@howthesleeplesswander || kaz finally got his shit together for Spring (｡-_-｡ )人( ｡-_-｡) lez go
Kaz Brekker didn’t need to make up excuses.
He didn’t need to waste entire weeks of his life pacing the creaky floorboards of his office like some anxious podge who couldn’t figure out the definition of “decisive” if it was plastered to his face. He didn’t need to reread every letter she sent, digging into each pen stroke like it held whispers of a sign that’d tell him where to go from here. He didn’t need to fabricate a reason to visit her, to spend time with her when they both (clearly) wanted it. He didn’t need to do any of this useless piffle.
So of course he did.
It was a culmination of those arduous evenings spent holed away in his quarters—mind a swirl of what-ifs and what-thens, plans taking shape and action—that finally brought him to be by Spring’s side today. And, for the very first time, beyond the crowded Ketterdam streets. Kaz had invited her out to the countryside under the pretense that he’d found her a new client: not any more of a truth than it was a lie. He’d communicated that something required her attention—her particular expertise—and suggested they go together.
Did he exercise the possibility that she might deny him . . . ? Partially. (But he’d digested her letters enough times to convince himself it was a slim chance, if one at all—logically, that is, while another side of him was still entirely perplexed by the realization.)
Together (how heavy and meaningful that word suddenly felt), the two of them walked along the dusty dirt paths woven into farmland, passing an occasional carriage that began to look exceptionally inviting for a limping fool of a man who thought the stroll would be pleasant—and another excuse to spend more time by her side. The sun felt hot, almost foreign on what it could reach of his skin, bathing his cheeks in warmth enough to somewhat redden them. (He’d forgotten to bring his hat . . . and was only mildly furious about it.) When they approached a gentle upward slope, Kaz had to bite his tongue to keep a curse behind his lips.
But it was easy to ignore that ache in his leg, even when it spiked from overuse. It was easy to ignore the heat collecting in his dark clothes. It was easy to ignore how absurd he felt about all of this . . . simply because he kept her close, walking in that proximity that granted the occasional brush of their arms. It was easy to ignore most things that bothered him, really, when in her company.
“I’m still surprised you don’t come out here more often,” he eventually supplied, breaking a small lull of quiet after their previous conversation. Kaz lifted his chin, craned his neck as if to see over the bend of the hill they climbed. “You’ve always struck me as someone who would thrive away from the city: somewhere you and your flowers won’t suffocate.” A sidelong glance brought with it the faint quirk of his lips. “Stay where the business is, I suppose.”
