Chapter Text
Jamil knew he must have slept at some point, but he didn’t feel like he’d done more than blink a few times. Still, it was at least dawn, and he needed to keep up appearances.
Jamil dragged himself out of bed and got ready for the day. He didn’t do anything special to his braids or makeup, even though he would be getting married in a scant few hours. Maybe someday they would have a proper wedding, one with a banquet, and maybe even a parade, if only for old time’s sake.
He straightened his clothes out and pushed his braids over his shoulder. The letter he’d written to his parents, he set on his desk in easy view. It explained everything—why they were going, that they wouldn’t be coming back, that he loved them, that this was what he had to do—and still he wondered if it would be enough. Would they disown him for this?
He shook his head. His travel bag had been taken with their suitcases, but the papers and IDs they needed to get married were all tucked into his pockets, safe and secure, plus enough money in his wallet to pay their way in cash.
After a final check of his room, he headed to Kalim’s to follow his usual routine. Kalim hadn’t been back, the bed still made and the room empty, so Jamil headed instead for the kitchen.
He joined the hustle and bustle of prep work seamlessly, only a few people shooting him surprised looks. He kept an eye on the clock, but time crept slowly along, each minute seeming to drag longer.
And yet, all too soon, breakfast preparations were over, the kitchen was cleared as dishes were taken out to those who were already awake and ready for them.
Without Kalim in attendance, Jamil excused himself without any eyebrows raised. Whatever else had happened last night, Kalim and his mother didn’t come to breakfast.
Before Jamil could go looking for her, Najma looped an arm through his and winked. “Come on, you promised I could steal you this morning!”
Jamil rolled his eyes and moved as if he were only cooperating with what she wanted to do, conscious of the eyes on them. She shot him a curious look when they were away from the house.
“Nervous?” she asked softly.
“I honestly don’t know,” he admitted. “I can barely tell.”
“I’m surprised Kalim isn’t with you.”
“He slept in his mom’s rooms last night.” Jamil tried not to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t. “I think she took him to breakfast this morning.”
“You think?” Najma blinked. “Wow. What have you done with my brother?”
“What? We aren’t together all the time,” Jamil muttered.
“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “So if you had to guess which restaurant?”
“Baljah’s, probably.” Kalim liked their breakfast menu, even if he wasn’t usually up in time to enjoy it. Jamil sometimes picked some up for him when he’d earned a reward, though he supposed he wouldn’t be able to do that anymore.
Where would they live? What country would be safe while also providing the opportunity for both of them to thrive? Did Kalim have anywhere in mind?
What if they both grew homesick?
“Jamil?” Najma waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay?”
“Fine.” He cleared his throat. “Just… Lost in thought. Sorry. Did you say something?”
“No, just saying we should ask Kalim where they got breakfast to see if you might as well be together all the time.” Najma’s smile looked forced, but Jamil didn’t hold it against her. Change stressed him out too.
Jamil stopped walking and faced her. “I might not get the chance later, and I don’t want to regret anything,” he said. “I know I don’t say this enough, but I’m glad you’re my sister. No matter how things go or what happens after this, you always have a place with me, okay? No questions asked. I’m gonna miss you, you know?”
Najma’s lower lip wobbled. “I’m gonna miss you too.” She threw her arms around him. “What am I gonna do without my stupid big brother around? Who am I gonna destroy at racing games? Who’s gonna ask me for help when the boss battle is too hard?”
Jamil laughed and pet her hair. “Me. You’ll just have to come visit. We can talk on the phone any time you want. I know it’s not the same, but we’ll be okay. I’ll text you from my new number once we’re settled.”
Najma pulled back and bit her lip. “Jamil, actually, I—”
“Jamil!!!” Kalim threw himself into Jamil’s side, arms wrapping around both him and Najma. He squeezed them both tightly before he lifted his head again. “Hi, Najma.”
“Hi, Kalim.” She smiled. “Or should I call you big brother now?”
Kalim’s eyes went wide. “Oh yeah!” He laughed. “This makes you my sister now! Yay!”
Najma snorted. Whatever she’d been about to say, the moment had clearly passed. “Where did you and your mom get breakfast, by the way?”
“Baljah’s!” Kalim beamed. “Why?”
Najma laughed, and with a sigh, Jamil pulled out of the hug, gave a brief bow to Kalim’s mother, and ushered the two of them across the street to the courthouse.
“Keep it moving, let’s go.” Now that Kalim was here, everything felt too exposed. They weren’t in the clear just yet, not until their papers were all signed.
Before they stepped away, Jamil pulled out his usual cell phone—off, of course—and held it out to Mistress al-Asim. “Will you hold onto this? I don’t have a way to safely dispose of it right away.”
Kalim peered down at it curiously. “Your phone?”
“Give her yours too, Kalim.”
“What? How come?” Kalim asked.
“Your father would certainly be able to request location data from these,” Mistress al-Asim confirmed. “I’ll download your pictures for you, don’t worry.”
Mollified, Kalim handed her the phone.
“When we get settled, we’ll give you both our new phone numbers,” Jamil promised. “Don’t panic if it takes a few weeks.”
Najma pouted, but didn’t argue, and Mistress al-Asim only nodded, understanding clear in her eyes. They still needed to dump the first burner phones, but they could do that before they teleported.
He and Kalim then walked alone into the clerk’s office, and Jamil pulled the paperwork out of his breast pocket. They were asked questions and asked for ID, handed more forms, asked more questions, asked for payment, and then they were handed two manila envelopes, one with proof of the change in power of attorney and one with their marriage license, ready to be filled out.
Jamil paid for everything in cash before they were on their way across the front hall toward the courtrooms themselves. Their appointment was with a sympathetic justice of the peace, one he trusted couldn’t be bought.
The four of them waited quietly for a time before their name was called, and then it all moved in a blur. Jamil could barely remember the justice speaking, couldn’t remember what vows he agreed to, could barely remember repeating words back before saying ‘I do.’ Kalim’s voice briefly cut through the haze, but the only words Jamil registered were also, ‘I do.’
And then there was an expectant pause, and Jamil jumped to realize they were meant to kiss. Kalim’s eyes crinkled when he noticed and leaned forward. The kiss was sweet and simple, nothing more than mouths meeting in the middle.
And then they were filling out the marriage license, one of Kalim’s arms looped through his. Najma signed as a witness. Mistress al-Asim signed as a witness. Kalim and Jamil signed. And the justice scanned the page before finally signing it himself.
“Congratulations. I’ll file this at once. You keep this part,” he tore off the top of the form and handed it to Jamil who slipped it into the manila folder and tucked it away, “and we can send you a registered copy of the filed portion for your records on request.” The justice smiled warmly. “May your days together be happy and peaceful.”
“Thank you,” Kalim said. “You were wonderful today. I only wish we were able to have a banquet to celebrate so we could invite you to feast as a proper show of gratitude.”
The older man chuckled. “How kind.”
“Kalim, dear,” his mother said, smile exasperated. “We mustn’t keep the man. There are other people waiting to see him.”
“Yes! Of course.” Kalim gave a quick bow; Jamil mirrored him, still reeling. “Thank you again.”
“Yes,” Jamil echoed. “Thank you.”
Mistress al-Asim ushered them from the room, hand firm and grounding where it rested between Jamil’s shoulderblades. As they returned to the entrance, Jamil shook himself.
From here, they would proceed alone to Rook’s house, and from there, through the teleport—
“Jamil Viper!” his mother’s voice cried.
Jamil froze in place. His mother? “Mom?” Sure enough, his mother was standing outside the courthouse with—with Kalim’s father and a number of guards. Fuck. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I—?” Her face contorted with anger. “What are you doing here? I hoped that it wasn’t true, that Najma was mistaken, but—!”
“Najma?” Jamil asked.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, tears welling up. “I didn’t see the harm. I thought—She’s our mom, so—!”
“Enough of this foolishness,” Master al-Asim said, stepping to the front. “We are all going home now. Whatever was done, it can still be undone.”
Jamil ran through plan after plan, but he had nothing, no way out of this, no good ideas. He’d been trying to avoid it, especially in the state he was in, but if he had to use his Unique Magic and risk accumulating critical amounts of blot, then—
Kalim straightened at his side, chin raised and eyes hard. “No.” He whistled sharply, and in a dizzying move, he grabbed Jamil by the waist and tugged him onto unstable ground that immediately took to the sky. “I’m not sorry! And I’m not coming back! Love you, Mom! Bye, Najma!”
Jamil, startled beyond words, nearly giddy with relief, laughed to himself. The magic carpet. Of course. He laughed louder, head falling back as he sat down.
Before they got too far, he leaned toward the edge. “It’s all okay, Najma, like I said,” he shouted down. “And Master al-Asim, in case it wasn’t obvious, I quit!”
Jamil tugged Kalim into another kiss for luck, and then the carpet took off before the shock could wear off of the parents and guards below.
Kalim steered expertly, eyeing the buildings they passed. “Where are we going?”
Jamil glanced over the side before gesturing in the correct direction. He closed his eyes for a moment, laughter still periodically bubbling back up. “I’ve thought about doing that for years.”
“Kissing me? Or quitting?”
“Both. The carpet was a surprise.” Jamil pet the top affectionately.
“Mom said we could take it with us.” Kalim turned them when Jamil pointed a new direction. “She also gave me all the papers she said you wanted.”
“Oh, good.” Jamil had almost forgotten. That would have been embarrassing later. “We’ll need to get most of them reissued for you if we go through with changing your name, but it’ll be easier if we have all the original documents from the beginning.”
“So I really can be Kalim Viper?” he asked.
Jamil hummed. “Only if you’re serious about this. I won’t let you take that one back.”
“After all this,” Kalim said, drawing out the word ‘all,’ “you really think I’d let either of us just walk away? I’m not changing my mind, Jamil. I love you.”
“Then yes.” Jamil took his hand and squeezed it. “I want that, too.” His other hand was shaking.
Kalim picked the other hand up, squeezing lightly around his fingers. “Jamil?”
“I’m fine. Adrenaline, I think.” Jamil glanced down. “Oh, it’s that big house there.”
The carpet lowered obediently. Before they approached the house, Jamil raised a hand. “We need to get rid of the burner phones before we make the jump. Can you toss them in that garbage bin there?”
Kalim’s eyebrows rose. “These too?”
“I have another clean set waiting for us in my bag. They have all the same numbers loaded in as these did,” Jamil explained.
“Okay, then.” Kalim pulled his out of a pocket and took Jamil’s with it. Once they were tossed, he jogged back. Jamil let out a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about.
Their bags and luggage were waiting for them by the front door, tucked behind a pillar. Wadi really was a miracle worker.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kalim asked, concern lacing his tone.
“Positive.” Jamil’s legs shook as he walked up the front steps. “Let’s get out of here, and then we can deal with everything else. I’ll need something to eat, but I really am fine.”
“Okay,” Kalim murmured dubiously.
When Jamil reached for one of the bags, Kalim slapped lightly at his hand and picked it up himself. “Let me. You’re not feeling well.”
Jamil pursed his lips. “I’m—”
“You’re about to use a magical transport. Save your strength,” Kalim insisted.
He sighed. Unfortunately, that was a good point. “Yeah, all right.”
And maybe Kalim was right to worry, since they’d barely stepped through the teleport when Jamil’s legs completely gave out beneath him. The carpet stopped him from hitting the ground too hard, and Kalim was at his side right away, hands fluttering like birds as he fussed and worried over him.
Jamil smiled up at him. “I know how this looks, but I’m okay. Or I will be, anyway. Help me up. I need something to eat, probably some water, and then I really should be fine.”
Kalim wrapped an arm around him and helped him to his feet. “Do you think the house has any food stocked? I can run into town really quick?” His fingers were tight at Jamil’s waist, but he didn’t mind.
After years taking care of Kalim and carrying everything on his shoulders, after the last few days of guiding his most important scheme to fruition, it was nice to be the one carried for a change. He leaned closer to Kalim as they walked to better soak up the feeling.
“I’m sure there’ll be something. A snack will be more than enough. This is just an adrenaline crash, I promise.” Jamil closed his eyes for a few steps. Kalim was stronger than he looked, more capable than Jamil usually gave him credit for, even after everything they’d been through.
He bit his lip. “Back there, when you whistled for the carpet so we could make our getaway? That was incredibly cool.”
Kalim was silent for a beat, and when Jamil looked again, Kalim’s smile split his face. “You think I’m cool!”
Jamil turned away, face warm. “I think you did something cool. There’s a difference.”
“Nuh-uh,” Kalim insisted with a laugh, “my husband thinks I’m cool. Let me savor that.”
Husband. Jamil covered his face with his free arm. Kalim is my husband. I get to have this for the rest of our lives.
“Do what you like, but help me find something to eat while I get some water,” Jamil muttered. He leaned against the counter as he checked the cabinets for cups and filled two nearly to the brim.
Kalim hummed happily to himself as he rifled through the pantry. “There’s a lot of shelf stable ingredients, but not a lot that’s quick.” Some things rustled on the other side of the door and then Kalim made a surprised noise. “Jerky! Will that work?”
Jamil shrugged. There were better snacks, but the salt and protein would probably help. “It should.”
“Ta da!” Kalim presented the package with a wide grin. “I think it might be homemade.”
Jamil turned it over in his hands; there was absolutely no branding, only a label that declared the jerky to be deer meat specifically. “Huh. I guess his surname isn’t ‘Hunt’ for nothing.”
“Oh yeah, that’s what it was!” Kalim took the second cup of water and drank deeply. Jamil started sipping his before slowly working his way through a strip of jerky.
Kalim stayed close, and for a little while, the unfamiliar kitchen was quiet around them, but for the clink of their glasses and Jamil’s chewing. Kalim took a piece when Jamil offered it to him.
“Someday,” Kalim said quietly, “do you think we’ll stop checking for poison?”
Jamil let out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Kalim nodded like he’d expected the answer. “I hope so,” he admitted.
Jamil washed down the last of his jerky with a long drink of water before refilling his cup. He sighed. “I want to take it easy, but before that, we do need to decide where we go from here.”
“Where? Did you have somewhere in mind?” Kalim tilted his head. “I’m happy to go anywhere.”
“Your father isn’t going to be pleased about this, so… at least for the time being…” Jamil wrinkled his nose. “I think we should go to the Sunset Savanna. But you need to be the one to call Leona.”
“Oh! That’s a great idea! It’s been ages since we saw him!” Kalim pressed his hands together with open delight. “It was… his team’s last Spelldrive match in Scalding Sands, right? He and Ruggie were so cool!”
“Yes, right.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s the only one who could get us a visitor’s visa on such short notice.” Not to mention, he was someone Kalim’s father couldn’t force to cooperate.
“Oh! Right, because he’s a prince!” He laughed. “That’s a great idea. Do we have a story or should I just tell him the truth?”
Jamil shook his head and squeezed harder. “I honestly don’t know. Do whatever you think will make him agree to help us. I can never get a read on him.”
Jamil rifled through his backpack and pulled out one of the new burner phones and passed it to Kalim.
Kalim skimmed through the contacts, humming to himself as he paced a few steps away. “Aha, Leona, dialing,” he announced. After a few beats, he perked up as someone answered. “Hi, Leona, it’s Kalim.”
Jamil took a long, soothing drink of water. This was the only way, no matter how irritating Leona was. This way, they would be safe to get their feet under them.
Kalim was quiet for a beat, eyebrows rising before he laughed. “You know, if you’re busy, I can always call back later?”
Jamil reluctantly stepped closer; the phone volume was just loud enough that he could hear Leona tolerably well.
“Nah, I wanted to get out of there. As thanks for winning me a clean exit from familial obligation, what can I do for you today, Kalim?” Leona drawled.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Kalim said. “Basically, Jamil and I have eloped, and my dad is furious. Can we stay with you for a little while until things blow over?”
“You eloped?” Leona hummed. “Wait, when you say furious…?”
“I’m no longer the Asim heir,” Kalim said, his voice quiet. “Even if he hasn’t disowned me yet, I won’t go back, not even if he accepted me and Jamil. We just need time to figure out our next steps.”
Leona was quiet for a beat, and then two. “Yeah, you can stay a while. This is good timing. I actually had something I wanted to run by you. When’ll you be coming?”
Kalim looked at Jamil. He refused to face Leona on the sleep deficit he’d picked up the last several days. They didn’t need to leave right away, so they wouldn’t. “Three days.”
“Three days,” Kalim repeated brightly.
“Easy enough. Come through the main teleport terminal if you can, and I’ll have someone there to meet you. Give me at least 30 minutes’ warning day of.” Leona chuckled under his breath. “And tell Jamil how glad I am to do this favor for my dear school friends.”
“I will,” Kalim chirped. “Thanks again, Leona!”
Leona ended the call.
“That wasn’t so bad!” Kalim laughed. “I don’t know why you were so worried. Leona’s a nice guy.”
Jamil wrinkled his nose. For a dear school friend, indeed. Whatever that favor he wanted was, it better be enough to clear their debt. Jamil would rather face the Asim family head on than be left in lasting debt to Leona.
“Right.” He yawned, exhaustion catching up to him now that he was fed and watered and the most immediate dangers were all behind them.
Kalim licked his lips and set his phone on the counter without looking. He stepped further into Jamil’s space, placing a hand on his chest over his heart. “Can I make a request? Something I’ve been wanting to do since this whole mess started?”
Jamil could never refuse Kalim anything, not when he made that face. It didn’t matter how tired he was; whatever he wanted, Jamil would give it to him if he could. He nodded. “Let’s hear it.”
Kalim leaned in closer, ruby eyes gleaming with invitation, seductive and intent. “Nap with me?”
Jamil blinked. “Nap?” Not sex or hypnosis or—just a nap? That was all he wanted?
“Mm-hmm. I’ve been wanting to fall asleep on you again since I first woke up in your bed. Can I?” Kalim asked, eyes lidded as though with desire.
Jamil nodded a little too quickly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. We can—We can do that.”
Kalim closed the little space between them only to kiss his cheek, lingering briefly to nuzzle there before he pulled back. “Good. Come on. Let’s find a bedroom. We can figure out everything else afterward.”
Jamil tried to think if there was anything else that needed their immediate attention, but… Kalim took his hand and led the way down the hall, peeking into a few doors as they passed them. Jamil let the thought go. It could all wait.
“How about this one?” Kalim asked.
The room was modest and dark, the curtains blocking out more sunlight than Jamil would have expected. The bed was probably a full, not particularly big, but the pillows looked plush, and the comforter looked warm.
“Looks good to me.” Jamil yawned again, and took his shoes off to set them by the bedroom door. Then he started to undress, folding his clothes neatly and setting them on top of the room’s dresser.
“What are you—?” Kalim asked.
Jamil glanced back at him. “I’m not napping in my clothes. Underwear should be fine, right?”
“Oh, I guess our pajamas are all packed still.” Kalim shrugged and began undressing as well, humming to himself as he clumsily folded his own clothes and set them beside Jamil’s. Kalim considered the difference in their piles thoughtfully. “Will you show me how you fold stuff later? Yours looks nicer.”
“I’ll show you anything you want,” Jamil muttered. “Now c’mere.”
Kalim’s skin was warm beneath Jamil’s hands as he drew him back toward the bed. Jamil climbed in and scooted across to avoid letting go of Kalim.
Kalim snuggled in under the covers and rested his cheek on Jamil’s chest, an arm thrown across his ribs. His fingers curled there, loose and relaxed.
Jamil wrapped an arm around Kalim’s back, eyes already heavy. “Comfy?”
“You make a good pillow,” Kalim mumbled against him. “Good night, Jamil. I love you so much, and I’m so—so happy we’re here.” His fingers tightened against Jamil’s ribs. There was a warm, wet drop of water against his chest.
Jamil pet Kalim’s head gently. “Shh, shh, we’re safe,” Jamil murmured. “It’s all going to be okay now.”
Kalim only sniffled, still clinging.
“Shh, puppet. You can cry more when we get up.” Jamil lifted Kalim’s face from his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. Kalim’s breath caught. “Is this okay?”
Kalim nodded quickly. “Please.”
“Look closer, Kalim, nice and deep.” Jamil kept his voice firm by force of will alone. “It’s time for us to sleep now, puppet. Sleep deeply for as long as you need. No nightmares today, only pleasant dreams.”
Kalim’s eyes drooped, and then his head rested heavily in Jamil’s hands as they finally closed. Jamil lowered his head back to his chest and let his own eyes shut as well. Sleep came quickly, and no matter how they shifted in their sleep, they never once let go.
Jamil woke up alone in an unfamiliar bed. Heart racing, he scanned the room. Both suitcases had been moved into the bedroom, but Kalim’s clothes were missing from the dresser.
Jamil dressed quickly, eyes scanning for any sign of trouble.
He came up short in the doorway to the kitchen. Kalim was standing at the stove, humming to himself and spattered with what looked like it might be pancake batter, going by the package on the counter.
Jamil slumped against the doorjamb with relief. Kalim was okay. He was safe and sound. They were both out. Jamil’s plan worked.
There was batter in his hair.
Jamil snorted, and then suddenly he was laughing uncontrollably. Aborted fear and relief and humor and fondness and gratitude and too many more feelings to count all grappled for the top spot; he could hardly do anything but laugh.
“Jamil,” Kalim exclaimed, smile wide and eager, “you’re awake!” He paused when Jamil didn’t stop laughing. “What’s so funny? Is it the batter? I don’t know how you keep the kitchen so clean when you’re cooking. You don’t secretly have a genie, do you?”
Jamil tried to calm down with difficulty. Kalim was still smiling, even if it was with some bemusement, and he was absolutely covered in pancake batter. Now that he’d turned, Jamil could see that the front of him was even messier, parts of his shirt actually damp with the amount of batter that had gotten onto him, like he’d somehow leaned directly into the bowl.
“You look ridiculous! I can’t believe you didn’t just wait for me to wake up.” Jamil continued walking into the kitchen, still giggling despite himself. Fondness won out, welling up in his chest as he looked at Kalim. This was his forever. “I love you.”
Kalim huffed petulantly. “I just wanted to—” he froze. “Wait, you—you said it!”
Jamil peered down into the frying pan. The pancakes actually looked correct, fluffy and golden brown—would wonders never cease? “Hm? Said what?”
“You love me! You said it!” Kalim grabbed his face and kissed him, smearing batter on Jamil’s cheeks in the process.
“What?” Jamil blushed hot as realization struck. “Oh, I—I did, didn’t I?” He turned quickly to wet a paper towel to wipe his face clean.
“No, no, don’t hide!” Kalim tugged at him, laughing brightly. “My husband loves me. Even though I look ridiculous, he loves me. He married me!”
Jamil shot him a flat look, but Kalim looked so happy, Jamil’s own mouth betrayed him with a sappy smile of his own. “Yeah, yeah. And your husband has a vested interest in not making this kitchen even more of a mess. Hold still and let me clean you up a little.”
Kalim obliged, but he kept a ready eye on the pan, shooing Jamil’s hands away when it came time to finish the next pancake.
“I honestly can’t believe you’re cooking for me,” Jamil admitted once he was back to wiping batter away.
“I’ve always wanted to do this, but back home—or, at my father’s house, I guess—I couldn’t. And even if I could have, you always wake up before me.” Kalim smiled. “I want to cook with you and for you, at least sometimes. Is that okay?”
Jamil kissed his cheek. “More than. But I’m going to teach you properly. You cannot make this much of a mess every time,” he teased. “If you do, you’re cleaning the kitchen alone forever.”
Kalim laughed. “Okay, okay, I can live with that.” He glanced down at the two plates on the counter. They were each piled high with at least eight large pancakes apiece. “Do you think this is enough?”
“There is absolutely no way either of us finishes all of these.” Jamil moved the pan off the burner and turned it off. “I’m cutting you off.”
“But I have more batter!”
Jamil shook his head. “We’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge. We can make more later, if you still want them.” He glanced again at the plates and then the amount of batter left. He was also going to need to teach Kalim about portion sizes.
“Oh! That makes sense.” Kalim beamed. “I hope they came out okay.”
Jamil kissed him.
Jamil wasn’t an expert on pancakes by any means, but as far as he was concerned, the pancakes Kalim made him were some of the best he’d ever had. Even if he could barely finish two of them, and they had to set the rest aside for later. (Kalim bravely powered through a third before even he gave up the fight.)
There was so much yet to be done, and so little time to do it in, but Jamil decided it could all wait until the morning. They could discuss what to do about Leona’s request, whatever it might be, and where they should live, what their lives should look like, what their career prospects were, and how long their money would last.
Now that they were on their own, now that they were free of the Asim family’s expectations, Jamil wondered if Kalim wouldn’t be willing to put off making any big decisions until after they’d spent some time traveling together, just the two of them.
They were free, actually free.
In some ways, it almost felt overwhelming. Things at the Asim estate were stifling, but they were simple. Jamil always knew exactly where he stood and what to expect. Now, they could do anything they wanted, and no one could stop them, for good or for ill.
But whatever mistakes they might make, whatever their lives might look like now, freedom tasted sweet like a stack of too many pancakes.