#jamil fic

Floyd: Dance with me Seasnake

Jamil: What?

Floyd: I want you to dance with me. Make tonight worthwhile.

Jamil: You people, all three of you... are completely insufferable.

Floyd: Shall we?

Jamil: I didn't take you for such a romantic.

Floyd: Heh.

                                       𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄.

i have watched KALIM AL-ASIM grow up my whole life; ever since the  first  memory i can recall,  the two of us have been together.

all this time,  i’ve been watching from afar.  witnessing his wealth, his status, his charisma, his smiles, his positive outlook.  there had always been a grinding  sense of irritation that followed each of these,  but i could never pinpoint the exact emotion that it was eliciting. something in my mind told me that he was doing it  on purpose,   all of it was  personally  to irritate me.  an irrational thought,  but one does not tend to think with perfect ration when under emotional stress.  with that joy of his,  came my suffering. holding myself back,  i could never  outgrow  him,  no matter how small the shoes. 

he has witnessed me almost die for him;  i have witnessed him almost die  for  me. 

two quite different situations,  but there was no use thinking too deeply on them; not if we were going to forgive & forget.   his words,  not mine. 

if things were to be considered  unforgivable,   it would have seemed as if it were with intention – the kind that i didn’t know that i had.  perhaps i never meant to hurt him,  but in my own …

it didn’t matter,   it didn’t happen anyways. 

kalim al-asim was equally as  resilient  as he was annoying.  hearing him crying when he should have been filled with the same kind of  meaningless  irritation i had been each time he smiled;  i wasn’t sure what to think.  an idiot maybe.  either that,  or somewhere along the line  –  the loyalty that i was intended to have for him was instilled  backwards.   whichever it was,  he’s an exceptionally  difficult person to stay angered with.  it cleared up one account.  this emotion was not anger.

after all was ‘well’  it would seem, attempted changes had been made.  i was not caring for him the same way i was before  –  in some ways yes,  in some ways no.  i was still  worrying  just the same.  those kinds of  decades worth of ritual habits didn’t fade away in a week.  while i knew that he was going to dress himself in the morning,  i still  worried  about whether all of his clothes were pressed  –  if they were set out correctly.  would he be able to tie his turban?  he could never quite get it right.  when i see him that morning,  his appearance looking messy as expected.  it’s not with disdain that i fix where he went wrong.  that’s not the correct emotion either. 

that stupid smile that he wears when he  thanks  me is disarming.  it makes me think that maybe sometimes,  looking out for him is not so bad.  not enough for me to relinquish my newfound independence,  it means far too much to me.   though once in a while … it may not be so bad.

until i realize,  we are in class.  it’s the same smile that is given in every situation.  there’s an inherent  warmth behind it,  i can swear it’s there when aimed at me.  that, or his naivety has rubbed off on me all of these years.   regardless  – this is undoubtedly the  same  smile.  down to the slight creases in his eyes.  it’s with that; the feeling,  the  exact  familiar emotion wells up inside of me.  this time it’s not difficult to pinpoint.  it’s been the same one all along.

it’s not anger,  nor disdain for the prince.  but jealousy.