"I am sorry the other does not have it still. But at the same time, I benefit, so part of me is thankful," he sighs, pulling Jibril close, kissing him lightly.
Jibril almost opens his mouth to say Samer did still have a part of his
heart. That he would probably always have despite everything. In the end,
Samer’s love for him had made him do the right thing it just hadn’t
mattered.
Instead of saying anything he pushed away at the grief he tries to ignore
most of the time and kisses Rhy. The prince wouldn’t want to hear him mourn
a lost boy.
No, he would. Rhy pulls back from the kiss and looks at the man, his attention instead on the guy's face. There is definitely something going on. Interesting.
"Tell me about this man you loved. If you loved him, I love him."
Jibril looked down, his brow furrowing and there’s hesitance.
“His name was Samer and we were from the same place in Syria. We were best
friends and when my mother died... he was all I had left,” Jibril smiles a
little. Samer who made sure he was okay, who helped him learn how to
survive with no home.
“We would lay together, even in the desert. He would read the little prince
to me, using a feather as a book mark. He read it so much,” he murmurs.
“The last time, when our hands touched, I tried to kiss him and he reminded
me his father expected him to have a wife and children... he was a dutiful
son.”
Jibril frowns. “He was so serious... but he followed me when I wanted to
follow Al-Masih. He stayed with me for so long as he were starving in the
desert but...”
he hesitated and then shakes his head. “Then a man came and recruited him
to a man he said would train him to be a good Muslim. He didn’t say
goodbye. He took the book and left the feather while I slept. I thought I’d
never see him again. Rhy. I wish sometimes that I hadn’t.”
The next part is the most difficult. “After I was taken into Isreal, some
Imams saw me as a promise and some saw me as ... something bad,” he
whispers. “An Imam made me memorize a speech because I wasn’t able to read
and I was about to give it... the mosque was full and in walked a man in a
vest. I saw him, his face. It was Samer. I stared at him. He was so
scared... I think he hasn’t wanted to be there. All I could say to him was
God is the greatest. it only took a second once he saw me but he
dropped the button. He wasn’t going to...”
Jibril trails off, sure Rhy could understand.
“But there was someone with a remote...” Jibril’s face contorted with the
memory of what he’d seen. “Almost everyone died. I should have died.”
That would explain some of Jibril’s scars. “Those groups... they prey on
young boys in poverty...ones without choices and they don’t know what it is
they are being given to.”
Jibril all but curls into Rhy but takes some strength and comfort from Rhy's arm. Jibril wonders if that's true. The marks on his body, he's never asked. Some stories should only be given freely, not requested after all.
"No. As soon as I could walk I ran away. I was surviving until you found me."
"As long as it's your voice I don't think I would grow tired of it," Jibril exhales and he still feels a buzz from the wine but the way he had been worked up is more soothed now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
Jibril almost opens his mouth to say Samer did still have a part of his heart. That he would probably always have despite everything. In the end, Samer’s love for him had made him do the right thing it just hadn’t mattered.
Instead of saying anything he pushed away at the grief he tries to ignore most of the time and kisses Rhy. The prince wouldn’t want to hear him mourn a lost boy.
no subject
"Tell me about this man you loved. If you loved him, I love him."
no subject
Jibril looked down, his brow furrowing and there’s hesitance.
“His name was Samer and we were from the same place in Syria. We were best friends and when my mother died... he was all I had left,” Jibril smiles a little. Samer who made sure he was okay, who helped him learn how to survive with no home.
“We would lay together, even in the desert. He would read the little prince to me, using a feather as a book mark. He read it so much,” he murmurs. “The last time, when our hands touched, I tried to kiss him and he reminded me his father expected him to have a wife and children... he was a dutiful son.”
Jibril frowns. “He was so serious... but he followed me when I wanted to follow Al-Masih. He stayed with me for so long as he were starving in the desert but...”
he hesitated and then shakes his head. “Then a man came and recruited him to a man he said would train him to be a good Muslim. He didn’t say goodbye. He took the book and left the feather while I slept. I thought I’d never see him again. Rhy. I wish sometimes that I hadn’t.”
The next part is the most difficult. “After I was taken into Isreal, some Imams saw me as a promise and some saw me as ... something bad,” he whispers. “An Imam made me memorize a speech because I wasn’t able to read and I was about to give it... the mosque was full and in walked a man in a vest. I saw him, his face. It was Samer. I stared at him. He was so scared... I think he hasn’t wanted to be there. All I could say to him was God is the greatest. it only took a second once he saw me but he dropped the button. He wasn’t going to...”
Jibril trails off, sure Rhy could understand.
“But there was someone with a remote...” Jibril’s face contorted with the memory of what he’d seen. “Almost everyone died. I should have died.”
That would explain some of Jibril’s scars. “Those groups... they prey on young boys in poverty...ones without choices and they don’t know what it is they are being given to.”
no subject
"Oh my love, my darling. So great is the weight of your suffering. I am so sorry. Never have a known a pain like yours."
Says the man with horrid scars over his heart and the silvery-white mark of the magic burned into his body.
"I am so sorry. Have you had the chance to grieve for him?"
no subject
"No. As soon as I could walk I ran away. I was surviving until you found me."
no subject
no subject
"I've... never had time to honor anyone... I covered my mother's body in rocks when she died..."
His life felt like it had always been surrounded by death and yet he doesn't know how to deal with the after because he never had time to.
no subject
Because Rhy would hate it if he could not grieve those he loved.
no subject
"I think my mother would just want me to live a good life... and Samer..."
He exhales.
"Read to me."
no subject
"I will read you anything, my love. And everything."
no subject
Jibril bites his lip and it's painful to talk about Samer out loud even if it had been brief. He had half expected to make Rhy cross with him.
"Thank you," he murmurs and he's realizing how much he truly loves this prince and how much it will hurt when this has to end at some point.
no subject
no subject
"I would like to hear it."
no subject
no subject
cool to close?