#random thing i.wrote today

[slightlyunconventional]

k/anej drabble below the cut <3 featuring a sick k/az and lovely i/nej

"Are you finally going to admit that you're sick, then?" asks Inej quietly. She feels Kaz give the smallest of nods from where his head is pressed against her shoulder. Warmth radiates from him, felt even through her shirt.

They've been sitting this way for the last half hour, together on Inej's bed with the lights dimmed nearly all the way and the curtains drawn. There's a thick blanket over Kaz's shoulders—thankfully he stopped shivering a while ago, but he doesn't seem to want to move still. He'd come down with one dreadful cold; his entire day had been full of pounding headaches, wrenching sneezes, and fruitless sniffles against the thick congestion in his head.

"You're still feeling warm," Inej mumbles, resting her head upon his. She brings her hand up to gently play with his dark hair and immediately hears him breathe a soft, contented sigh upon the contact. He doesn't reply to her words.

"Oh, love..."

This prompts him to make a disquieted noise that probably means something along the lines of "stop worrying so much, I'll be fine"—he's obviously far too exhausted to actually form the words. Kaz sniffles softly and leans his head a bit more firmly into her shoulder. Inej's fingers continue their deft work through his hair. She decides that he'd rather hear her talk about something that isn't his festering cold, so changes the subject, careful to keep her tone soft to avoid provoking that dormant headache of his.

"Your hair's getting long," she says, examining the dark strands. "Maybe I could cut it for you." Secretly, she hopes he'll say no. Inej likes his hair like this. Again, though, Kaz says nothing. Probably half asleep by now, Inej thinks fondly.

They remain in comfortable silence for a few moments more, before Inej feels Kaz's head lift slightly from her shoulder, and she hears his breath hitch. It's quiet, but she just about catches it.

"Bless you," she murmurs with a smile before Kaz ducks down slightly, directing a rather tired-sounding sneeze haphazardly into the back of his wrist.

"hhuh'zZSHHh!" He raises his head a bit more so he can knuckle at his nose and mumbles a quick "sorry." Inej places her hand back onto the back of his head with a sympathetic smile.

"It's okay. You can't help being sick." As if to prove her point, he pitches forward again with a second, stronger sneeze.

"hehH'SZZHHhue! Huhh... Ghezen, I'm sorry." Kaz rubs at his pink nose again, looking utterly miserable. Even in the dim glow of the lamplight, Inej can easily see the glassy quality of his coffee-coloured eyes. The sight of him sends a pang of pity through her heart.

"Hey, stop apologising, okay?" she chides gently. "It isn't your fault, and I don't mind."

Kaz pulls a face—halfway between a frown and a pout. "I don't want to get you sick, too," he says miserably.

Inej breathes out a quiet laugh. "I think we're beyond that point now."

With a defeated sigh, Kaz places his head back onto her shoulder, and Inej resumes her gentle playing with his hair. Though she'd never say it aloud, Inej treasures these quiet moments with Kaz more than anything in the world. They're the only times he's just Kaz, not Dirtyhands, not the Bastard of the Barrel. Just Kaz, vulnerable, sensitive, oftentimes warm and kind, without any of that monstrous façade he'd built up over the years. She hopes he values her just as much as she does him.

"I think it's time you got some sleep, Kaz, love," Inej says, now stroking his hair. She can feel his brows furrow against her shoulder.

"Well, I was nearly asleep until you started talking," he grumbles, feigning annoyance. She laughs softly.

"Sorry about that," she says. "But I meant asleep in, well, a bed."

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Kaz," she says pointedly. This prompts him to raise his head, if only slightly. He casts her a wary gaze, then sighs.

"Yeah, I know," he replies quietly. "I just-"

Inej knows exactly why he's reluctant. He's under the weather—his sleep is bound to be crawling with feverish nightmares that leave him moaning in his sleep or stifling sobs into his pillow. She cups his cheek gently with her hand and meets his eyes with a firm gaze.

"You're safe. I'll be here, the whole night, okay?" she reassures him. He nods weakly. "I won't let anything hurt you. I promise."

Inej is unsure if it's her imagination or not, but his eyes seem shinier than before, as though a single blink would send tears cascading down his face. His nose, too, is red-rimmed, tender, abused from a day's harsh knuckling. She's glad he's finally allowing himself some rest—she's never seen him so exhausted.

Inej holds Kaz's half-lidded gaze until he begins to tiredly shift himself on the bed. He still seems hesitant.

"Kaz, I'm here. We're here. It's okay," she says quietly. "Please, let yourself get some sleep. You need it." He nods wordlessly again.

She reaches over to the lamp. "Do you want this off?"

"Please," Kaz manages through the haze of exhaustion. Inej switches off the lamp and sits on the bed beside where he lay down. Almost immediately he rests his head on her side, curling in on himself slightly.

"You'll feel better in the morning."