She waits with bated breath for whatever might come next from his mouth. She can’t stop the doubt that forms across her features at that first admission, a curious tweak at edge of her eyes as she studies him and listens to the rest.

Truths so blatant may never have felt as ardent as these. One only need not know Kaz Brekker to not recognize the inherent romance woven into that admission.

That he never knew
Her limits.
His chances.

That he knew it could fail.
She might reject him, or the job, or both.
That walking away is, always was, and would always be: her choice.

And somehow, all sense of logic disappeared. He decided to step off the edge and trust that he wouldn’t fall. Or he would. And either way, he’d have an answer.

Every annoyance, every fear and worry, every aggravation and argument— worth it. She… was worth the treasure of keeping and the heartache of losing her.

How does she even respond to that?

It’s her own step off the edge, a blur of a thought, a decision, and an action in one fluid motion—

She leans up on her toes as her fingers frame his cheeks and she pulls— pulls him down, pulls herself up— and she kisses him. It’s a bottomless well of unspoken words poured into these few, crucial seconds before she slowly starts to ease back onto flat feet, fingertips trailing feather-light down his cheeks until her hands drop back to her sides.

It’s I love you
And it’s Thank you
It’s I choose this.
I choose here.
I choose you.

And it’s silence.
It’s comfort.
It’s you.
It’s you.
It’s always been you.

There are no words to come after a kiss like that, so she lets that tiny, short-lived and risk-stacked action do all the speaking for her.