[They dance, a few dramatic turns, arms moving tighter and tighter around each other, the world and the music further and further away from Jamil's notice. The only thing he notices is, as always, Kalim. If Kalim was the sun he would be his moon. If Kalim was the moon, he'd be the ocean, his restless tides at the mercy of Kalim's whims. If Jamil tried to fly away (and he knew that he had, and that he would, again and again) he'd still find himself always returning to Kalim's side at the end. Again and again.
They danced, they drew closer and closer together, Kalim's hands sliding up to his shoulders, foreheads pressed together, he could almost taste Kalim's breath on his lips, and then-
And then Kalim faltered, in the end.
Jamil smiles, one of those merciless ones that- no, not like that. Not cruel, not exactly, but Kalim faltered, which meant that it was his turn to take the lead and make Kalim fight for it.]
You didn't forget how this dance ended, did you?
[Here he is, ignoring the question about choreography.]
no subject
They danced, they drew closer and closer together, Kalim's hands sliding up to his shoulders, foreheads pressed together, he could almost taste Kalim's breath on his lips, and then-
And then Kalim faltered, in the end.
Jamil smiles, one of those merciless ones that- no, not like that. Not cruel, not exactly, but Kalim faltered, which meant that it was his turn to take the lead and make Kalim fight for it.]
You didn't forget how this dance ended, did you?
[Here he is, ignoring the question about choreography.]
I didn't.