Chapter Text
Prompt: Instinct
Jet's always had a feel for it—which direction his target's gonna move, how the branches will break under his weight, when to smile, and when to back away. He's had years to practice, and plenty of different opportunities, between the forest and the kids and what was left of his home. So he knows—feels—when to touch Li's shoulder, when to give him a half-smile of assurance, and when to lean back against the wall.
"No," Li says softly. "I guess we don't really have plans."
Smile. Smile and glance away, then look back again. Except Jet doesn't meet Li's eyes the way he'd planned—instead his stare falls on Li's lips, as his thin pink tongue darts out to wet them.
"Bet I could help you find something to do," Jet says, answering an impulse to speak, to step a little closer, to reach up and smooth the strap of Li's sword sheath from where it twisted on his shoulder. Li breathes in sharply, a slight flush rising up his throat, and Jet knows now is the time to back away, to slap the smile on and laugh, gently. "Hey, I think your uncle's wandering off again."
Li collects the old man, exasperation hiding his blush.
"We'll get you tea in the city," he says. "I don't even think that stuff was warm."
"Such a waste," the old man sighs.
"C'mon, then," Jet says. "I say we see what this city's got."
He slings the meager bags over his shoulder and sets off. He can't help grinning a bit, when he hears Li fall in line right behind him.