[There's a plea upon Kalim's lips, one that Jamil can't help but hear, but understand, but taste and touch and feel: stay. It's consuming. He doesn't know how to respond to it just yet, as he's starting to understand two things.
The first, that he needs his freedom as otherwise he'll die, metaphorically or literally. That things the way they had been would smother him, devour him, that something important would die inside of him, that he would wake up at fifty and realize that he had achieved nothing in his life if things continued the way they had been.
The second, however, is that freedom-as-he-had-envisioned-it would also kill something important inside of him. (Jamil had fantasized about it, about finally bending the knee and making a trade with Azul: something for the promise of going somewhere far away, where no one - the Al-Asims, Azul himself, even Malleus - could find him.) His fantasized idea of freedom? It would also kill him.
And so here he is, confronted by a plea, to stay, and he doesn't know how to answer it. He doesn't know what to say. Words had never been his forte, at least not when they actually mattered. He could charm and manipulate and deflect, he could bring order from chaos, but Jamil didn't know what to say when it actually mattered. Like now.
Fortunately- and it's funny, not that long ago he wouldn't have called a situation like this fortunate, but it's fortunate in this case. They're kissing. Jamil can't talk, and he doesn't want to talk. He can't answer Kalim's unvoiced plea, and he doesn't have to.
Instead, his fingers dig into Kalim's body (Later, he'd be embarrassed to remember where his left hand had ended up, but that would be later. For now, all he knows is that he wants to hold onto Kalim, fingers sinking in like he's some wild thing holding tight to his prey, and it doesn't matter if he's touching a thigh, a waist, a hip, or...something else.) Instead, he pulls Kalim close, holds him close, greedily keeping him from Scarabia, Night Raven College, the world. Greedy, selfish, and for one wild moment (Jamil groans, soft, muffled) he fantasizes about a future in which he bargains his everything with Azul in exchange for him and Kalim going somewhere far away, beyond the reach of the Al-Asims, Azul himself, Malleus, all the powers that would try to find Kalim, where he could keep Kalim for his own.
He couldn't, and he wouldn't, but he imagines that and his fingers curl into Kalim's body and squeeze as they kiss.]
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The first, that he needs his freedom as otherwise he'll die, metaphorically or literally. That things the way they had been would smother him, devour him, that something important would die inside of him, that he would wake up at fifty and realize that he had achieved nothing in his life if things continued the way they had been.
The second, however, is that freedom-as-he-had-envisioned-it would also kill something important inside of him. (Jamil had fantasized about it, about finally bending the knee and making a trade with Azul: something for the promise of going somewhere far away, where no one - the Al-Asims, Azul himself, even Malleus - could find him.) His fantasized idea of freedom? It would also kill him.
And so here he is, confronted by a plea, to stay, and he doesn't know how to answer it. He doesn't know what to say. Words had never been his forte, at least not when they actually mattered. He could charm and manipulate and deflect, he could bring order from chaos, but Jamil didn't know what to say when it actually mattered. Like now.
Fortunately- and it's funny, not that long ago he wouldn't have called a situation like this fortunate, but it's fortunate in this case. They're kissing. Jamil can't talk, and he doesn't want to talk. He can't answer Kalim's unvoiced plea, and he doesn't have to.
Instead, his fingers dig into Kalim's body (Later, he'd be embarrassed to remember where his left hand had ended up, but that would be later. For now, all he knows is that he wants to hold onto Kalim, fingers sinking in like he's some wild thing holding tight to his prey, and it doesn't matter if he's touching a thigh, a waist, a hip, or...something else.) Instead, he pulls Kalim close, holds him close, greedily keeping him from Scarabia, Night Raven College, the world. Greedy, selfish, and for one wild moment (Jamil groans, soft, muffled) he fantasizes about a future in which he bargains his everything with Azul in exchange for him and Kalim going somewhere far away, beyond the reach of the Al-Asims, Azul himself, Malleus, all the powers that would try to find Kalim, where he could keep Kalim for his own.
He couldn't, and he wouldn't, but he imagines that and his fingers curl into Kalim's body and squeeze as they kiss.]