[ for the step that kaveh takes back, alhaitham matches it, follows him because this time, he refuses to back down. the advance doesn't last long though, because the blonde's back is soon up against the adjoining wall with no room left to retreat.
for all the similarities the situation bore to the one the previous night, the scribe doesn't look furious like he did then - he looks pissed, but with the undertones of being hurt rather than simply frustrated at loud, drunken antics. unlike kaveh, alhaitham remembers and correlates every detail between the two arguments; the expression on kaveh's face, the words that had been yelled, the feeling of his weight and warmth against his shoulder.
and so, too, alhaitham catalogues those details now, like a decent academic would. the fire that kaveh had ignited thrums through his veins as his eyes drag over every inch of the other from the chin up - the slight sheen on his lips, the blonde locks of hair that would normally be braided up and out of sight now framing his face... the dark marks on his neck, hiding just out of view and largely obscured by the fact his hair was down.
the intense gaze lingers over them for longer than anything else, the flash of something possessive flickering across the scribe's face as he reaches up to run his thumb over one of the worst - a particularly egregious mark marring the skin just above kaveh's collarbone.
he doesn't even think about it, he'd argue. doesn't even think about how soft the skin is under his fingers or the jolt of electricity that spikes through him as they connect, because all he can think about is that someone else did this to him. ]
If you haven't toyed with me: you didn't come into the study like this for any reason other than simply being lazy?
[ alhaitham murmurs, voice low and even. he's still looking at the mark. ]
no subject
for all the similarities the situation bore to the one the previous night, the scribe doesn't look furious like he did then - he looks pissed, but with the undertones of being hurt rather than simply frustrated at loud, drunken antics. unlike kaveh, alhaitham remembers and correlates every detail between the two arguments; the expression on kaveh's face, the words that had been yelled, the feeling of his weight and warmth against his shoulder.
and so, too, alhaitham catalogues those details now, like a decent academic would. the fire that kaveh had ignited thrums through his veins as his eyes drag over every inch of the other from the chin up - the slight sheen on his lips, the blonde locks of hair that would normally be braided up and out of sight now framing his face... the dark marks on his neck, hiding just out of view and largely obscured by the fact his hair was down.
the intense gaze lingers over them for longer than anything else, the flash of something possessive flickering across the scribe's face as he reaches up to run his thumb over one of the worst - a particularly egregious mark marring the skin just above kaveh's collarbone.
he doesn't even think about it, he'd argue. doesn't even think about how soft the skin is under his fingers or the jolt of electricity that spikes through him as they connect, because all he can think about is that someone else did this to him. ]
If you haven't toyed with me: you didn't come into the study like this for any reason other than simply being lazy?
[ alhaitham murmurs, voice low and even. he's still looking at the mark. ]