﴾ jamil's gaze flicks heavenwards, but he's not forgotten himself enough to go for a full eye roll. no matter how rough things have gotten in the past few weeks, at least he has that — his mind is completely his own, not a single dark whisper or twisted compulsion left since his speedy recovery. (y'know, beyond the normal ones.) ﴿
A thousand thanks, but I do not believe you will be able to survive on occasionally-stirred soup alone.
﴾ over his dead body, in fact. jamil has his justifications, playing nice with someone who could effectively end his entire family's prospects by speaking even a single unfortunate word about what transpired over break, but they're flimsy. kalim didn't talk for jade, he won't for anyone else either. his loyalty ended up narcing jamil out just the same, but that's more of an excuse to be pissy than anything concrete.
and so jamil looks sour — but relieved — when kalim's fingers fall over his wrist. it brings him closer before he can mute the compulsion, just near enough to be a presence of scent and breath on kalim's skin. ﴿
My duties do not end when it is convenient for me. Neither do yours.
﴾ how unfortunate that all these barbs he's throwing have soft, silken edges, that every word he speaks betrays itself with the fondness in his tone. though that's not quite the word for it, either. there is something wicked curing in that smile that is pressed nearly up against kalim's lips, like the rattling of a snake's tail before it strikes. ﴿
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A thousand thanks, but I do not believe you will be able to survive on occasionally-stirred soup alone.
﴾ over his dead body, in fact. jamil has his justifications, playing nice with someone who could effectively end his entire family's prospects by speaking even a single unfortunate word about what transpired over break, but they're flimsy. kalim didn't talk for jade, he won't for anyone else either. his loyalty ended up narcing jamil out just the same, but that's more of an excuse to be pissy than anything concrete.
and so jamil looks sour — but relieved — when kalim's fingers fall over his wrist. it brings him closer before he can mute the compulsion, just near enough to be a presence of scent and breath on kalim's skin. ﴿
My duties do not end when it is convenient for me. Neither do yours.
﴾ how unfortunate that all these barbs he's throwing have soft, silken edges, that every word he speaks betrays itself with the fondness in his tone. though that's not quite the word for it, either. there is something wicked curing in that smile that is pressed nearly up against kalim's lips, like the rattling of a snake's tail before it strikes. ﴿
Come to bed.