Crooked Kingdom (Six of Crows, #2)

by Leigh Bardugo

And if there was another reason, a tall, lanky reason with a too-strong taste for games of chance, he wasn’t going to think about that right now.

Please go there. I ship it. So hard.

“Don’t worry, Da. People point guns at each other all the time in Ketterdam. It’s basically a handshake.” “Is that true?” his father asked as the scholar grudgingly moved aside and they shoved the heavy desk in front of the door. “Absolutely,” said Wylan. “Certainly not,” said the scholar. Jesper waved them on. “Depends on the neighborhood. Let’s go.”

XD

“Wise words,” said a voice from the corner. Kaz and Wylan whirled. The lamps flared brightly, flooding the room with light, and a figure emerged from a niche in the opposite wall that hadn’t been there a moment before: Pekka Rollins, a smug grin on his ruddy face, bracketed by a cluster of Dime Lions all carrying pistols, saps, and axe handles. “Kaz Brekker,” Rollins mocked. “Philosopher crook.”

OH SHIT

“Thought of me? Late at night? What was I wearing?” “I’ve thought about your powers,” Wylan said, cheeks flushing pinker. “Has it ever occurred to you that your Grisha ability might be part of the reason you’re such a good shot?”

JUST KISS ALREADY DAMMIT

“Again,” Wylan said, and when Jesper opened his mouth to take another breath, Wylan leaned forward and kissed him.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS

He would sit in a room fabrikating the color out of a carpet, or take target practice, or have Wylan tie him to a chair if he had to.

I don't think Jesper would mind the last point.

Jesper leaned back on the pianoforte, resting on his elbows. “Let’s see. Live in a luxurious merch mansion, get waited on by servants, spend a little extra time with a budding demolitions expert who plays a mean flute? I guess I can manage it.” Jesper’s eyes traveled from the top of Wylan’s red-gold curls to the tips of his toes and back again. “But I do charge a pretty steep fee.” Wylan flushed a magnificent shade of pink. “Well, hopefully the medik will be here to fix my ribs soon,” he said as he headed back into the parlor. “Yeah?” “Yes,” said Wylan, glancing briefly over his shoulder, his cheeks now red as cherries. “I’d like to make a down payment.”

This makes my soul happy