#SPRING IS SUCH A CUTIE for being equally flustered over the tiniest things ;3;

[greedbent]

She expected more out of him. And that was wrong for a multitude of reasons, though mainly two came to mind: 1) He couldn’t give her that. Or “shouldn’t” might have been more apt. And it wasn’t the first time he’d taken a few steps down a road like this only to conclude that road wasn’t meant for him, no different than a comfy, law-abiding lifestyle fit Dirtyhands; 2) Spring would only expect more if she wanted more, and of all the insanity Kaz had faced since he’d first walked these dangerous, dense streets, that had to be the most unbelievable. He wondered what was the denser in this case: the streets, Spring for desiring his approval, or himself for even exercising any one of these ideas.

But he wasn’t some sorry drunkard staggering about the lively night in a stupor. . . . Kaz looked for signs in everything, remained vigilant in a place where the great majority weren’t. And so, when he caught that trace of disappointment in Spring’s tone, a festering doubt muddying the edges of what was usually so bright and cheerful, he didn’t just shrug it off and move on. (Even if part of him figured he really ought to.)

He snatched it. He copied it down in permanent ink: erratic scribbles of a man willing to drive himself insane because of one look. One word. One change in one woman. And was the irony of how stupidly simple this was—how so many men found themselves on their knees for that one woman—lost on him? Of course not. Kaz just chose to ignore it.

Really, he’d told her what someone in her shoes would want to hear (while still being entirely honest about it): Your client will appreciate your work. That was the goal. That was the whole purpose for her being here tonight, interrupted only by Kaz stepping in to lead the blind through these treacherous streets where he had, once upon a time, been just as blind himself. Logically speaking, that should’ve delighted her. That should have been enough.

But. She’d wanted more.

And only when Kaz amended his statement to express appreciation did Spring’s smile return��

It shouldn’t have. His opinion shouldn’t matter to her. Just like his opinion mattering to her shouldn’t matter to him. But it did. In both instances. And Kaz felt like he was left staring again at a closed, but oh-so-familiar door. Staring. Watching. Waiting. As if that door would just swing open all on its own, as if he didn’t need to turn the handle and walk through the damned thing himself to actually progress.

He was never keen on using the front door, however.

“Flowers are flowers regardless of where they happen to be displayed,” Kaz noted when Spring joined him again. His attention swiveled past her, carefully eyeing a few shadowed corners for any sign of movement. (The only podge willing to jump him of all people would either be an idiot or a new face, but Kaz wasn’t discounting the possibility—particularly when he had Spring with him.) “Don’t doubt your skills simply because the establishment’s not your usual . . . speed.”

Speaking of which—and regrettably—the House of the White Rose came into view at another turn, its ivory facade like a blot of white ink on a gray canvas. Kaz felt his shoulders drop, posture momentarily slackening before he cast Spring another glance. Her newfound excitement coaxed a twitch to the corner of his lips. “See? Now keep that energy.” It suits you better than that earlier doubt, at least. “And show Felix that he’s going to need to scrape up a lot of kruge for your services. He has no excuse when his coffers are full.”

His pace slowed again as they neared the entrance, and he oscillated outside the parlor while weighing his choices. “I’ll wait out here.” The promise came out faster than he meant it to, forcing him to hesitate and control himself—for pity’s sake—before saying more. “Assuming you plan on going home when this is done . . . ?”

It wasn't that Spring didn't notice when Kaz drifted near enough for their arms to brush.

Oh, no; she most certainly did notice.

It was that she didn't mind the proximity in the slightest. Even as shyness drew her eyes downward, spending a few moments watching their synchronized steps, Spring felt it was entirely pleasant. Comfortable. Actually, now that she thought about it...was this the first time they had ever been this close? Goodness...perhaps that was why she had to sternly tell herself to calm down when her heart skipped a beat.

By the time she lifted her gaze again, she was none the wiser to the attentiveness of her companion's. Instead, she was caught off guard by the playful gleam she found there. One that she couldn't help but think was quite charming. Spring stifled a giggle into the back of her hand. "No, certainly not," she affirmed. Then she grinned and spoke as easily as if she'd been asked the color of the sky, "But I would much rather give it to someone I trust. It would be the least I could do."

When they rounded the corner, the phantom presence of a hand at her back made her straighten her posture unthinkingly—somehow hyper-aware of Kaz's hand hovering there despite the lack of contact (or, perhaps because of that lack). Still, she let herself be led without hesitation. At least the street lamp provided a swift distraction for them both before her cheeks could get any darker.

Without fail, she always felt anxious whenever someone saw her artwork for the first time. Normally it would have helped that these sample paintings were exactly that: business samples that were meant for a client—not something personal. And yet those fluttering nerves in the pit of her stomach surged stronger than usual. As Kaz poured over the small stack, she studied him just as closely, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Strangely, his opinion mattered to her far more than that of the person for whom the samples were intended.

She was on the verge of fidgeting when Kaz abruptly folded them up and passed them back to her. The words offered along with them were only somewhat of a relief. "You truly think so?" Doubt colored her tone, and she looked a bit glum as she tucked the papers away and trotted after him—at least, until his final sentiment. For a moment Spring simply blinked at Kaz's profile. Then, slowly, like the sun peeking through clouds, a smile returned to her features.

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "I have never designed arrangements for...this sort of establishment before. It was a bit challenging for me, so I appreciate your advice." Knowing about Felix's extravagant tastes would allow her to make better recommendations, as well. Oh, now she felt truly bolstered for this meeting! That confidence manifested in an excited clap of her hands. "I have a good feeling about this!"