For Em via the Drabble Game (KazInej, barefoot)

She kicks off her shoes, the salty sea air tickling her bare feet. For once, she doesn't have to worry. There is no climbing, no struggling to find a foothold. This is solid ground.

And yet, when she hears the familiar steady thump thump thump of his cane against the rooftop, she may as well be atop the wire, struggling for balance. Her heart is an acrobat, turning painful somersaults inside her chest, and there is no peace. If she's honest, this is the most scared she's ever been.

She hears her uncle's voice in her head. Who would dare to defy death, to lay her heart on the rope to be opened for all to see?

"I would," Inej whispers.

Kaz comes to a stop, leaning on his cane, gloved fingers brushing over the metal crow. "What was that, Wraith?" he asks, his coffee eyes seeking her out in the sliver of moonlight that washes over them.

Wraith. She almost laughs. If anyone else called her by the name she left behind, she might pull her knives on them. But Kaz is allowed. He has always been the only exception.

"Nothing."

Her eyes study his hands. The gloves are still on, but she can remember those feather light touches of his bare skin against hers. Baby steps. One day, maybe she will have him as she wants him. She will have him vulnerable.

Kaz takes a step closer, and she matches his movement. It feels like an act, like they are little more than two performers before a crowd, showing their trust, their courage.

See the way they move, so in sync. One false step, and our daring heroes will fall.

She used to be afraid of that fall. Each step on the rope, each unexpected jolt. But she learned to breathe, to move. Now, with Kaz before her, she doesn't think that falling would be such a terrible thing.

"I didn't think you would come," she admits.

"How could I miss a chance to say goodbye to my favorite spider?"

Another step. Again, she matches it. The space between them is barely there. If Kaz were to sigh, she would feel his breath tickle her skin.

"You say that like I'm not going to come back," she says, her gaze flickering to the harbor for the briefest of moments.

She can still remember a time where she wouldn't come back. Those early days in the Menagerie, if given a chance, she would have turned her back on this cursed city and never bothered to even consider glancing back. But she is not that scared little girl anymore. As much as she wants to wash her hands of the Wraith, it's still part of her. This is still her city. And Kaz Brekker is still her…

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of that thought.

"You could come with me," she offers.

His lips quirk into an almost smile. "I have an empire to burn," he reminds her.

He takes another step. This time, Inej cannot match him. This time, the dance ends. All that separates their skin are the clothes between them. Kaz lifts one hand. Inej feels her breath hitch, and she is very much like an audience watching an acrobat defy death.

He strips away one glove and lets it fall to the ground. His other hand lifts, and he does the same with that glove until milky moonlight makes his bare skin almost luminous in its glow.

His fingers brush over her cheek. Though there is only gentleness there, Inej can feel the tension in every fiber of his body. It is echoed in her own. She closes her eyes, reminding herself again and again that it is Kaz that touches her, not some nameless patron of the Menagerie.

"Come back to me," he whispers, his lips grazing her cheek. "I will be waiting for you without armor."

Her hands tremble as she strokes his neck. A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips. She's wanted him like this for so long, and now she has to walk away. "Promise me you'll be here," she says, her bottom lip quivering. "Promise me."

"As long as you keep coming back, I'll be here."

Who would dare to allow herself to be vulnerable? Who would dance with the cruelest, slowest death that we call love?

"I will."