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Inej could safely say that Kaz knew it all - her favourite flower, song, sweet… her favourite blade, place on the ship, perch in the Slat. He took his time, unraveling her secrets not unlike how she unraveled her braid after a windy day at the sea - full of knots and salt, but still done gently. He was the only one to ever take the time to do it so efficiently, so completely and deeply. Sometimes, it felt like a knife prodding the darkest fold of her heart, and sometimes, it felt just like caramel tasted.
Yes, he always knew her better than anyone could have expected. And Kaz did a remarkable job at putting down his own armor for her. However, despite all the time and effort they both put into the relationship, Inej had never had the idea that even Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel, would have a favourite dish. Never, until now.
…
Although Inej was on a mission to find out her beloved bastard’s favorite food, what she noticed (and realised she had been noticing all those years without paying attention) first were his eating habits.
Kaz was known for, amongst other things, his inability to sit his ass down for at least an hour. He could run on a glass of whisky, three drops of coffee (if he even took the time to make coffee - Inej would not be surprised if he just chewed on coffee beans to save time) and pure hatred for days, hell, maybe even weeks. Despite this, he mostly could be found having semi-regular meals, more the courtesy of Jesper and trying to keep his body stronger for swifter cane attacks, than actual hunger.
Kaz mostly preferred to grab something from a street vendor to quickly gobble down if possible. During the day, you could see him marching down the street like he was on a mission, only for him to hurry back a few minutes later with bread, waffles or whatever he decided to eat that day wrapped in a paper bag. Other times, when there was too much to do, he would send someone he trusted from the Dregs with a few kruge and a vague order of food.
On rare occasions, when the Crow Club decided to serve food to keep customers in longer, all workers were expected to be busy and free to take whatever they could eat as long as they did not leave the Club, and they were always welcome to finish the leftovers. Kaz would sometimes appear, sneak a few bites onto his plate and either bring it up to his office or eat it somewhere in the dark corner, unbothered (fine, only bothered by Jesper and occasionally joined by Inej).
The manner of his eating was usually dependent on the occasion - if he was, saints forbid, having something akin to a business lunch, he would scarcely touch the food, too focused on the deal to actually eat. If he did, it was in tiny bites, so he would never have to chew long if he was expected to talk.
If Kaz was eating with people that could be considered friends, he held his cutlery in a careful manner, as if preparing to use it as a weapon. Inej noticed that he constantly looked around the table, not unsure or insecure, just observing and rarely joining the conversation. The size of his bites was normal - at least, it seemed so to Inej. If he had soup, he simply ate all of it with a spoon, scooping out the last drops carefully, but still inevitably leaving some - this was a difference between the two - Inej was raised to drink her soup and clean off the bowl or plate with a piece of bread. His mouth was never stuffed, but, opposed to eating in business meetings, he actually put in enough to feel the flavor. He ate an average serving - a little more than Inej would load on her plate, but a lot less than they have seen Jesper and Nina practically inhale.
Speaking of inhaling… Kaz could also eat fast. Inej noticed, with a certain sense of self-satisfaction, that it was usually only around her that he allowed himself to eat without trying to keep up an image. Not that he became a pig. He didn’t chew with his mouth open or shovel mashed potatoes in his face with his bare (or gloved) hands, no. But he did allow himself a bit of freedom and relax. When he was in a hurry, he wolfed down his chicken sandwich with big bites, angling his head a little to be able to do just that. Sometimes, his gloves got a little dirty with ranch or grease, and he would replace them (that is a part of the reason why he only usually ate like this in the comfort of his own room) when he was done. Otherwise, when he had a little more time, he would get a plate of anything available - could be a hutspot (although this particular dish he did not seem to be too fond of), fried fish or waffles - and eat it from the comfort of his chair.
Sometimes, he was still sharp and awake, efficiently cutting pieces and eating them with the perfect balance between bringing the food to his mouth and his head to the plate, lowering the eating time and also the chances of spilling or crumbling anything on his desk or clothes. Other times, when he was too tired of even holding his eyes open, he would simply abandon a knife, grabbing a spoon or a fork instead and just shoving the bites he managed to tear off or spoon up in any size into his mouth. During those days, he slouched more often than not, his free hand either supporting his head or subconsciously rubbing his bad leg, which would get painful and even swollen. Inej frequently remembered how her mother reminded her to sit straight at the table - a habit she often broke by simply sitting on the table instead.
Inej found him appealing even during those moments, which was really saying a lot, since her view on men had been altered and destroyed so much.
As much as she tried, the first few days brought no fruits of her labor - Kaz did not seem to have a preference, which was another strangely attractive thing about him. For some reason, she always found she had a lot of respect for people who were not picky eaters and polished off whatever was on their plate. Kaz might have been dramatic, but food was never something he would complain about.
Inej knew she had to double her effort if she really wanted to find out about his favorite food.