Work Text:
It was past midnight. Everyone in Scarabia had already retreated to their dorm rooms. However, Jamil was stuck in the lounge with Kalim, helping him do his homework.
He was exhausted. Today had been tiring. He had gotten frustrated at a lesson he was still trying to understand in alchemy, a few of his teachers hadn’t been in good moods today, resulting in a tense classroom environment, and he had a basketball game tomorrow. So he was not exactly in the best mood.
However, he was still up helping Kalim. Even if he had finally been able to get his feelings off his chest due to his overblot, things didn’t change overnight. And he wasn't sure if things could ever change. He was still sworn to serve the Al-Asim family. He couldn't just give it up because he was unhappy. Because he wanted to do his own thing.
Jamil rubbed a tired hand down his face. Kalim nervously tapped his pencil against the table they were sitting at, his head resting in his hand.
Kalim had been so much more thoughtful about his words and actions towards Jamil since his overblot. Jamil knew Kalim felt terrible for his circumstances.
He appreciated how much Kalim cared.
He hated that Kalim was still trying to be his friend. How he was trying to accommodate Jamil more than he had before.
Jamil grew tired of Kalim tapping his pencil and sighed.
“Just ask me your question, Kalim.” Jamil said tiredly, trying to keep the bite out of his voice.
Kalim didn't deserve his ire. He was just tired.
He wanted to yell at Kalim and let him know how much pain he had been in since he had been forced to be his retainer.
Kalim looked up to meet Jamil’s eyes, then looked back at his worksheet. He hesitated before pushing it towards Jamil.
“I don’t understand what I did wrong. Nothing is working. I can’t balance the equation.”
Jamil looked at the equation, his eyes blurring slightly from how tired he was. He blinked once. Twice.
He pointed at one of the compounds in the chemical equation. “Check that one again. There’s a parenthesis here. You need to multiply the subscript on the outside with the one on the inside.”
Kalim frowned at his worksheet. “But shouldn’t I multiply the subscript here also?”
Jamil has to hold in a tired sigh. He wants to throw something. He can see Kalim flinch slightly out of the corner of his eye.
He feels guilty that he made him feel scared.
He feels a swell of vindication that he made him feel scared.
“No. That subscript is attached to that compound only. So you only have to multiply the two with ammonium.”
“What’s ammonium?”
“The NH4.”
“Oh…”
“Think of it like this…” And Jamil explains PEMDAS and balancing equations to Kalim all over again for the third time that night. By the time he finishes explaining, a good fifteen minutes have passed and Jamil is just about ready to give up and force Kalim to do his homework on his own when Kalim lights up, understanding in his eyes.
“Oh…” Is all he says before he erases his work and begins to correct his mistake.
Jamil goes back to his work, holding in another tired and exasperated sigh.
A few minutes of silence go by before Kalim is tapping his pencil against the table again. Jamil clenches his fists and he can't help it when he slams a hand down on the table and glares at Kalim.
“What. What do you need now?”
“It’s fine, Jamil. I’m sorry—”
“Just say it, Kalim.”
“No really, it’s fine—”
“WILL YOU JUST SPIT IT OUT?!”
The lounge goes eerily silent after Jamil’s outburst. Guilt immediately curls inside Jamil’s gut. He takes a few deep breaths before speaking again.
“I apologize. Do you need something, Kalim?” Jamil asks. It takes every ounce of his willpower to keep his voice level.
Kalim looks away, unable to look Jamil in the eyes as he speaks. “I…I’m hungry…”
Jamil takes another deep breath before standing up from the table.
“Anything in particular you want?”
“No. I’ll eat whatever.” Kalim says quieter than usual.
Jamil nods and retreats to the kitchen. He leans against the counter, taking a few deep breaths. He tries to ignore the way his body trembles. The way his breath shakes with each inhale and exhale. The way his eyes begin to burn.
No. There’s no time to cry. Not now and not ever.
Jamil grabs some rice from the large pantry the dorm kitchen has and grape leaves from the fridge and begins to make dolma for Kalim.
He’s tired. He just wants to go to bed. It’s Friday. He should’ve been done with his homework by now and tucked in bed, fast asleep. Instead, he’s up making food for Kalim and helping him finish his homework.
Jamil’s breath catches in his throat and he has to quickly swallow around the lump in his throat. The last thing he wants to do is break down right now.
Besides his overblot, he’s never gotten to this point before. He’s been doing this for years. He doesn't know why tonight, he’s about to burst into tears in the kitchen. Maybe it's because he’s exhausted. Maybe it’s because he’s been trying to help Kalim do his homework while simultaneously trying to finish his own for the past three hours. Maybe it’s because he had a rough day of school on top of all of that. Maybe it’s because he has a basketball game tomorrow as well, adding to his growing pile of things to worry about.
When Jamil finishes making Kalim’s food, he plates it and makes sure to turn off the stove before leaving the kitchen with Kalim’s food in hand.
Kalim looks up from his worksheet and gives Jamil a shaky smile. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.” He mutters.
He hands Kalim the plate of dolma. Just as Jamil sits down and tries to get comfortable on the pile of pillows he sits on, Kalim stands up.
“Thank you, Jamil. For the food and help. I’ll uh, I’ll leave you alone. Good night! Sweet dreams.” Kalim says with a wavering smile.
Jamil doesn’t even have time to say anything before Kalim is grabbing his homework and his plate of dolma before walking back to his dorm room.
And Jamil is left all alone in the lounge by himself.
He’s glad Kalim is gone.
He feels like a horrible person.
He swallows thickly and grabs his pen. He continues to finish his homework. More than once, he has to rub his eyes with the back of his hands so tears don’t fall on his worksheets and stain and blot out his work.
When he finally manages to finish his homework, it is one in the morning.
He still has to clean up the kitchen. Jamil neatly organizes his homework on the table before standing up and making his way back to the kitchen so he can clean up.
He turns on the faucet. The water comes out scalding hot, steam billowing up from the sink. He grabs a sponge and begins scrubbing the pan.
The tips of his fingers turn red as he scrubs harshly. Hot tears begin to roll down his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away with his arms, desperately trying to keep himself together, despite no one being around to see him should he break down.
He finishes cleaning the pan and places it on the drying mat on the counter. He continues to clean. His hands shake terribly. His vision goes blurry as more tears fill his vision.
Jamil doesn’t even notice the plate he’s cleaning has slipped from his hands until he hears it crash and break in the sink. Jamil blinks and his eyes widen, tears falling as he realizes what’s happened.
He turns off the faucet and harshly throws the sponge he had been using in the sink. He brings his wet and sudsy hands up to his hair and falls to his knees. He doubles over as if in physical pain and he finally weeps.
Sobs wrack his body, and tears steadily stream down his cheeks. He tries to keep his crying to a minimum. He knows that no doubt, most of the dorm is asleep by now. But the last thing he needs is to be caught unsuspecting by someone. Even though he wants nothing more than to loudly scream and sob, letting out the emotions that plague him.
He doesn’t know how long he remains on the floor, fingers tangled in his hair and doubled over. But finally, the tears begin to slow and his harsh sobs turn into soft whimpers.
Jamil sniffles and wipes his nose and eyes with his hands before he forces his expression into one of indifference.
He stands up on shaking legs and cleans up the broken plate in the sink. He finishes cleaning up the kitchen and turns off the lights behind him.
He walks back out into the lounge and grabs his homework before trudging back to his room. He’s too tired to even think about taking a shower or cleaning himself up.
So upon arriving at his room, he dumps his homework onto his desk, changes into his pajamas, and flops into bed. It doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep.