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Something so innocent as a trip to the pumpkin patch should not have been able to be turned into criminal activity; though, Inej had learned to stop expecting Kaz to plan their dates in accommodation of the law long ago.
This time, thankfully, she didn’t feel like she needed to worry too hard over the sort of things they’d be getting up to. He hadn’t recently spoken of any personal vendettas against any seasonal event organizers, and the last time she checked, the owner of the church property they were currently crossing through was still the little old woman who’d offered Inej flowers from her garden the last time she’d walked by. She had little fear for her reaction to hearing that they’d been hanging around the haystacks, let alone just admiring this year’s pumpkin selection.
No, she had much more fear for the fact that they were approaching the church building, and all signs pointed toward their plans being located up on the roof. This didn’t greatly amplify the issue of illegality, but was much more of an inconvenience given the state of Kaz’s leg. The cold had already begun to wreak its havoc, and she doubted that the scaling of a building would help with the already-flared state of inflammation.
That, and despite the building not quite being the house of her own religion, running the risk of scuffing up the ledges of someone’s stained glass window felt like much worse a crime than their usual bouts of disruptive vandalism.
“Are you sure you can’t just let me know where we’re going? I promise I won’t try to spoil the surprise this time,” she asked, looking up toward the roof. As they walked, she caught repeated little glimpses of what appeared to be string lights -- rather out-of-place ones, at that.
“You’ll see once we’re there,” he replied, giving her hand the very lightest of squeezes, as if it would break under any more pressure.
Had Kaz Brekker not already been dressed in such a way that was purely deviant of his persona -- a sweater which bore enough plushness to stand out from the rest of his wardrobe; an open coat, providing visibility to his new shirt and; and lastly, his black gloves, folded neatly and poking out the pocket of said coat -- she would’ve been shocked by the look on his face. His nose and cheeks were flushed from the walk in the cool, and the grin he wore was utterly carefree. For someone who came up with such devious little plans on a regular basis, she would not have suspected that this would have brought such excitement for him.
And yet, in this moment, she was not looking at a criminal. She was looking at a boy with a plan -- and a plan he was quite proud of, at that.
These were welcome changes, regardless of how long he’d taken to bring them to light. They were the reason she was happy to keep walking tonight, despite being aware of their destination. They were the reason she kept accepting his invitations to go out to odd places during the night, all while knowing she’d end up putting herself in some questionable situation or another. How could she ever deny him, with his eyes shining like that? Like the life had been brought back into them; like he wanted to live solely to see this evening through?
By the time they reached the opposite side of the field, he was already directing them toward the side of the building and away from any shot they’d had at playing dumb, should the cops come and question their purpose for being at the pumpkin patch past dark.
To be fair, she could not deny the festivity of their situation. She didn’t even mind his disregard for the law; she just wished he’d planned their date at a less conspicuous pumpkin patch. Even from the dark of the roof, there was enough residual lighting from the shops nearby that they could be visible from the ground below. And what would happen, then? If the police were called about the teenagers sitting on the church’s rooftop, would they be able to get away in time? They could lose their scholarships, be kicked out of school, just because of this small error in planning.
Hopefully, should such a thing happen, they might be pardoned. After all, it was an innocent date -- she could hardly imagine the small, frail church-owner had done anything to warrant the defacing of her property. They’d walked across the majority of it without any comments from Kaz, anyway.
The moment he pulled out the key to unlock a ladder attached to the side of the building, she began to question her own judgment.
“Did you attend service just to lift that from the owner?” She stood up on her toes, peering over his shoulder to get a better look at the key he held. If the matching emblems carved into the surface of both the lock and the key meant anything, she could safely assume he’d committed a crime much worse than trespassing.
She’d always known he had a knack for relieving people of their personal possessions, but she had to wish he’d avoid doing such things to innocent people in her name; especially during their time of worship.
He sighed, smile dropping just slightly. “You know, Wraith, some faith would be appreciated.” He stepped back from the wall, leaving space for her to go in front of him. “Climb the ladder. I’ll explain when we’re there.”
The glare she gave must’ve been truly menacing, because he rolled his eyes and, with as much defeated exasperation as one could possibly muster up, pulled a piece of paper from his interior coat pocket and all but shoved it into her hand. “I got permission from Evelyn. She owed me for making sure her flower beds were watered while she was visiting her son in Belendt last month. I picked up the keys to the ladder and the back door this morning. Can you please climb the damn ladder?”
She turned around, and not without her own eye roll, began to climb the ladder. “How did you end up on a first name basis with the owner of the church?”
“She’s a friend of Marya’s. Someone was bugging her about buying the property a while back, and Marya figured I’d be the one who could get them to leave her alone about it.”
“Did you?”
“I gave them some motivation,” he admitted, more than just a bit of smugness to his tone.
Anything else he might’ve said following that statement, she hadn’t heard. Rather, she was too caught up in the scene they’d finally reached on the rooftop -- the strings of lights, the blankets laid out on the ground, just beside the open door to what had to be the church’s stairwell.
She could hardly blame him for the lack of patience regarding her questions. This sort of date was a surprise like she would’ve never expected, especially from someone as practical as he was. Climbing up here with the poles and lights, the bundles of blankets… he hadn’t half-assed it, that much was clear, and she’d spent half of the walk over worried he’d end up wrecking it with his bad habits. Truly, she should’ve learned by now: Kaz Brekker was nothing if not resourceful.
After following her up the final few steps, he stood beside her, placing his hand on her back.
“Is it safe to say that I did alright, or are you making that face because you’re horrified?” he asked quietly, stepping closer to pull her toward him.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, breathless as she stepped away from his side and walked towards the sitting area he’d set up for the two of them. There was a picnic basket sitting in the middle of the whole thing, amongst the mass of unfamiliar pillows and blankets he’d laid out, thus revealing his plan for the evening. “Thank you, Kaz. Really.”
She turned around to face him, and found that he still had on the same smile he’d worn as they walked over; one of joy, lacking any sense of other intent. “Have I earned your faith yet?” he teased, reaching out for her hand.
Before she could respond, he began leading her over to the blankets and settled down beside her.
Considering how he’d continued to surprise her over the past few months, with his own growth and his little gestures alike, she would say he’d earned her faith, indeed.