Nina Zenik was a vivacious young woman. Everyone who came into contact with her would note the sparkle in her eyes and the mischievous tilt of her smile. They spoke of her wit and sharp intellect and how she could make anyone feel as if they were her closest confidante, even if they'd only known her for five minutes.

Nina was welcomed everywhere all the time. She was constantly stopped in the streets to be greeted and made small talk with her friends. She was always sought out to be partnered for any job. It was safe to say everyone loved Nina.

So it caused quite a bit of confusion among anyone who ran into her and saw the tall, broad-shouldered man who veritably loomed over her like a storm.

Matthias Helvar was a boor. Some would even describe him as one step above a caveman. He was the complete opposite of Nina in every way. No one could figure out what a man like him was doing with a woman like Nina.

(Most days he didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky either.)

Instead of smiling, he glared and scowled and brooded. He had none of the ease that Nina had, always tense, arms crossed in front of him. He rarely spoke to anyone, and when he did, the sentences were as short as he could make them while remaining understood. To be around Matthias gave one the feeling that an attack was imminent at all times.

He rarely mingled in social settings and when Nina went out for drinks with the other Grisha, he would always come at the end of the night to collect her. The others would whisper behind their hands to each other that he must be controlling or jealous. They gave Nina smiles of pity when she bid them goodbye and exited on Matthias's arm. They spoke about what a shame it was to see someone as full of life as Nina stuck with someone who was a stick in the mud like Matthias.

Maybe he'd forced her into it. Maybe he was blackmailing her. Maybe Nina had some debt to pay off to Matthias. Each theory floating among the Second Army was wilder than the rest.

Nina knew. And Matthias knew. But the Grisha had never seen Matthias when they weren't around to gawk at him.

They didn't see Matthias teaching the young Grisha how to fight the way Nina did. She would hide in the trees and watch the way Matthias would lift them off the ground every time they fell and ruffled their hair. The way Matthias gave out hugs whenever they were hurt and and whispered comforting words in their ear.

The Grisha didn't hear the peals of laughter as the children chased after Matthias or giggled at his jokes, or the way he pretended to be fatally wounded to make them feel better about their hits.

Nina got to see the children sitting cross-legged, watching him with rapt attention as Matthias carefully went through the motions of maneuvers. And the way they would ooh and ahh when Matthias told them Fjerdan fairytales and about his own adventures.

Nina often left her bruises from training on her for no other reason than she wanted to watch Matthias cluck over her in that motherhenish way of his that she adored so much. The way he would gingerly lift her arms and legs, press on her ribs to make sure they didn't hurt. She liked watching the concentration on his face as he carefully prepared warm damp towels to wipe her down with, or the way he wrapped her in blankets in front of a fire and surrounded her with pillows. She liked that he brought her dozens of mugs of tea, even though she would always tell him she didn't need that many. Nina liked that Matthias would brush her hair, or attempt a clumsy braid on the days when she complained that she couldn't lift her arms long enough to do it herself.

(And she drank each and every one of them.)

People didn't get to see Matthias when he was reading by a fire, a serious look on his face as his eyes darted across the page. Or the way his solemn expression transformed when Nina brought him cookies as a snack and he would smile at her like she had given him the stars herself.

No one saw the way his pale face flushed pink when she asked him what he was reading that had put such a serious look on his face, and Matthias shyly admitted it was a romance novel. They didn't see the way Matthias's shoulders hunched when Nina let out a bark of laughter in surprise. She had to crawl her way into his lap and wrap her arms around his neck and tease him about being a closet romantic.

He'd stuttered about how he'd accidentally come across a romance novel while looking for a text on Fjerda's military history, and now he couldn't stop reading them. In his defense, he swore there was some sort of drug in them to keep him coming back for more. Nina had run her fingers through his thick, blonde hair and told him she found it sweet and charming.

(And made her want to do a whole host of other things that Fjerdan women wouldn't do.)

The other Grisha didn't see the beautiful flowers Matthias brought her at the end of every week because he liked the way she would turn pink with pleasure. Or the way he would huff when Nina would throw her arms around him and shower kisses all over his face to show her appreciation.

Nina's favourite version of Matthias was the one when they went to bed. He fell asleep before her and while Nina tried to get her thoughts to slow down enough to drift off into dreams, Matthias would snuggle behind her. He would throw his arm around her waist and pull her in close to his chest. His face would burrow in the crook of her neck and he would press his lips into the soft skin, sending a shiver through Nina. And he would always, always, let out a grunt of content and melt into the mattress, weighing down Nina and warming her through.

Nina got to see Matthias when he woke up in the morning, groggy with sleep and warm as a fire. Somehow he would always manage to spread himself over her like a blanket even more than he did at the start of the night. Matthias smelled so nice and he looked so vulnerable, it made Nina's heart squeeze just looking at him.

On the rare occasion that Nina had a nightmare, he would bring her back to the present with gentle strokes to her back, he'd smooth her hair back, and whisper words of comfort into her ear. And he would hold her until the shaking stopped and her breath returned to normal. He'd let Nina cling to him like he was a teddy bear, and he'd let her cry, and Matthias would never mention it or bring it up again in the morning. And Nina always acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and refused to speak on it.

When he came to pick her up from the bar because she was drunk, it was never because Matthias was controlling or had given her a curfew. In fact, if Nina hadn't asked him to come for her every time, Matthias would've let her stay as long as she wanted with her friends and then seen her the next morning.

Matthias made her feel safe and something about Drunk Nina wanted to see his tall, broad shouldered frame fill out a doorway and feel the thrill of knowing that he was there for her. That he was all hers and no one else's. That she was the lucky recipient of his attention and his fussing for that evening.

Seeing him made Nina think of home and suddenly made her want nothing more than to say goodbye and have Matthias take her home and take her to bed. And that's what she would do, she'd hastily give her goodbyes to her friends and meet Matthias when he was halfway to her, throw her arms around him and steered them out the door.

"You know, it just makes them think I'm some sort of tyrant who keeps you under lock and key," he said to her one night as they made their slow path back to their room. Nina was too busy breathing in the spring air and looking up at the night sky to give too much thought to anyone besides Matthias.

"Does it bother you that they think that?" she asked him.

"No, I don't care if your Grisha do not like me. I am not here for them. Does it bother you?" he asked her in return.

"No, I don't care what they think of you. All that matters is what I think of you," she replied, tightening her grip on their twined fingers. "And I think you're the best man I know."

a/n: please i have yet to start crooked kingdom but i already know how these two end i have to grieve. but in the meantime, there is this. cheers!