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milo-my-beloved · 1 year

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things we don't say

A continuation of the some other life 'verse.

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Chapter Three: Magic

Kaz has avoided calling Inej for two months, but his fingers itch to pick up the phone all of Tuesday.

The heist is ridiculous. If Wylan had a spine, he would have left the mansion as soon as his father started insulting him. But he's helping anyway, because they're his friends, and they need him.

Not everyone is as ruthless as him.

The worst part of the plan isn't marrying Wylan and Jesper off at midnight or potentially pissing off one of the richest men in Kerch; it's Inej.

His finger hovers over the call button.

They never would have worked out. He'd known that from the start. But a small, foolish part of him believed they would. Instead of waiting for the illusion to come crashing down around him, he'd been drowning in dreams of Inej in the future — a year from now, five years, ten years.

But she's Inej Ghafa — perfect, kind Inej — and he's Dirtyhands. She's the one who puts her faith in fate, but they were never destined to be together.

They'll do this one job to help two mutual friends, and then they'll never see each other again.

He presses call and holds the phone up to his ear, hoping she hasn't blocked him. It rings, and rings, and rings. Just as he thinks she won't pick up, there's a click, and her voice floods his ears.

"Kaz?"

"Inej." He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

"What do you want?"

He shakes his head, scrabbling to regain his composure. "We need to go over the plan before Friday. I've organised our entry into the party, but we need to go over what we'll be entertaining people with."

Inej's gods know that he never explains himself this much to other people. If Rotty was the one on the other side of the phone right now, he would be demanding his presence without bothering with a reason. But, even now, he trusts Inej more than anyone else.

Stupid. She walked away from him, and he won't be the one begging her to come back.

Inej sighs. "Where and when do you want to meet?"

"My house. 5pm."

Inviting her to the scene of the crime is a mistake. He doesn't realise what he's done until the words leave his mouth.

There isn't anywhere else big enough to practice acrobatics, he tells himself. He knows it's a lie.

"See you later," Inej says, and she hangs up before he can offer her another awkward lift.

Great. He has six hours to pull himself together before he has to practise close up magic with his ex-girlfriend, pretending she never slept in his bed upstairs.

Continue reading under the cut // Continue reading on AO3.

To begin with, the summer was perfect.

Kaz never believed in perfection, but that's what Inej named it one day while they were lazing on the grass in his garden.

Kaz's waistcoat was balled up under his head to protect it from the hard ground, and Inej's head lay on his chest, a steady weight. He drew patterns on her arm with his bare hands, focusing on her smile rather than the sensation of drowning on dry land.

The sun shone down on them. In the dappled light, Inej glowed like the saints she put so much faith in.

"Thank you for inviting me over, Kaz," she murmured.

"You're always welcome here, my love."

When the sun sunk below the trees and the temperature dropped, they moved inside. Kaz served them both a bowl of chilli that had been simmering away all afternoon, and they curled up on the sofa to watch Moulin Rouge.

Inej sang along to every word. Kaz spent most of the movie watching her instead of the screen, memorising her smile.

For the first time in his life, he felt lucky. It was the first time in years that he felt like there was something that could compete with his grief for Jordie.

Love.

It never lasts.

A storm whipped up outside as they got ready for bed. They aren't uncommon for the summer months in Kerch, when the heat melts into a suffocating humidity. This one had built up for days, and it did not surprise Kaz to hear the threatening rumble in the distance.

"Is it bin day?" Inej asked, peering out of the window.

To an untrained ear, they are similar noises. To Kaz, they could never be confused. Thunder was living, angry; a wild beast that hunts you from above.

Inej didn't notice the way he froze in the middle of the kitchen, a tea towel in one hand and a wet plate in the other.

They went to bed, and she didn't notice the way he lay awake for hours. Time slipped away as he listened to the rain patter against the windows and watched the flashes of white light shine through the gaps in the curtains.

Telling her was impossible. They'd talked about his asexuality, and his leg, and his haphephobia. She'd seen his fear of the sea on the day Jesper and Wylan dragged them to the beach, and again in the aquarium.

Jordie can be nothing more than a vengeful ghost story. What's the point in dredging up his past so that she can look at him with pity for the rest of their lives?

Until that day, Inej's warm presence was enough to keep Kaz's nightmares at bay. But thanks to the storm, or the hours he spent swallowing back the waves that afternoon, his demons came to haunt him.

He woke gasping for breath, sweating, his arms flailing for dry ground. And when he calmed enough to recognise his surroundings, he found himself face-to-face with the pity he feared.

Inej's hair was tangled around her shoulders, her face pinched. One of her arms was outstretched, a kind palm hovering a few inches from his shoulder.

"Don't," he said, his voice tight.

She withdrew her hand, burying it under the duvet. "Kaz?"

He knew it was over as soon as she spoke his name. She deserved someone better than him. She deserved a boyfriend who wasn't afraid of her touch. A husband who could sleep through the night without waking them both with his terror.

He thought he could pull himself into a semblance of a man for her, but he failed.

"Kaz. Look at me."

He didn't.

"Kaz."

He lifted his head, but kept his dead-eyed stare on the window. The rain had stopped, at least.

"Kaz, don't ignore me."

"What is there to say?"

She threw her hands in the air, the mattress rocking with the violence of the action. "I'm worried about you. Please, let me in."

Didn't she understand? She's too perfect to be dragged into the murky depths of Kaz Brekker's mind.

"Let me share this burden with you," she begged.

"Believe me, you don't want to."

She folded her arms. "I'm serious. I can't keep turning a blind eye to your pain. I've seen the way you toss and turn at night. I've seen that distant look in your eyes. You can't go on like this alone."

"I've managed so far."

"Please." She reached out her hand again, her palm up for him to take. "Shed some of your armour."

"I can't," he said. He'd carried it too long for it to fall off so easily.

Inej retracted her hand. "I can't watch you destroy yourself, Kaz."

He'd finally faced her then. Her eyes glistened in the dark, twin stars flickering with compassion. What did she see? A monster snarling back at her? Or a broken boy for her to fix?

"Then leave," he said.

Inej didn't recoil. She didn't cry. She waited a moment, giving him an opportunity to snatch the words back, and then she nodded.

Her exit was silent. She slipped out of the bed without a word, picking up the suitcase she'd leant against the wardrobe a week earlier, and she didn't pause until she opened the door.

She turned back to him, one hand still on the handle. He'd leant her his shirt on her first night when she realised she forgot to pack her pajamas. It only reached her mid-thighs; she'd need to change before she left the house.

"Goodbye, Kaz."

The door shut softly behind her, and that was it.

He hadn't asked her how she got home at past three in the morning. He never asked for his shirt back. He just accepted that they weren't to be, and tried to erase her from his mind ever since.

*****

When he opens the door to her at 5pm, his hands are gloved and her hair is tightly braided. The first thing he notices is that she looks tired, and Kaz suddenly realises that he never should have allowed Jesper to drag him into this scheme.

He gestures for her to come in all the same, closing the door behind them.

"Where are we doing this?" she asks. Straight to business. Good.

"Living room."

He'd spent the afternoon pushing the furniture out of the way to make room for them to work. If he'd extended his cleaning frenzy to the rest of the house so she didn't see how the separation has affected him, she doesn't need to know.

Inej strides into the living room without saying another word. She doesn't need to ask where it is.

He crosses the room to the pile of items he left on the table earlier and props his cane against the wall so both of his hands are free.

"If I'm dancing, what are you supposed to do?" she asks, shrugging off her coat.

He holds up a pack of cards. "Magic." He slides one out of the deck, sliding it in between his fingers in a complicated series of moves that creates the illusion of the card dancing in and out of existence.

A smile tugs at her lips. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"A lot of practise." He shrugs, placing the cards neatly back in the pile of his tools. "And the internet."

She drapes her coat over the far end of the couch. "I've never seen anybody mix magic and backflips before."

"Which is why only someone as wealthy and well-known as Van Eck could hire us." He steps closer to her, pretending to pull a coin from behind her ear. "And why we'll make an excellent distraction."

Her smile grows. The trick is designed for children, but Inej always sees the wonder in the world where he has only seen a con.

"Well, if you've shown me your talent, it's only fair you see mine."

She moves so her back is flush with the wall and surveys the space, calculating how much room she has. Satisfied, she raises her hands above her head and springs head over heels, landing steadily on her feet with a flourish.

Kaz nearly claps out of instinct. The flip is spectacular, but avoiding the light fixture by only a few centimetres is even more impressive.

She turns to him, grinning properly now. A strand of hair has come untucked from her braid, and Kaz has to stop himself from reaching up to brush it back into place.

"What do you think?" she asks.

"Brilliant," he says before he can stop himself.

She ducks her head. "Enough to distract Van Eck and his guests for a few hours?"

If Inej thinks his simple trick is magic, his complicated ones might blow her mind. But to him, nothing is as magical as her flawless movements or as captivating as her beauty.

He doesn't say any of that out loud.

Bringing her over was a terrible idea, he thinks.

"Together, with what I have planned? We could set fire to his mansion and he'd never notice."

Inej tilts her head. "How can you be so sure?"

"A good magician is a good con artist." He picks up a coin, holding it up for her to see. "The trick," he continues with a smirk waving a hand in front of the coin and quickly opening his empty palms, "is to make it look real."

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #six of crows #kanej #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #my writing #lina lore #mmb writes #the things we don't say #sabpromptweek2023

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