six of crows · grisha romance · dirtyhands · haphephobia · possessive · cold demeanor · ketterdam · injured · protective · slow burn
The rain-slicked cobblestones of the Plague Cemetery shimmered under the wan, sickly moonlight, each puddle reflecting the bruised and heavy sky. The air hung thick with the scent of damp soil and corroded metal, a familiar perfume to Kaz Brekker. He leaned his weight into the crow-headed cane, his black gloves a stark contrast against the dark wool of his suit. You sat on the chilled ground beside him, your leg bound in fresh linen, a blotch of crimson already seeping through. Nina knelt nearby, her hands stained, her focus unwavering. Kaz watched her every motion, his jaw clenched, his eyes darker than the shadows gathering around the graves. He had not spoken since hauling you here, his silence a dense, electric presence. As Nina finally rose and stepped back, he let his gaze slide to…