or: inej and nina make out in a library for fun

the ketterdam library is high walls and thin, winding balconies, bookshelves built to the sky and dusty light falling across the floor.  nearer the entrance, people are milling gently, silence broken only by shuffling feet and the turning of pages.  further back, though, it’s emptier, the silence somehow quieter.  inej melts into the shadows like a ghost, but when nina’s fingers brush against her wrist, she’s warm to the touch.  nina can feel the other girl’s pulse beneath her fingers.

it’s one of the things she misses most about her powers, as they were.  she never needed to reach out before, not like this.  but inej understands, and lets her do it, although nina can hear the way her breath catches even as she remains perfectly still.  

inej’s hair is tied back.  the bare skin of her neck suddenly feels hyperaware, and she suppresses the urge to shiver.  when nina’s hand comes to rest there (gentle, barely touching) she can feel herself tense.  nina feels it too, pauses, ready to pull away if inej asks.

inej doesn’t want her to move.

“is this alright?” they’re hidden away in the shadows, past deserted rows of bookshelves away from anyone who could see them, and the whisper of nina’s voice seems to echo louder than a gunshot. “inej?”

she swallows.  nods.  tries again, and finds her voice. “yes.”

and then they’re kissing.

nina’s lips are a little dry, but plenty warm (like nina herself, inej thinks fleetingly, she has a way of making you feel warm), and inej tilts her head to kiss her better.  it presses them closer together, and when inej presses a hand to nina’s shoulder, her fingers tangle in long hair, like strands of silk.  there’s the faint rose smell that clings to nina wherever she goes, in her hair, in the folds of her skirt.  inej feels like somebody’s hollowed her out and put stars inside her.

when they break apart a moment later, both are a little breathless.

maybe that’s just the nina zenik effect.

conversely, inej feels more full than she did before.  a creature of air made real, and tied for a moment to earth.  there’s no way of wording it without sounding foolish, so inej leans up to kiss the side of nina’s jaw, feather-light.  

nina makes a pleased humming noise that’s not quite a sigh, and despite herself, inej bites her lip to keep from giggling.  they’re in a public library, hidden away, perhaps, but still very much there for somebody to stumble across should they turn down the wrong aisle. 

a coy grin tugs at nina’s lips.  she, like normal, seems to know exactly what inej is thinking. “quiet.  we might give some poor scholar a heart attack.”

“i think they’ve seen worse.” inej has spied and eavesdropped on half the people in the room.  the university has its own library, so most of the visitors here are merchants, council members, religious scholars - ketterdam’s purest and holiest, and most corrupt.  

“oh, i don’t know.” they still haven’t moved apart.  nina’s almost speaking the words into her skin. “i’m sure we could find a few ways to shock them.”

despite her words, nina really doesn’t want to get caught.  this sort of thing might have been fun to tease matthias, but this moment is something else entirely, something quiet that belongs just to them.  inej is made up of sharp edges and invisible balance, and kissing her is dizzying.  nina’s seen inej move like gravity bends to her will, like she carries gravity within her and chooses to let it go, but now –

as she leans forward to kiss her again, as inej’s fingers slide through her hair and nina feels like all the breath has left her

– it’s like inej has pulled her up, too, nothing but height and sky and impossible knife-edge balance.

it’s a fall she’d be glad to take.