#brekkaer

[ghafha]

     *   @brekkaer​   said   :     ❛   you   win   some  ,   you   lose   some  ,   wraith  .   except   for   me  .   I   always   win  .   ❜

                                                  _______________

                              HER COMPULSION TO ROLL HER EYES   was   murdered   before   it   ever   hoped   to   reach   the   light   of   day,   stifled   in   the   darkness   of   her   mind.   his   cocky   nature   knew   NO BOUNDS,   flourished   by   years   of   nurturing.

        ❛   SKEVRATI   ---   ❜   she   uttered   at   him   in   her   native   tongue,   tone   echoing   in   the   heart   of   reprimand.   know-nothing.    she   called   him   that   frequently,   enough   for   him   to   know   exactly   what   it   meant.        ❛     your arrogance will be your downfall, kaz. don’t let it lower your guard.    ❜       while   warning   tone   heeded   her   lilting   voice,   one   might   hear   the   hint   of   endearment,   should   they   be   listening   for   it.   she   sat   on   the   edge   of   the   windowsill,   throwing   the   last   remainder   of   seeds  to   the   crows   as   she   listened   to   kaz’s   latest   heist.   it   was   calculated,   planned   down   to   the   unpredictable   possibilities,   and   somehow,   inej   knew   if   anyone   could   pull   it   off,   it   would   be   him.

        it didn’t stop her from worrying. one day, even kaz brekker’s luck was bound to run out.

                    one   crow   hopped   closer,   head   cocked   to   side,   awaiting   more   food.   she   allowed   it   to   peck   at   her   palm,   free   the   food   dust   from   her   skin   before   turning   to   grant   kaz   her   undivided   attention.   he   had   his   scheming face   on,   bent   over   the   intel   she   had   brought   him.   sometimes   she   wondered   if   he   could   ever   truly   give   up   this   life,   a   life   he   had   spent   his   whole   life   fighting   for.   sometimes,   she   wondered   if   they   could   both   leave   this   wretched   city,   liberate   themselves   from   the   shackles   that   bound   them   to   its   walls.   oftentimes,   she   convinced   herself   that   was   only a dream.

                               ❛   what   do   you   need   me   to   do?   ❜

[caandelita]

🍩 .•°* 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐊𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐑┆ “  liked

❛   𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄    ❜   —–   the redhead informs allowing herself the audacity of lifting her chin a little bit; challenging attitude,  back straightening fully against the back of the wooden chair   ❛  i’m not one to resort to physical violence but if i’m provoked i’ll surely not back down that easily   ❜  for whatever it is they might want from her,  they’d need to do a lot better and more than vandalizing her property.       

[ghafha]

          *   @brekkaer​ said :  watches her in the windowsill from his desk.

         SHE    WAS    PERCHED    'PON    THE    WINDOWSILL     ----------           (     fitting for a crow   ;   fitting for a girl   born   with   her   feet   ‘pon   the   tightrope,   but   she   claimed   neither.   she   was   a   ghost now, a phantom, a WRAITH     ).   she’d   never   tire   of the   air   in   ketterdam,   of   the   salt   on   the   wind   and   the   stench   of   rot   in   its   underbelly.   she   pretended   not   to   notice   the   way   his   eyes   lingered   to   her   from   his   desk,   pretended   not   to   notice   the   quiet   thrill   that   sang   itself   into   the   dusty   halls   of   her   chest   in   regards   to   such   attention.   strands  of   hair   had   freed   themselves   from   her   braid,   her   gaze   turned   upwards   towards   the   lowering sun,   eager   for   its   departure   so   that   she   could   do   what   was   asked   of   her.   only   when   she   felt   his   eyes   move   away   did   she   turn   to   look,   and   something   within   her   urged   her   to   speak.

                if you’re going to stare, you should really tell me what you’re thinking.

                                         but   those   words   died   before   they   got   the   chance   to   flee   her   mouth.   kaz brekker   only   shared   information   that   benefitted   him;   nothing more, nothing less.   observation   became   her   ---   the way he favored his leg    /    exhaustion staining the slopes of his cheeks   /    the small press of stress lining his brow.   sometimes,   something   inside   her   was   compelled   to   reach   forward   and   erase   that   line   between   his   eyes.   she   refrained   every   time.

                                                                         when   he   turned   to   look   at   her   again,   she   did   not   look   away.   she   was   perhaps   the   only   one   in   the   city   who   did   not   fear   him      (   does that make you bold, or foolish?     ).    squaring   her   shoulders,   her   chin   jutted   ----   fearless girl, nothing in this world would touch her again.

                                                        if only you would. if only that were the case.                                                                  ❛    can I help you kaz brekker?   ❜