scorpionstail | prisma inbox.

[ It's unlike him, but he's been avoiding a particular topic.

Ok, maybe it isn't totally out of character because he withholds information all the time when he's scheming. But this is different. Because this is actually rather important to them getting by in this place without...well, shriveling up or dying or whatever the fuck happens when they run on empty. Maybe they've been told a load of bs, but it doesn't seem that way. He's been listening in on conversations in the streets, noting how other outsiders like them talk about this whole chroma thing.

So there's that, confirmed.

The next step is how he's going to deal with it. He can just hold hands with Inej without feeling like he's going to bolt. Honestly, the mere idea of trying that with someone else makes him feel irrationally pissed off. How much of that is his own reservations versus not wanting anyone else, he isn't sure. Actually, there's a lot he really isn't sure on. Chroma can't exactly be calculated in hard numbers. Though he can definitely tell when his own dips. He uses that as a way to create a gauge, thinking about the dropoff, how much contact was had.

A couple hours later, he doesn't have an exact formula, but it's better than nothing. Now the hard part: how does he even bring this up? It should be easy, because chances are that it's all crossed Inej's mind as well. She isn't inattentive.

Sighing, he glances over to where she's curled up on the couch, pulling his attention away from the sharp numbers he'd been scribbling away on the notebook in front of him. Her posture's relaxed, braid hanging over one slim shoulder. It makes his chest hurt. ]

Hey, I ran some numbers you might want to see.

[It's been kind of a lazy day for her, having already learned the streets and roofs of Lunatia. It's such a luxury, to have lazy days. She feels like a fat merchant's cat, lazy and content and safe.

A luxury she's begun to enjoy besides that is reading. Her mother had taught her to read and write, but she had never really read for pleasure. She belongs on the high wire, she thought, with danger and skill. Not lazing and using her imagination. But it's fun. She's enjoying something adventurous when Kaz speaks up. She peeks up over the edge of the book, then lowers her eyes to finish the sentence.

She's quick then to shut the book and sit up, setting the book aside and looking over at him. She sits criss cross on the couch, her eyes glancing over his face, so focused and handsome.] Scheming face, definitely.

[She says it with a smile before nodding, sitting with her legs crossed on the couch.] What numbers?

This chroma thing. Concept. Whatever they consider it. [ He taps his notebook page idly with his pen, a faint twist to his mouth. ]

Eventually, we're in danger of running low. Or out entirely. I'd like to pass it off as fanciful nonsense, but it's looking to be regrettably true.

[ As opposed to some puffed up government propaganda. Kaz isn't sure what would be worse—the government lying to control people or having it be a reality. The latter is aggravating enough. Maybe it isn't as painful for people that aren't him. ]

Roughly estimated, there's a dropoff period for everything. Depending on what it is, the dropoff takes longer—in theory.

[The chroma thing. Her lips press together. She dislikes the entire concept, but she'll have to acknowledge it. She can tell it bothers Kaz just as much.

He rattles on about it, and she furrows her brows together. What's his point with this?] 'Dropoff'... You're worried we're not building up enough?

[She's been a little worried herself. As much as they've touched for them lately, most people touch a lot more. And she at least has been hugging the other Crows. Kaz seems to only be comfortable with her.]

Yes.

[ He says it tiredly, though the exhaustion isn't directed at her. Instead, it's pinned on the numbers on his page, his gaze dropping to it for a moment before he glances back up again. It's also directed at himself, knowing so much of this wouldn't be a problem if he could just be normal.

(As though shaking off the past is as easy as shucking off a coat). ]

Holding hands will only go so far, if I'm accounting right. Which means— [ He stops short, teeth clicking together with how fast he ceases. In fact, he looks a bit stunned for a moment, like he's let loose a secret he didn't mean. ]

[She knows the past chases him as much as it chases her. They'll never be rid of it, especially with new hurts added on. And she knows how hard this is for him, so she doesn't question the tiredness in his voice. But he begins to speak again, and for a second she's lost, studying his tense, stunned face. Her mind reaches for an answer to what he could mean.

Hugging? Or cuddling? One of those has to be it. She takes a breath and looks back up to Kaz's face.] Which means... we should try something else?

[She'll let him tell her, but she's pretty sure she's on point here. A small part of her worries he means sex, but she just couldn't imagine that being it. At least not yet.]

[ Really, they'd talked over plans before. This shouldn't be that hard. Shouldn't being the key word—as much as he's laid it out logically, he hadn't fully taken into account how he'd feel about it at the critical moment.

How much he feels about it, right now. Frankly, it's overwhelming, a warring of two different emotions.

Inej prompts him patiently and he seems to shake off the initial shock, rolling his shoulders to force the tension out. ]

Something more prolonged, at any rate. [ He thinks she understands what he's getting at. ] If that's—if you're comfortable.

[She can't help the small smile on her face, a little amused at him despite herself. Should she help him out? Nodding, she scoots forward to the edge of the couch seat.]

I won't say it's going to be easy for me, but... Yeah. I want to. [But nerves change her expression.] I mean, if you're suggesting something like... snuggling. [She says the word and then her eyes flick back up to him, checking to see if he's going to laugh at her.]

[ Well, she wants to try, which is all either of them can really ask for. Though he can't deny how his pulse ticks up at the idea, like a repeat of the other day, when he'd tugged her off the bathroom counter.

A not insignificant part of him wants that contact again, the line of her body pressed to his. ]

I—yes. [ He wasn't going to phrase it that way because Ghezen, that's embarrassing. But she said it, not him, so he's momentarily relieved. ]

[She looks skeptically at the couch, then pops up to her feet, deciding a bed would be best. She walks in that direction, then casts a look over her shoulder, braid falling down her back and eyes bright and with a gleam in them, a smirk on her face.]

Coming?

[That's definitely a flirtation. Her eyelashes dip down, and she turns back to their doors, heading for her bedroom. Hers is more decorated than his probably is, her blanket on her bed bright and knit, soft to the touch. It's not a big bedroom, but she has some knick knacks on a shelf, bright yellow curtains. Her closet is open, but doesn't house many clothes yet.

She picks a tanktop up off the bed and sets it on the nightstand, sitting down on the bed and then crawling over to the other side. She waits there, sitting up and waiting to see how Kaz will want her.]

[ He follows her glance, starts thinking about logistics, and then she's getting to her feet. Kaz gets an eyebrow raise in before she's smirking at him over her shoulder, voice filled to the brim with implication.

Swallowing, he doesn't question it and gets up to follow her, setting his notebook on the arm of the chair.

It's a bit surreal, to be doing this—it's what stops him at her doorway, hand settled on the jamb, taking in how she's changed the space. He's caught glimpses on his way out the door, but this is different. This is an invitation. Hesitantly, he steps in and slowly moves to perch on the opposite edge of the bed. All at once, he feels deeply unsure, not knowing where to start, where to put his hands.

Working through the unsurety, he shifts to lean against the headboard, head tilted towards her in question. He holds a hand out, waiting. ]

[She watches him silently, nervously. Thankfully, he seems just as nervous as she is. He holds out his hand for her, and she takes his hand, squeezing it gently, and thinks on how to do this. For her, it would be best to see his face. But she had to make allowances for him too, and she can't imagine he's ready for her to see every expression crossing his face.

She turns so she's facing the wall, tugging his arm in that direction of her hip.] Press up- [she tries softly, her voice sounding breathless and shaky to her own ears. She tries again.] Press up against me.

[That sounded calmer. She waits for him to adjust - she's got to have him in an awkward position. To help, she places his hand on her hip, hoping that's okay with the cloth between them. A small peek of skin is showing where her shirt has risen up, just a small part of her back. Her pulse has picked up pace, waiting for him to slot himself behind her.]

[ She takes his hand and the gentle squeeze is reassuring in its pressure. It gives him the impression she's doing it as much for herself as she is for him. They're both nervous. Kaz can see it a little around her eyes.

But she's also the one who makes the first move, laying down and turning to face the wall. Her back is to him—a sign of full trust. Which, he hadn't exactly doubted, but it's still...it nearly takes his breath away. That she's willing to try this, despite her past.

Carefully, he slides down and slots up behind her, lightly looping one arm around her middle. She's so warm, heat radiating in the negligible space between them. ]

Is this okay?

[He slides into place behind her, and it sends a sharp spike of fear through her, as she gives a small gasp. She hates where her mind goes, how it's always back in silks with Tante Heleen's voice in her head with a 'Little lynx.'

But this is decidedly different, so she grabs the hand that has the arm thrown over her, squeezing it a little harder in trying to get herself under control.]

Yes, just... hold on.

[She gets her body to relax, limb by limb, and soon she's registering what it feels like, to be held like this. It's exquisitely sweet, his body warm behind her, and she loosens her grip on his hand.] Sorry...

[Inej feels dazed almost. It feels... new, but right and good.] This is good. Are you okay?

[ One thing is certain he's glad of: that he's never underestimated her strength. So it doesn't come as a total shock when she grabs ahold of his forearm and grips on for dear life. It'll bruise, he's certain, but he makes no motion to pull away.

It's what's keeping her grounded, like her voice does to him when their skin touches. It keeps her from going too deeply down the hole. He knows who she sees now—Tante Heleen and her cruel smile. ]

I'm here. [ His voice is a murmur, spoken into her hair. More grounding, just in case.

Soon enough, she relaxes in increments, muscles unlocking. ]

Yeah, this is—good. [ Better than good, if he were honest with himself. Kaz shifts a bit, getting more comfortable and trying to take some pressure off his bad leg. A few moments later, he lets out a sigh, feeling strangely drowsy. ]

[Relaxed, with his gravelly voice near her ear, she begins to like it a lot. She can't see him, but she can feel him everywhere, a comfortable, warm press against her body.

She appreciates him so much, his voice echoing in her head (I'm here). He gets more comfortable, and she smiles. There was a time she wasn't really sure this would ever happen.]

Kaz? [Her voice is soft, seeing if he's nodded off yet or not.]

[ When all is said and done, it's surreal.

They've made it this far, climbing over hurdles with some effort. But this is the reward and it's deeply satisfying.

Greed is your god. And how true that feels right now, when all he wants to do is drink this up. To remember every little detail; how her breathing slows, the slope of her shoulders, the way he can just make out how her eyelashes fan across her cheek. He wants to trace every angle with his fingers, re-map her shape in a different light.

But he knows that would be pushing it for them both. Too steep a risk. He contentedly settles and feels his own tension slip away, thoughts going from busy to quiet. ]

Hm?

[She feels his stare, then, and revels in it a little. She's quiet for a second before replying softly.]

The chroma thing... There's just a voice in the back of my mind that says it's not right, that we have to touch or we could suffer.

[It's hard for her, to think about the chroma without being scared that it's just like the Menagerie. But she can't quite say it out loud.]

But I want to touch you, Kaz. Just... so you know.

It's their price.

[ He doesn't like it, the dependency, the control that's being exerted on them through this whole system. It feels all out of place. ]

Nothing's ever truly free; in the Barrel, we paid in blood and loss. Here, they demand something different, even if it's couched as a blessing.

[ In the Barrel, they paid in more than that. For every single canal rat, it was innocence that went first. Murdered in the light of day. ]

I know. [ The two of them understand their solitary pains more than anyone else, after all. ] I've thought about it.

[ So much. Too much. Sometimes it would follow him from dreams into the waking world, leaving him too warm all over and disoriented. ]

[She nods against the pillow, hand holding onto him gently. She knows the prices they pay every day. Maybe that was just never going to change. The game just changed, that's all.

She pauses at his reply to the second part.] I've thought about it, too.

[Her voice sounds breathless, but she tries to keep her voice even and confident.]

[ If he asks, will she answer? She might not, the words teetering too close to her past in a pleasure house. He wouldn't blame her if she kept it to herself.

There's another worry: would he be able to reciprocate, if she asked the same of him? He feels a strange mix of confidence and embarrassment in simply thinking about it. Confidence because he's said much worse. Done much worse; left behind broken bones, broken spirits, blood and death.

Yet somehow, giving voice to how much he wants to kiss her is as difficult as breathing under water. ]

What would you do? [ There's an unspoken and understood: if you could, if your past didn't shackle you. ]

[The question startles her. She wishes she could see his face in this moment. She doesn't mind, really. It's like an exercise in which they pretend Tante Heleen never existed, in which she never went to the Menagerie or dressed in their silks.

She pauses for a few more moments. The second dangerous part of this is assuming he's talking about them. This snuggling could just be another transaction to him, a part of her whispers, and she feels butterflies in her stomach. Still, she's done impossible things for Kaz. She can be brave and do one more.]

With you? [It's a delaying tactic while she thinks, but she'd still like to know.]

[ Her thoughts are loud. She understands the exercise for what it is, but he knows she's turning the question over and over. After all, it's hard to unchain oneself from the past, especially ones such as theirs.

She might also be thinking he still sees her as an investment. Inwardly, he cringes, feeling his own words thrown back in his face, even if she doesn't speak them aloud. Carefully, he shifts, presses his cheek to her hair. Something like reassurance, because the words won't come; that's a different conversation. ]

Yes. You don't have to answer, if it's too much.

It's not, [she answers quickly. She doesn't want him to think she can't do something. She's the Wraith. She can do anything.

He shifts with his cheek to her hair, and her lashes dip down in pleasure. The intimacy of this is so intoxicating.]

Well, I would kiss you until our lips hurt. [Her smile is evident in her voice, but it gets serious all at once, the words coming achingly slowly, her voice sounding strained.] And I'd want to touch you everywhere, anywhere I could. I'd take off my clothes, show you my body, and I wouldn't be scared.

[It feels like the air is tense between them, and she stops, taking a breath, body feeling warm.] Is this... okay?

[ She says it's not too much and he gives her the silence she needs to collect her thoughts. Whether that means she ultimately doesn't get very far or if she answers more fully. It's not hard, letting the quiet lapse. Especially not with the comfortable warmth between them, with no threat of water around his ankles.

Inej is dealing with her own ghosts, now, and he respects that. ]

I wouldn't let you disappear. [ He says it seriously, a faint note of pride in his voice. She'd forged onwards, let the words come, even through hesitation. He feels as he does when she's neatly taken down a mark or shown up someone who thought they could underestimate her.

That mingles with the warmth of her answer and what it does to him. His imagination can fill in the blanks; there, his body can't rebel. There isn't a physical touch and it's easier to swallow down the threat of sea water and picture her fingers tracing across his collarbones. ]

I'm fine—are you?

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