Truthfully, he felt like whatever it was that Fatima was hiding had to be huge if he wasn’t willing to share it with his best friend. Jamil really wanted to know what Fatima was hiding from him, as someone who should be more concerned about their sake. Yet… despite wanting to know, he felt that he shouldn’t want to know. As he had felt whatever it was, it was going to ruin something very important to him. Something he had never had before and would never wish to lose. His heart grew heavy as he felt that, a mixture of emotions he have never felt before in his life.
This whole situation was not good for his heart. “…I guess you’re right… I wouldn’t even put it past her to also have a backup person to reveal your secret to the public if she did end up going missing after speaking with you. But still… you can be too careless sometimes, Fatima and that worries me. You must be a little more cautious.” Jamil said, sighing a bit. Thankfully they had each other at times, otherwise Fatima or Jamil would be in hot water so many times. Still though, Fatima was foolish, a little too confident sometimes.
This facial expression that his best friend showed to him was new to to the slaver, it was a side he had never seen before. He was so used to seeing that smile of his, and his happy go lucky attitude whenever they would go to a subject unrelating to their business practices. It was actually bothering him a little by seeing him in such a state and once more his heart was telling him that it was best not to get any further into his business, although his pride, stubbornness and his dedication to what his teacher had taught him was getting in the way of what he found so precious to him, his friendship with Fatima. The look in the male’s eyes as he only grew closer made his expression change to something unusual, worry.
Purple hues refused to look away from Fatimas as an unpleasant shiver protruded up his spine. But he kept his words firm, but obviously you could easily hear the hesitant and worry in his voice as it lightly cracked. "You think I care about what you did twenty fucking years ago? If the situation was different then I wouldn’t even bother confronting you about but. But if it’s so important that you are willing to hurt yourself over protecting it, why would I just sit idly by while you continue to lie to yourself and to someone who truly, for once in his life cares about you and how you feel. You must be really stupid!! I became your business partner because I saw potential in working together! I felt that was something we both shared! And truthfully, at first I cared so little about our relationship. I never considered us friends, I was only using you, because I figured you was useful to me. But, after being near you for so long my feelings about you changed without me noticing it, til just recently.“ he said as he felt his heart for once jump a million miles an hour, what was this kind of sensation?? It wasn’t fear that was for sure, it wasn’t anger either, but he had the feeling to whatever was bothering the other wouldn’t matter to whom they were today, but he was still afraid of what may occur. ” I don’t give jack shit about your past!! Or what you will do twenty year from now, all I care for is you in the present, the you who is here with me, and nothing more.”
Jamil still felt uneasy by seeing that foreign look Fatima had in his eyes, yet he refuse to let his feeling raver, even when he placed a finger onto his chest. Jamil, grabbing Fatima by his shirt yanking him forward, as close as he could manager as his eyes narrowed. “Do you not think I know that?! I can feel it in my heart that something wrong may happen as a result, and yet as a friend how could I not know about what bothers you? How could i even go on being by your side when something you can’t even tell me hurts you so bad? How could I even call myself your friend if I allow you to continue getting hurt because of me knowing?!” Jamil could feel tears welling up in his eyes, something strange for him as his grip hardened and he placed his for3head against his. “As I am now, I can’t say that I would leave you if you tell me. Hell, to be honest… I’m not even sure I’m me anymore, because I never would ever say such nice things like this, to anyone. That’s just how much our friendship mean to me Fatima. That’s just how much you mean to me, Fatima. And it’s because it means so much to me that I want to know what bothers you, because whether I know it or not it still bothers me because it’s you. So please…” Tears finally flowed and fell as he looked down now, his grip slowly loosening.
◤ Careless? Was Fatima being careless letting that woman go. It was true she threatened someone else releasing his secret if she went missing, but if he was honest with himself that was not why he paid her off. He paid her off because he was desperate for the situation, no for the reminder to go away. He had pushed those memories so far down inside his head, everytime her brought it out he got physically sick. It felt like he was pilling out a splinter that go so deep inside his skin, blood poured from the wound as it was pilled out. Was he foolish? Rash? Yes, but he just wanted it to go away. He wanted Jamil to go away.
Fatima watched as Jami’s face changed. He noticed the slight pink in his cheeks from being so worked up. The desperateness in his voice, no the pleading in his voice was never there before. This Jamil was one he had never seen. The slaver watches as the man yells and rants about twenty years ago. Eighteen years. He was a slave for nearly eighteen years. He shutters as phantom hands roam his body. He could feel them pulling at his hair, grabbing his hips, choking his neck, touching him. Disgusting.
He walks in an attempt to get those hands off him. “Stupid? I’m stupid?” He says in an almost to short answer. His eyes were dilating more and more. “Have I not said this would RUIN ME!” He screams at the other for the first time at the top of his voice. “But who cares!?” He waves it off as if he was battling with a runaway fly. “Who cares about my career, my way of living? That doesn’t matter shit to me compared to YOU, DUMBASS!” He confesses to Jamil.
His job, his money, his reputation, none of that matter as the other did. Jamil was his only friend he had ever had. For the first time in his life, he was not alone. Now, he could feel that slipping through the fingers that touches his skin.
Those phantom hands were becoming more solid as he could feel there touches. He could feel the pain in his scalp as it was pulled, the scratches of nails on his back, the disgusting hot breath near his ear, the to gentle pats of a ‘job well done,’ and the fakeness of intimacy. His one hands started to scratch his body. He was desperately trying to get those hands away. The hands of so many disgusting people touching him. He never wanted to jump out of his skin so badly before. Just to get away from the memories.
Friend? Hurt? Yes, he was hurting and his friend was making it worse. He doesn’t protest as he is yanked forward by the shirt. ‘It’s just another hand.’ He thinks. It’s just another one of those hands. In that moment so many people replaced Jamil’s face, some from so long ago, he didn’t even remember them clearly. They were nothing but a blurred image. So many people had come and gone, making fake promises, giving him fake comfort, giving him fake love. Now would he have to face the fact that Jamil was also one of them? His words empty, and his friendship false? It was coming as the storm clouds in the far distance. It was coming, and in that moment, Fatima realized nothing could stop it. It didn’t matter how hard he tried. It was over.
He saw the tears in Jamil’s eyes, and feeling defeated, he let his own flow from his eyes. Water stained his cheeks like blood, cleaning off the dust to leave its evidence. “Our friendship is everything to me! You can’t even begin to understand!” He screams shaking his head as water sprays from his eyes, drops landing on the cheeks of the other slaver in front of him. He pushes the other away from him, still scratching desperately at his own skin. The hands just wouldn’t go away, no they were getting stronger. “You want to know? Fine! You damn son of a bitch I’ll tell you! I was a SLAVE damnit! For the first eighteen years of my damned life I was a SLAVE IN REIM!” He screams with the last breath in his lungs before he had to stop and take deep breaths. The hands on his body stilled, and he felt that familiar pat, as he heard a symphony of voices, ‘well done boy, well done.’ ◢
