[ the man shakes free of alhaitham's grip, clearly not intimidated in the least by someone who had already demonstrated their strength towards him - and the scribe is about to reply with some scathing words about his 'right to be here' when the asshole just. grabs the architect suggestively, much to kaveh's abject horror.
that kind of transgression combined with such slimy, nauseating words makes alhaitham instantly stiffen, a cool, white fury snaking its way through his veins as his partner takes a step back in an attempt to escape; to get away from assault.
what happens next is purely instinctual, metered only by the fact that some part of his rational self is dimly aware they're still very much in public and that attention even on the fringes of such a lively party would still be relatively easy to draw. but nonetheless, a flash of green crosses the scribe's scowl almost faster than can be perceived as the heady sense of energy starts to lay heavy in the air - and in a fluid movement, alhaitham grabs the vahumana scholar by both shoulders and bodily shoves him back towards the side hall they'd just left a few moments ago. ]
Get over here.
[ he hisses, following the stumbling man into the relative darkness of the hallway in a stalk that resembled a carnivore circling their prey. what this piece of shit had to say about him, alhaitham couldn't care less - insults to him were like oil on water, and he'd been privy to enough of them over the years from those who disliked him. jerk, loner, cold, emotionless - he'd heard it all, and he couldn't give less of a shit.
but to have the audacity to touch his partner so intimately - against his will - it made the logic in his mind simply short circuit into fury, the taller man catching up with the culprit in question as they moved out of direct eyeline of the other partygoers.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?", the other splutters as he regains his footing and straightens out his robes, disheveled from the sheer force the scribe had shoved him with. "You have no right -"
despite being a scholar of words, alhaitham has had entirely enough of talking, and before the other can even manage to get a full sentence out, muscles flex fluidly under linen and he throws a solid punch straight at the man's face. ]
no subject
that kind of transgression combined with such slimy, nauseating words makes alhaitham instantly stiffen, a cool, white fury snaking its way through his veins as his partner takes a step back in an attempt to escape; to get away from assault.
what happens next is purely instinctual, metered only by the fact that some part of his rational self is dimly aware they're still very much in public and that attention even on the fringes of such a lively party would still be relatively easy to draw. but nonetheless, a flash of green crosses the scribe's scowl almost faster than can be perceived as the heady sense of energy starts to lay heavy in the air - and in a fluid movement, alhaitham grabs the vahumana scholar by both shoulders and bodily shoves him back towards the side hall they'd just left a few moments ago. ]
Get over here.
[ he hisses, following the stumbling man into the relative darkness of the hallway in a stalk that resembled a carnivore circling their prey. what this piece of shit had to say about him, alhaitham couldn't care less - insults to him were like oil on water, and he'd been privy to enough of them over the years from those who disliked him. jerk, loner, cold, emotionless - he'd heard it all, and he couldn't give less of a shit.
but to have the audacity to touch his partner so intimately - against his will - it made the logic in his mind simply short circuit into fury, the taller man catching up with the culprit in question as they moved out of direct eyeline of the other partygoers.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?", the other splutters as he regains his footing and straightens out his robes, disheveled from the sheer force the scribe had shoved him with. "You have no right -"
despite being a scholar of words, alhaitham has had entirely enough of talking, and before the other can even manage to get a full sentence out, muscles flex fluidly under linen and he throws a solid punch straight at the man's face. ]