[Kalim is smooth and soft and inviting, as his fingertips brush his lips Jamil inhales - sharp, crisp, it feels like a shout for how quiet the desert is around them - and there's a part of him that wants nothing more than to take the moment and dive into it. But, at the same time, it doesn't feel like it's his moment, it's Kalim's moment, extended.

Jamil smells jasmine. He brushes a bit of hair from Kalim's forehead - it isn't as if he has much of anything to brush away, it's touching for the sake of touching. The night is still, and they've never done anything right, ever, not unless-

-and he takes Kalim's hand and pulls him into another dance, a simple box-step waltz, at least at first, him counting out the steps until Kalim knows well enough to follow as there's no music, just instinct and Jamil's voice, counting-]

One, two three, one, two, three-

[And once he's confident in Kalim following his lead.]

I think you forgot. I only remembered because Najma was excited when it that one award. Some teen's choice award?