[ he shouldn't have expected any less - after all, they were (to their detriment) both the type of person who would use spite as a motivator, who would do the exact opposite of what they're told if there was a pot to stir or hackles to raise. alhaitham simply stares down his nose at kaveh, the feathered touch against his lip threatening to begin cracking his resolve - but the scribe had a will of steel, which was a requirement for orbiting the blonde in the first place. ]

It was punctuation to a point. [ he states flatly, hooded turquoise eyes flickering with the beginnings of a dark heat. ] The point being, you flaunting yourself being tangled up in someone else simply to crawl under my skin. Kicking down a door seemed justified.

[ the hand on kaveh's lower back sinks further southwards, looping around the angular jut of his hips and pulling him flush against him in a strong movement, arm flexing. recalling the previous night still stirred up a tempest of feelings too wild for him to entirely control, and there's a flash of something unreadable that crosses his face as his other hand raises to hold kaveh's chin.

their faces are so close there's only a hair's breadth and change between them, giving alhaitham a captive audience. ]

I'd do it again. [ the scribe murmurs, voice low and husky. he repeats; ] I'd do it again because I was emphatically correct - the only person who should be touching you is me.

[ long fingers curl into the muscle of kaveh's backside possessively as his eyes meet the blonde's crimson unflinchingly. ]

Do you disagree?