"You needn’t pray to your Saints for me, Inej," he rasps quietly, peeling his bruised and swollen eyes open. Lying on his back in his bed, he peers over at her and ignores the lightning strike of pain along the length of his neck. In the stark light of his room, she’s softly silhouetted in the shadows. "They’re not my Saints."
Inej rolls her eyes, peering down at him with fond exasperation. Gently and tentatively, she lifts her hand and softly brushes the side of her small finger against his temple. When he doesn’t wince, she brushes his damp hair away from sticking to his forehead. "I know, Kaz," she says gently, "you don’t believe in Saints."
He shakes his head, smiling softly up at her. "I don’t," he confirms quietly. "I believe in you."
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"You needn’t pray to your Saints for me, Inej," he rasps quietly, peeling his bruised and swollen eyes open. Lying on his back in his bed, he peers over at her and ignores the lightning strike of pain along the length of his neck. In the stark light of his room, she’s softly silhouetted in the shadows. "They’re not my Saints."
Inej rolls her eyes, peering down at him with fond exasperation. Gently and tentatively, she lifts her hand and softly brushes the side of her small finger against his temple. When he doesn’t wince, she brushes his damp hair away from sticking to his forehead. "I know, Kaz," she says gently, "you don’t believe in Saints."
He shakes his head, smiling softly up at her. "I don’t," he confirms quietly. "I believe in you."