Kaz does not like the look of the man in front of him. He's too smug. Too pretty.
His nose is a bit crooked. He's got a scar on his lower lip. There's a pale cut through his right eyebrow. Another scar.
It should make him a messy jumble of unsavory features but somehow they fit well with the angles of his face.
Or perhaps the displeasing marks are so incredibly offset by the man's eyes that they no longer register as repulsive.
Two glittering pools of blackened ice, nearly flat if not for the tiniest spark of mischief lingering just off center.
Kaz thinks he hates this man. The arrogant bastard is probably plotting something.
"You can't fool me," Kaz grumbles, "I know your type," he continues, narrowing his eyes into a glare.
A loud sigh from the doorway goes completely unnoticed as Kaz's focus remains solely in front of him.
"Damn it Jes, I thought you locked this door!"
Footsteps.
"Shittt, thought I did, my badd."
Another sigh. Gentle hands. "Come on Kaz, there won't be any fighting tonight."
He turns wildly toward Inej.
"No fighting? Inej, look that arrogant smirk! He's planning something! I have to show him who he's dealing with!"
She makes a noise of exasperation. "Kaz for the third time. You. Cannot. Fight. Your. Reflection. It will not work."
Jesper snickers from where he leana in the doorway, "how much alcohol do you think it'd take to get him to make out with himself?"
Inej inhales deeply she will not scream. She will not scream.
She may kill Jes for making this happen. Again.
But she won't scream.
...
Probably.


















