kaz had always flaunted being a man of patience, or at least, he liked to pretend he was. losing his composure was of no use to anyone, unless he was driven to instil fear in others, though that was no particular desire of his.

tonight, however, his patience was withering rapidly. he was seated across from you, cobalt eyes narrowed as he surveyed the map sprawled before him. a slender finger lazily traced a path across the city, as though it was a piece of artwork, his fingers coated in a nonexistent paint.

he was in charge of arranging a heist. the ideal result would be the acquisition of an incomprehensibly powerful young noble, who happened to be in possession of some sort of blackmail material that was severe enough to incarcerate kaz’s most valued subordinates.

your involvement was.. well, kaz wasn’t absolutely certain as of yet, which was why your wrists were bound together and you were restrained to a chair opposite him. he was convinced that you were a source of information, and had been persistently attempting to uncover what he presumed you were withholding.

his lashes slanted upwards; regarding you. “oh, don’t look at me like that,” kaz drawled, voice barely ascending a whisper, but still firm enough to carry weight in the empty room. he didn’t need to raise it to make it clear that his temper was moments away from flaring. he straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders to alleviate the built up tension. “why do you insist on withholding information? i know you know something, love.”

kaz tsked, exasperated. he steepled his fingers. “the fact that you haven’t told me yet—well, that’s amusing, really.” the faintest smirk tugged at his lips, but it failed to reach his eyes.