Prompt
X: Y, how do I get revenge on my enemies?
Y: The best revenge in life is letting go and living well.
X: Z, how do I -
Z: Bomb.
I SEE YOU, buckle up for some Fluffy Flirty Appreciating Nina Content and crows.
Eat, Drink, And Be Merry, (For Tomorrow We Die) - Nina Zenik
Content Warnings: Canon Compliant Threat And Violence. Explosions/Demolition. Casual I Love You Confession. Explicit Language. Not Beta/Proof Read.
"I can’t look," Jesper is making a fuss, one of the blades nicked his jacket in the riot, but you are relatively sure it didn't even break skin, but that doesn't stop him being... loud about it. "Tell me honestly," he grabs a hold of Wylan's arm, glaring him down like he could be the culprit, "how bad is it?" Wylan moves to open his mouth, but before he gets the chance to say anything, Jesper clasps a hand over Wylan's mouth. "No wait, don’t tell me, I have changed my mind."
"You're not even bleeding," Nina tells him.
"Not me," Jesper says, "the coat." You stifle a laugh and Jesper eyes you. "It's my best coat."
"Then let me," Wylan says, tugging the coat off. You tune out Jesper asking Wylan where he got a degree in coat mending, and Wylan trying to ignore him and his worried buzzing as he locates a needle and thread.
"You'd think he was losing a limb," you say. Inej shrugs.
"Jesper is... Jesper," Inej says, "he can be like that."
You look around and Nina is gently walking rounds of the room, while Kaz watches the chaos outside through a small slatted window.
"This all feels very unnecessary," you point out. Nina grins and crosses her arms, eagerly awaiting Kaz's response.
"Inej, how do I get revenge on my enemies?" Kaz asks. Inej looks up from where she was cleaning her knife.
"The best revenge in life is letting go and living well," Inej says, which is what he knew she would say and gets the expected hand gesture of dismissal for the statement.
"Wylan, how do I-,"
"Bomb," Wylan says, keeping his eyes on the stitching.
"So you claim this mess, is your strategy for revenge?" You ask Kaz. A smirk curls up in the corner of his lips and then the sound hits, the shaking of the building follows immediately after, and you nearly lose your footing. "Fuck."
"Bomb," Wylan says again, looking up. Jesper grabs the coat the moment Wylan's eyes are off it.
"You’ve done quite enough stitching," Jesper says, smoothing the fabric down. "Quite enough."
"You are welcome," Wylan says, pointing the needle at him.
"We are brushing over the literal bomb that just went off?" You ask. In turn everyone except Kaz shrugs. "Was I the only one not clued in?"
"I had no idea," Nina says, "but you kind of expect that from him."
You move towards the door and Kaz looks like he is about to give you an order but Nina's glare fixes his mouth shut, even if he wouldn't admit it. Nina follows you out, a gentle breather in the hallway, but you look at her and you forget how to breathe. Even the chaos couldn't make you forget Nina, make you any less enamoured by her. She didn't ask you to be here, she didn't have to, she never has to, there is nothing that could get between you and helping Nina and her strange little eclectic band of thieves she has come to call family.
"Ready to run for it?" Nina asks, giving you the space to move around and exercise out your stress.
"Are you?" You ask. She just sighs. "I am not going anywhere."
"You've got no skin in this... fight," she points out.
"I've got you," you remind her. Her cheeks are already pink enough that the blush is nearly unnoticeable, but you miss nothing when it comes to Nina. "I mean I don't... I haven't got you, you know what I mean."
She leans in closer, letting her arm rest against yours. "I don't know, I guess you could say you've got me," she says, "for what it's worth."
"Hey Nina," you say, letting your head rest in her hand as she cups your cheek, "I think I might be sort of in love with you."
"Sort of?" Nina asks.
"Is that okay?"
"Yeah, I think that is okay."
37 notes
·
View notes
Dreams, as we all know, are very queer things: some parts are presented with appalling vividness, with details worked up with the elaborate finish of jewellery, while others one gallops through, as it were, without noticing them at all, as, for instance, through space and time. Dreams seem to be spurred on not by reason but by desire, not by the head but by the heart...
Fyodor Dostoevsky, "The Dream of a Ridiculous Man" (trans. Constance Garnett)
8 notes
·
View notes