So if by some oddity I am the only one... thank you." Closing the short distance, she places a chaste kiss on top of his head.
Mysz has never felt so emotionally compromised before this point, when Kalina thanks him for making her feel comfortable with him, a lump forming in his throat as he wills himself not to blurt out something stupid.
But then she kisses him — just a small kiss on the head — and every wall he has put up crumbles all at once and he freezes, his entire mind on pause as he processes the action.
Then he starts crying. As in sobbing. It's not particularly loud but it's not silent either.
He hasn't cried in years.
Oh no. Oh no.
Crying is... usually not a good thing, right? Kalina can't even remember the last time she cried, and she's absolute shit at comforting people. But knowing she possibly upset Mysz in some way makes it feel like her chest has been ripped open.
"Oh gosh. Oh goodness, *kochanie, bardzo mi przykro,*" she rushes out, carefully moving so she can wrap her arms around him. "I didn't mean to upset you!"
She can do it all 🥰😍