Chapter Text
First of all, Inej couldn't decide if this man was being malicious about the whole thing. Always her best flowers! The marigolds she was the most proud of growing, despite having to grow them multiple more times than she should have to. Either he had very good taste in flowers, or the flowers meant something else to him, or he was being an asshole on purpose.
She didn’t really think it was the latter. But there was still the possibility, nagging in the back of her mind.
Second of all, she really hoped the marigolds in question weren’t for a girlfriend. Not because he didn’t deserve a girlfriend, or he shouldn’t have one based entirely on his thievery. No, she mostly hoped he didn’t have a girlfriend because…he was really handsome.
But this cute man acted very strange the whole way up the slight hill. She’d rarely been down this road in this direction, so her expectation of where any girlfriend of his might live didn’t really have a specific destination.
Or boyfriend, she supposed suddenly. It wouldn’t matter to Inej, except to confirm that she had no chance with him.
What was she doing? Pining after the man she’d just caught pilfering from her garden? She nearly scoffed.
The man she followed looked behind at her for the four millionth time. “What’s your name?” he finally asked, as if genuinely curious.
Inej looked him up and down. “Why? So you can make fun of it?”
He looked pained. “No,” he said firmly. “I need something to call you other than ‘the woman behind me.’ Whether or not you tell me your actual name is irrelevant. I just need something to call you.”
Inej blinked. “Oh,” she said, understanding the problem. “Inej. You can call me Inej.”
He gave her a quick once over; she didn’t know if she appreciated it or not. “Alright. Inej,” he said, as if savoring the name on his tongue.
“And it’s my actual name too, so don’t steal it,” she warned. “I don’t have another, and I rather like this one.”
The man gave a small laugh she felt momentarily proud of extricating from him. “Alright, you can keep it,” he quipped. “I have no use for such a pretty name, after all.” Then, seeming to realize what he’d just said, he turned away from her.
She could see the tips of his ears go pink.
She smiled to herself. “And you? What’s your name?”
The man stopped walking, his hip rotating as he leaned on his odd cane for a second. “Kaz,” he said shortly, as if afraid she might make fun of it.
“Kaz,” she repeated, nodding to herself. “I like it. It suits you.”
“You know nothing about me,” he said in a tight voice, starting to walk again.
Inej pursed her lips. “True,” she agreed. “But I still like it.”
Kaz said nothing to that, pointing down the right side of the fork they were coming to in the road. “It’s down here,” he said quietly, following his own pointer finger down the way.
Inej followed him, trying not to drag her feet. She’d get to the bottom of this soon, after all. And what could be more exciting?
It wasn’t until they’d passed five entire rows of headstones before she realized where they were.
Her heart sank, and she nearly groaned.
She was the biggest asshole the world had to offer, bar none. Not even Kaz with his thieving, gloved hands.
He ignored her, walking up to the small headstone protruding out of the ground at the end of the row. He laid the marigolds he’d been carrying across it, barely leaving the bold name Jordie Rietveld clear of stems or petals.
Inej hung back. He’d come this way to grieve whoever this was to him, and she hadn’t exactly earned the right to be at this Jordie’s grave in the first place.
The new marigolds covered a bunch of old marigolds in varying degrees of dried, so it wasn’t like she could call him out on any bullshit. There was no bullshit to be had.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, trying to hold back the overwhelming urge to weep. “You can take flowers from my yard anytime you want.”
Kaz shrugged, standing straight again. “It’s okay, I can stop,” he said casually. “There isn’t even a body here anyway.”
Inej understood in a sharp flash. “Oh shit,” she said as the thought occurred to her. “Did he…die in the war?”
Kaz shrugged again. “Yes,” he said simply before adding, “It was rather traumatic, all things considered.”
She closed her eyes, nearly smacking her forehead. He was a returned soldier. That’s why he couldn't afford to buy flowers.
She was an even bigger asshole than she’d originally thought.
“Well, even empty graves deserve flowers. It’s the thought that counts, I think,” she said as warmly as she could manage, keeping with the spirit of her original offer.
Kaz grunted. “That’s kind of you,” he mumbled.
Inej shrugged herself. “Well, I did call you a thief to your face.”
He cracked the smallest smile. “Indirectly, but that’s okay,” he granted. “I am a thief, so it might’ve been warranted.”
Inej laughed at that, and his eyes lit up in the most peculiar way. Like she’d seen them do that before. Deja vu, or something like that. Still. It felt eerily familiar. “That’s true,” she admitted. “But it wasn't kind of me to say in the first place.”
Kaz looked down, suddenly looking nervous again. “Sorry,” he mumbled, as if he didn’t want to be caught actually apologizing. “For taking them. For months.”
Inej tilted her head at him. “Why?” she asked instantly, earning herself a quick, confused look from him. “I met you through it, didn’t I?”
Kaz looked like he didn’t know quite what to say to that, shifting his footing on the grassy area.
Maybe there wasn’t anything to say.
“Let’s go back to my place? We could chat a bit,” she said, then tried to seal the deal. “And it looks like you need to get off that bad leg of yours.” She gestured at him as he shifted his weight again.
Kaz gave her an odd glance she wasn’t certain the meaning of. “Okay,” he whispered. Then, stronger, “Okay.”
Inej grinned, holding out her elbow to him as if she were the man and he the woman.
He ignored her arm, struggling down the hill by himself, his grip on his cane viselike.
She shrugged, letting her arm fall. He made a face like he’d swallowed his pride and a lemon at the same time. As if he wanted to take her elbow, but it was far too late now.
Interesting, she thought as they made their way back to her house, the one she’d inherited from her late parents. The garden was a constant reminder of them, and now, of a soldier named Jordie.
She didn’t mind. She had room to spare in her mind for Kaz’s brother.
And for Kaz himself.