[ the puzzle should excite him, and it does pique the absurd interests of a mind hopelessly overfond of risk, but for the first time something else settles directly beside it, an uncomfortable pulse that clouds the water. to dive headfirst into a problem has always been his preference — he thinks better under pressure — but his world has drastically shifted in the past weeks and months, trampling half of what he's known underfoot, and the things presently of paramount importance are not the same as when he was a prince or even a king.
he's a captain again, tasked with the formal undertaking of kaz brekker. (even if he wasn't, he'd find a way to make brekker his problem.) the monster has already sussed out his weakness, the same weakness his parents and tutors discovered when they'd brought dominik to the palace. it had taken but one time for the other boy to be punished for nikolai’s folly for him to alter his behavior — and the course of his life along with it. now, with soiled bandages strewn across the bed and the scent of blood hanging in the balmy air, there is little room for recklessness. ]
And your tack? To treat your entire life like a game of cards? [ for a moment he doesn’t recognize himself — overly serious, overly fearful. he expels a breath, softening. ] You can hardly blame me for wanting to keep you here and feed you tiny sandwiches in bed.
[ he can see kaz’s hand coming and yet the touch is still unexpected, his skin warming beneath bare fingers. he surrenders to it, his point fleeing his head as he leans in, aching with a loss he can’t find the words for. when their lips brush, a thought that won’t leave him carves itself from the edge of his mind — had it felt the same when the monster kissed him, too? the kiss is too fleeting for him to fabricate an answer for himself, his attention drawn to the notebook, and with it, the obstacles standing before them.
his obstacles. not brekker’s. a distinction that will go over poorly, if voiced. his gaze gravitates toward kaz’s acerbic mouth, the memory of blood smeared across it, deceptively sweet. he braces the edge of a finger at kaz’s jaw to brush his thumb over his lips, tracing the shape he’s come to intimately know. ]
I have your word, then. [ much easier to snare kaz brekker into his maudlin schemes without the whole of ketterdam watching. he doesn’t miss the wretched island for a second. ] That I take precedence in your schedule. I think we should plan for things the bastard of the Barrel hardly has time to indulge in. Things to occupy the mind. Like fishing and bird-watching and testing the range of explosives stored on the ship.
[ as if he has all the time in the world, as if the seconds aren’t a constant tick in the back of his mind. he picks up the pencil, tapping it on the page. say them in a way only i’ll understand. he writes in an impulsive burst, only three words, and turns the notebook back into kaz’s hand. ]
Do you think the monster understands such a concept? [ a question to cushion the blow of what he’s just written: i love you, a sentiment never expressed well between them. it’s cast unfairly even now — though true, it’s meant to leave kaz out of the plans he intends to formulate in six days’ time. loosening the cuff of kaz’s sleeve, his fingers slip beneath fabric to wiggle awkwardly in a curious search before his face brightens and he extracts a tiny blade. ] I knew you’d have one.
[ he settles his focus on his leg again, slicing carefully through the length of bandage covering the more serious wound. it takes more courage than he cares to admit to uncover it, claw marks still as bloodied as the day nikolai split his flesh, the dark stains of merzost shifting across the damage. the sunlight only makes the scene more grisly. ]
Were you afraid? [ nikolai doesn’t lift his head when he finally asks, a tender hand slipping beneath kaz’s knee to raise the wound toward the light. carefully, he begins cleaning the excess of blood, his scarred hands a match to kaz’s leg. ] When you were alone with the monster?
no subject
he's a captain again, tasked with the formal undertaking of kaz brekker. (even if he wasn't, he'd find a way to make brekker his problem.) the monster has already sussed out his weakness, the same weakness his parents and tutors discovered when they'd brought dominik to the palace. it had taken but one time for the other boy to be punished for nikolai’s folly for him to alter his behavior — and the course of his life along with it. now, with soiled bandages strewn across the bed and the scent of blood hanging in the balmy air, there is little room for recklessness. ]
And your tack? To treat your entire life like a game of cards? [ for a moment he doesn’t recognize himself — overly serious, overly fearful. he expels a breath, softening. ] You can hardly blame me for wanting to keep you here and feed you tiny sandwiches in bed.
[ he can see kaz’s hand coming and yet the touch is still unexpected, his skin warming beneath bare fingers. he surrenders to it, his point fleeing his head as he leans in, aching with a loss he can’t find the words for. when their lips brush, a thought that won’t leave him carves itself from the edge of his mind — had it felt the same when the monster kissed him, too? the kiss is too fleeting for him to fabricate an answer for himself, his attention drawn to the notebook, and with it, the obstacles standing before them.
his obstacles. not brekker’s. a distinction that will go over poorly, if voiced. his gaze gravitates toward kaz’s acerbic mouth, the memory of blood smeared across it, deceptively sweet. he braces the edge of a finger at kaz’s jaw to brush his thumb over his lips, tracing the shape he’s come to intimately know. ]
I have your word, then. [ much easier to snare kaz brekker into his maudlin schemes without the whole of ketterdam watching. he doesn’t miss the wretched island for a second. ] That I take precedence in your schedule. I think we should plan for things the bastard of the Barrel hardly has time to indulge in. Things to occupy the mind. Like fishing and bird-watching and testing the range of explosives stored on the ship.
[ as if he has all the time in the world, as if the seconds aren’t a constant tick in the back of his mind. he picks up the pencil, tapping it on the page. say them in a way only i’ll understand. he writes in an impulsive burst, only three words, and turns the notebook back into kaz’s hand. ]
Do you think the monster understands such a concept? [ a question to cushion the blow of what he’s just written: i love you, a sentiment never expressed well between them. it’s cast unfairly even now — though true, it’s meant to leave kaz out of the plans he intends to formulate in six days’ time. loosening the cuff of kaz’s sleeve, his fingers slip beneath fabric to wiggle awkwardly in a curious search before his face brightens and he extracts a tiny blade. ] I knew you’d have one.
[ he settles his focus on his leg again, slicing carefully through the length of bandage covering the more serious wound. it takes more courage than he cares to admit to uncover it, claw marks still as bloodied as the day nikolai split his flesh, the dark stains of merzost shifting across the damage. the sunlight only makes the scene more grisly. ]
Were you afraid? [ nikolai doesn’t lift his head when he finally asks, a tender hand slipping beneath kaz’s knee to raise the wound toward the light. carefully, he begins cleaning the excess of blood, his scarred hands a match to kaz’s leg. ] When you were alone with the monster?