Kalim's heart skips a beat, and he glances down. no, no, this isn't good. Jamil's just humoring him, he can't just--
he can't just look up at him like a lovesick puppy. but he wants to. still, he glances away, seeming to think. ]
There are a couple of places that have music, even musicians in the streets. I think you'd enjoy dancing to some of them, too. So, even if we're trapped here... It's not so bad.
I'll just have to take your word for it, for now. After so long here, I'm sure you've found a few favorite places to show off.
[Something curdles and knots tight in the pit of his stomach, cold and bitter like grief--but somehow, he doesn't have the heart to scold or lecture while they're sitting together like this. Even if that's a hopelessly naive perspective..... it's still a sincere one. Kalim probably is able to allow himself to be fairly happy here. But him.....
He can't forget about the bracelet binding his wrist like a shackle, or the collar cinched around Kalim's neck like a noose. He can't forget that every privilege he's being allowed--no, being forced upon him--is a double-edged and poisoned blade, that he's truly no more free than Kalim is now. Nothing he has is truly his own anymore, even what the Scalding Sands had once had no right to take from him. He may not be as poorly off as Kalim is--but it certainly feels as though he's more acutely aware of the harsh realities of their predicament.
It isn't as though he'll be able to do anything about it anytime soon, though..... So sure, why not look around at the musicians Kalim has found sometime? Maybe they'll make things feel a little more bearable.]
no subject
Kalim's heart skips a beat, and he glances down. no, no, this isn't good. Jamil's just humoring him, he can't just--
he can't just look up at him like a lovesick puppy. but he wants to. still, he glances away, seeming to think. ]
There are a couple of places that have music, even musicians in the streets. I think you'd enjoy dancing to some of them, too. So, even if we're trapped here... It's not so bad.
no subject
[Something curdles and knots tight in the pit of his stomach, cold and bitter like grief--but somehow, he doesn't have the heart to scold or lecture while they're sitting together like this. Even if that's a hopelessly naive perspective..... it's still a sincere one. Kalim probably is able to allow himself to be fairly happy here. But him.....
He can't forget about the bracelet binding his wrist like a shackle, or the collar cinched around Kalim's neck like a noose. He can't forget that every privilege he's being allowed--no, being forced upon him--is a double-edged and poisoned blade, that he's truly no more free than Kalim is now. Nothing he has is truly his own anymore, even what the Scalding Sands had once had no right to take from him. He may not be as poorly off as Kalim is--but it certainly feels as though he's more acutely aware of the harsh realities of their predicament.
It isn't as though he'll be able to do anything about it anytime soon, though..... So sure, why not look around at the musicians Kalim has found sometime? Maybe they'll make things feel a little more bearable.]