𝒐'𝒘𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒉 ,

              [     THE   WRAITH   !     ]           :          a private     &     selective writing blog featuring     INEJ GHAFA    of the grishaverse.      a study of ever enduring faith,   indebted price of survival,    maintaining humanity in a monstrous world,     &     healing.      portrayal is primarily drawn from the books,     LARGELY HEADCANON BASED     with personal interpretations.      as spied by macy.       [     21,  SHE / HER,  EST.  MARCH  2021.     ]

      NO, THEY ARE NOT THE SAME — jesper would probably survive eating chocolate covered chili peppers.  or, at the very least, he’d be tasting something other than … cheese grease.  but that was beside the point right now; he’s clearly offended her culinary skills, and, well — jesper kind of feels a little bad about that.

“ i can make them, ”  he challenges back, eyes narrowing on that forkful of pasta like it’s insulted his mother.  is there no escape from this, a cheesy fate?  probably not.  better to just bite the bullet.  “ alright, fine, fine!  give it here — but afterwards, you are soooooooo trying a chocolate chili.  no backing out once i eat this, either.  do we have a deal? ”

there’s a brief pause between his proposition and her response,   to which she spends the first few seconds drawing out the silence as she glares at him,   attention promptly returning to her meal and taking a stab out of it and pushing it into her mouth.    she chews the food angrily,   passionately,   fervently         —         with purpose.    she even takes her sweet time reaching for her glass of water and taking a sip before she releases an      aaahhhhhh      exhale,   finally shifting her attention back to him.         

𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙴𝙳 𝙷𝚄𝙵𝙵. and there may or may not be frustrated tears in his eyes as he curls up his fingers into a tight fist. did it really fucking matter if there were tears in his eyes? no. it fucking didn’t not when their dick of a boss as standing there like the douchebag he is talking about MOXXIE’S GOD DAMN SEX LIFE WITH HIS WIFE. and then just fucking walked away to get a fucking coffee. and didn’t even bother to ask of moxxie wanted one too !! where was the respect ???? there was none. he tries to force air into his lungs again.

𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚓. he shouldn’t go off on inej. he shouldn’t go off on inej. 𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳𝙽’𝚃 𝙶𝙾 𝙾𝙵𝙵 𝙾𝙽 𝙸𝙽𝙴𝙹.

𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚖 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛. that was gonna leave a bruise for sure but he was too fuming to care. his voice somehow ends up scarily calm ❝ oh yes. I’m being very very serious. I genuinely want to know if someone took an eggbeater to blitzo’s skull when he was a child and 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃’𝚂 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙴𝙳 𝚄𝙿 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙵𝚄𝙲𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝙰𝚈 ❞

pointer effortlessly spins the tip of the knife against the metal table,   body leaning to the side the lightest as chin rests over her palm.    the posture is lax,   bored almost,   the day had been slower than the others.    inej wonders if blitzø had done something to stop the flow of their business.    it wouldn’t have been the first time but it did make her the slightest bit concerned,   especially knowing the rent in for the suite could not be held up if this pace went on much longer.    it’s a usual day to listen to bickering between her co - workers,   and she almost regrets tuning into the rantings of one mister moxxie.        

jyn pauses, studying the other woman’s face, trying to gauge the level of sincerity in inej’s eyes. over the past few weeks she’s worked with the other woman, jyn’s come to understand this is just how inej operates. she tends to say what she means, not often bothering with schemes or lies ( unlike kaz, who is a pain in the ass to decode ) ; she prefers it this way, hating the mental energy it took to dance around what she really wanted. after a beat, jyn dips her chin in a nod, agreeing silently. truthfully, she’s grateful for inej’s help –– she hadn’t been lying when she said she isn’t good at the sneaking around shit. “ more than pathetic, ” she adds with a glint in her eyes, flashing a half-smile at the other’s aggressiveness. “ all i’ve got is a name and the place we met at to make the deal. antje de vries. an alias, no doubt. ” from what she’d heard in the criminal underground, her contact had been trustworthy in the past –– seems like she’d tipped off the right people to spread lies or jyn had been the only person who’d gotten fucked over. regardless, she should have done better research, should have known the amount of money offered for the contract was too good to be true. “ –– and so long as it’s not kaz, fine. ”

wylan  found  inej  sitting  on  the  steps  that  lead  to  the  mansion’s  back  garden,    two hands wrapped around a cup of coffee and a blanket draped over her shoulders to fend off the morning chill.  the whole picture was strangely domestic,  in a way that wylan was still struggling to get used to after these past few days with the three of them living together in his father’s mansion,  in a way that made his heart swell with fondness nonetheless.

“  ‘ morning.  ”   wylan’s voice was laden with sleep as he sat next to her,  wincing just a little at the pain in his still-healing ribs.  inej offered one end of her blanket and he accepted gratefully,  tugging it across his shoulders as she scooted a little closer.

wylan dragged a hand down his face,  fighting back a yawn as he stared out at the canal.   “  are you always up this early or did you hear jesper’s snoring too?  ”   

when there came no reply he glanced over,  and almost jumped at the way inej was staring,  brow furrowed like she was studying him.  wylan was suddenly self-conscious,  and he felt compelled to sit up a little straighter,  to fix his posture.  the bruises he’d been left with after the auction had mostly faded by now,  but was there something on his face?  was it his breath?

after a moment,  he spoke.   “  uh,  do  i  —  ”

“  did you do something different with your hair?  ”   @ineij asked suddenly.

for a moment wylan only blinked,  and then he snorted.   “  no,  i  —  i  washed it,  probably?  ”  he tugged a hand through his curls.  admittedly,  it had felt good to wash what felt like months’ worth of dirt and grime and barrel off of him,  but now wylan felt his cheeks flush even as he laughed.   “  ghezen,  was it that bad before?  ”

the first night,   she couldn’t get herself to sleep.   not in the way she knew she should be able to.    it felt too easy,   undeserved,   even though she knew it was utter foolishness to even think such a thing despite the absolute madness they all endured.    but old habits were harder to break,   the hyper - vigilance coating her nerves as clenched fists readied for the most prominent dagger that laid on her form.    and then it got easier,   it was unexpected as she felt what must have been actual slumber,   to feel the heaviness of her limbs after giving into exhaustion.    so she wakes up later now,   no longer chasing the sun’s first appearance through the deep indigos of the early skies,   no longer feeling that need to hurry.

it’s quiet,   quieter than she’s used to,   when she makes her way to the garden         —          when she listens for the bustling indistinct chatter,   the makeshifts of calamity.    comfort swells within her as she hears the shuffling of feet behind her,   and then the voice of familiarity that the mansion had been lacking.    it still feels unreal,   that they can live and live without worrying about their next move,   when all that would matter was properly brewing coffee or choosing a meal from the vast collection.

she blinks,   feeling the breeze on her cheeks as she studies him,   gaze flickering from the fading bruises,   the easing tiredness around his eyes,   and then that head of hair.         ❝    no !    not bad.    just different.    ❞         she reassures,   a laugh escaping her throat.         ❝    it’s nice,   feels more you.    ❞         it bears a resemblance to the first night they’d met,   when he was prim and proper and she worried for the sake of his survival.    nimble digits clutch her end of the blanket,   still adjusting to the weightlessness from where her knives used to be.         ❝    the magic of water and soap,   what wonders !    ❞