Actions speak louder than words. Actions speak louder than anything, in Kaz’s mind. It was so much harder to say ‘I love you’ than to destroy the things that threatened to harm what he cared about. He would lay Ketterdam to waste if it meant keeping her.
Inej enjoyed touch – a hand to hold, gentle kisses to her brow. She liked to cuddle, if Nina’s word was true – and it always was, when she was talking about Inej. But Kaz didn’t like to touch. And even though he was trying, fighting that bone-deep aversion so he could be what she wanted, he wasn’t accustomed to it yet, and she wasn’t going to force it on him.
Instead, she learned a new language, adapted to his way of speaking. She showed him love with a look, with gifts that he swore he didn’t want, but always wound up gracing the front edge of his desk anyway. She didn’t know if she would kill for him like he would, and has, for her – she didn’t know if she could set aside her morals yet – but she’d harm for him. If Kaz was hurt, she’d hunt whoever laid a hand on him to the ends of the Earth and make sure they regretted ever thinking about doing it.
He adapted to her too, picked up on her language more and more as time went by. And it's so easy for her to fall back into it when he sits beside her and kisses her head, twining his ungloved fingers with hers. When he speaks her language with a fluency neither of them imagined possible.