[ kaveh sits up. it's impossible for alhaitham's eyes to not follow that liquid motion. the setting of a golden sun casts ribbons of light across the obscene pale of kaveh's skin. the blankets shift around him like the beginnings of a wanton whirlpool. and alhaitham is only a man, just a man, and he is bleeding. the air tastes of honey and blood. perhaps that has always been what history distilled down to, the desires of mankind and the bloodshed to obtain it. alhaitham, who has chosen a different path, merely looks.
the question evokes no imagery and invokes no thought. there has never been any need. alhaitham has always known his own measure; he would not be alhaitham otherwise. ]
Ask me that question again when you want me.
[ it comes not as a plea, nor a demand. it comes not as a question or a statement. it comes as everything and nothing all at once - alhaitham, standing at the edge of a gulf of his own making, and choosing to place the key where kaveh can reach.
the knock on the door is visceral. alhaitham bares his teeth. he then systematically remembers himself. gone is the deep, emanating growl and the press of his nails to the bloody shreds of his palm; his body shifts as the crucible of his self-control clamps down with bloodless finality, and he goes to the door in three, long strides. the door is opened but a crack. his head is bowed. words are exchange, and then some.
when he retreats, it's first to allow the door to close before he turns. alhaitham has in his hands a package wrapped in cloth. ]
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2023-06-11 09:44 pm (UTC)the question evokes no imagery and invokes no thought. there has never been any need. alhaitham has always known his own measure; he would not be alhaitham otherwise. ]
Ask me that question again when you want me.
[ it comes not as a plea, nor a demand. it comes not as a question or a statement. it comes as everything and nothing all at once - alhaitham, standing at the edge of a gulf of his own making, and choosing to place the key where kaveh can reach.
the knock on the door is visceral. alhaitham bares his teeth. he then systematically remembers himself. gone is the deep, emanating growl and the press of his nails to the bloody shreds of his palm; his body shifts as the crucible of his self-control clamps down with bloodless finality, and he goes to the door in three, long strides. the door is opened but a crack. his head is bowed. words are exchange, and then some.
when he retreats, it's first to allow the door to close before he turns. alhaitham has in his hands a package wrapped in cloth. ]
Kaveh. Do not leave the bed.