Chapter Text
Years of steady boiling were starting to spill over.
They’ve been sitting around the table in their living room for just under two hours at this point and Kalim is seriously losing the will to continue this farce.
It’s past dark by now, each floor to ceiling window having been covered by ornate curtains and their innumerable lamps already set to a pleasant orange glow which just barely illuminated the room. Kalim’s given up on talking; each effort he made to contribute was shot down, or worse, taken as a slight.
Next to him stands Jamil. Strong, dependable, smart Jamil, who has his head bowed and eyes focused on the floor, who knows better than to speak out about something he doesn’t agree with.
Maybe if Kalim had understood that himself just a little sooner he wouldn’t be engaged right now. Engaged to someone he doesn’t know and definitely someone he won’t be able to be a good husband to.
He understands, of course, his parents are just doing this for his own good. Just because he understands that doesn’t make him any happier about it though.
Seventeen. Seventeen marriage proposals he’s declined. Seventeen times he’s had to make up a new, decently believable reason as to why he didn’t like them.
She was rude. She was too tall. She was too short. Her eyes were… too brown? I think I heard someone say that she doesn’t like crackers!
It was nothing short of a miracle that his father had humoured him for so long, and that was excluding his increasingly stupid reasons.
Nobody had been shocked when, one day, he'd gotten sick of his shit and just picked someone.
The conversation that swims around Kalim is low and careful, like his parents are worried he’ll voice his complaints. He won’t, not anymore anyway. He’s realised they won’t lead anywhere. Instead, he just sits, staring vaguely at the potted plant that fans out behind his father. After another moment, the word ‘marriage’ filters into his brain and his chest grows impossibly tight. In his lap, his fists tighten and his blunt nails dig into the soft flesh of his palms in an effort to fight back the tears that threatened to gather in his eyes.
Before now, the idea of marriage has never been anything more than idea. The reality of his their situation was becoming more real to him by the second.
Behind him, Jamil sighs. It’s quiet enough that nobody around them can hear it and Kalim knows it’s a silent signal to pull himself together. He tries. He glances over to the girl from another house.
His fiancée.
She’s pretty; the dark blue hijab she’s wearing compliments the rest of her outfit perfectly. She’s probably nice. She’s also probably not any happier than he is about their arrangement. She’ll be less happy when she realises that her husband is… not suited for his role.
Her dark eyes meet his red ones for a fleeting second and they both immediately stare off in opposite directions, equally embarrassed at having been caught.
His father catches the exchange and laughs in good humour, remarking how they ought to get to know each other more, considering everything. And he's right. He should probably ask someone for her name.
Again.
Kalim can’t remember how the rest of the night goes.
The only thing he can remember is that he really doesn’t want his life to continue on this path.
For his entire life he’s been prepped to take share of his father’s business, even though their wealth most certainly doesn’t come from just him- they live the way they do thanks to countless generations that specialised in promoting trade from their city to the wider world. Old money- that’s what people call it. He doesn’t have to get married and become a business man like his father, they have money to spare.
This is just what the Asim's did.
Turning in his soft bed, Kalim rolls until he’s lying on his back, one arm draped across his eyes in an, admittedly, mellow dramatic move.
He could run away and it wouldn’t actually make a difference to his family’s finances. Or their situation as a whole at all, he thinks as he worries his bottom lip. His father has enough children, he’s just been saddled with this since he’s the oldest.
He could probably pack his bags and make a break for it right now. He could be half way across the world before anybody woke up and realised-
Blankets were thrown haphazardly to the ground and his bare feet landed softly onto the tiled floor of his bedroom. His heart raced to the point it was making him nauseous; he took a second to steady himself as he stood. Was this even a good idea? He didn’t know the first thing about… well, anything outside of his estate’s walls.
It’s either this or, he glanced to his bedside table, the drawer was closed but he knew all too well what he kept in there. Sometimes the dents in his palms weren’t enough, sometimes not every scar or scratch or cut he got was due to clumsiness. Nobody had seemed to notice.
But no. No way could he do that.
His gaze flickered instead to his window, a sliver of the night sky peeking through where the curtains didn’t overlap. Fourth floor drop would be-
Enough. Insane.
He thought both at the same time.
It wasn’t just the fear of pain that kept his feet firmly planted on the floor, it was mainly the fact that he didn’t want someone to find him. His father. His mother. Any one of his little siblings.
Jamil.
Kalim shook his head vigorously, the tears in his eyes being blinked away as he made up his mind.
He wouldn't couldn’t kill himself, but he couldn’t keep living like this either.
Yes. He nodded to himself and clenched his fist in resolution. He’d figure out how to live outside of the walls, outside and away from his family's tragically impossible expectations.
Launching himself into a frenzy of packing anything and everything he deemed vaguely important or possibly useful, he paused, his heart thumping heavily against his ribs.
A million questions clouded his psyche, threatening to pull him under the turbulent waves of his own mind.
Was this a good idea?
Where would he even go?
How would he get there?
He knew enough to know that taking his phone or his card would be stupid. Something something tracking the payments, tracking wherever his phone would connect, something something. Jamil told him once that’s how they’d found him after he’d been unlawfully escorted to a second location.
Shit. He finished folding a pair of trousers into the one backpack he owned. Jamil.
His hazy mind screeched to a halt. He couldn’t tell him what he was doing, he’d definitely try talking him out of it.
Typing out a quick message on his phone’s notes app, he left it on his pillow for whoever came in first to find. Probably not the best way to start someone’s day, but considering what he’d thought of earlier, also decidedly not the worst.
Maybe with him gone, Jamil would finally be given more time for himself. This would be good for both of them. Kalim refused to let himself think any deeper.
Tossing a few other items into his bag, he squished it between his knees as he fought with the zip. Once it was closed, Kalim wiped the metaphorical sweat from his forehead before he realised he also had some very real sweat built up too. He still felt a little wobbly.
The door was out of the question, so that only left his window. Window then try scale the wall somewhere deep in their garden. Ok. Sure. Worst case scenario was he fell and broke his leg and Jamil would have to carry him back inside and they’d both pretend like tonight didn’t happen. Or he’d die from the fall. Either or.
He realised with a new bout of nausea that he didn't really care which; if the plan failed then he would accept that this was his destiny. His fate.
But he'd allow himself the one try. His first true act of rebellion, which may very possibly also be his last.
Pulling the zip all the way closed (painfully slowly, the noise would otherwise be too loud), Kalim looked toward the window again and formulated his escape plan. Once he managed to scale the wall, he’d go to the nearest bank and camp out until they opened- or maybe find one of those in the wall type things, yeah that works too- and take out as much money as possible. Then don’t use the card again.
Yep. Totally fool proof. And if there was anything Kalim was right now, it was a fool.
Really, he thought to himself as he silently pushed his window open and prepared to hop down using the various ledges that jutted out, was it so bad to be married?
For years he’d pretended like it was just because he was a free spirit; he didn’t want to be tied down to anybody. In truth, it was because he couldn’t ever see himself marrying… a certain kind of person, the kind of person his family needed him to.
Buckling the backpack closed across his chest, he took one deep breath in. Looked back to his nightstand. Looked away again, at the night sky beyond his room. Vast and unknown. And beautiful.
He landed heavily onto a thin ledge, his palms sweating but his mind curiously calm. If he slipped…
He shook his head, bouncy white curls flying carelessly in the gentle wind. Don't think.
Another jump and he was halfway down.
And then, he was making a break for it through the garden in the pitch black, thankful for his sharp reflexes and light steps, honed through years of dance training and other situations he'd rather forget.
Stumbling but not falling, Kalim managed to blindly find his way to the wall that encompassed his entire life so far, looking up he saw meters of blank stone, higher still- the moon. He climbed.
Somewhere behind him from his open window, Jamil watched him, silently pulling the windows closed and flipping the latch back down. Once Kalim was out of sight, Jamil let his shoulders relax and he walked back to his own room with practised stealth. He would be sent to retrieve him in the morning anyway. If nobody else found him first.
The fact that he hadn’t broken any bones and successfully made it over his garden wall had filled Kalim with far too much unearned confidence. Well, maybe it was partially earned. He did it- like, really did it! For every day that he'd spent daydreaming about life away from everything, he never thought he would actually manage to do it.
When his feet hit solid ground again, he let out a long sigh before pulling his hood over his head. Then, he disappeared into the night.
Hiking his pack higher up on his shoulders, Ruggie strolled the route he had done for a number of days. Temporary work could be found anywhere, and this time, he'd found it as a newspaper delivery boy for a suspiciously secluded hotel waaay too deep in the woods to actually be a legit hotel. But pay was pay, and he certainly wasn't paid to stick his nose into things that didn't concern him.
The water beneath him rushed loudly in his sensitive ears as he continued over the wide bridge. Up ahead, something caught his eye.
Over the railing stood someone.
He dropped the backpack from his shoulders in an instant, trying to make his way over as quickly and as silently as possible.
Once he was close enough, Ruggie took a fistful of the stranger's coat and held tight.
"Hey, don'tcha know it's dangerous to sightsee so close to the rapids?" He spoke sternly, not exactly thrilled about being on suicide watch as his second shift of the day. What happened to not sticking his nose into things that weren't his problem?
Teary red eyes turned to him. Ruggie took a second to steel himself. Whoever this guy was, he looked so damn sad.
“Hey…” He started again, softer this time, putting on the voice he used to soothe the kids back home, “Come round to my side, yeah? I don’t think I’ve seen ya before.”
The boy with white hair and impossibly downtrodden eyes looked at him and Ruggie noticed his bottom lip, bitten and bloody as it was, was trembling like he was trying not to cry.
“Come on, come here.” He repeated, offering his free hand as encouragement.
“My name’s Ruggie, I’m just travelling through this town, and you?” Voice casual and steady.
“Ah-“ The other boy responded, blinking in sudden recognition of the situation, “Kalim. I’m Kalim.”
He reached forward and took the brunette’s hand in his shaky grip, reassured when his grip tightened.
“Akalim?” Ruggie repeated absentmindedly as he focused on carefully guiding him over the rails and back onto the main body of the bridge. There was a jagged cut across the palm of his hand that definitely stung, judging by how it still seeped liquid, but Ruggie was grateful he didn't let go, despite his obvious pain.
He shook his head, his white hair and ornate fabric turban swaying as he moved.
“Just Kalim. Thank you.” He breathed once he was safely rooted. It took him a second to realise the other was still holding tight to his hand and another second to realise he could let him without fear of someone seeing.
The brunette nodded once, “My bad, Kalim then. Let's pretend like I didn't just fish ya from the river and start with the basics." Before he could list any of the basics, however, Kalim swiftly interrupted.
“Ah, I wasn’t really-“ This time, a loud rumble from his stomach interrupted what he was going to say. Ruggie smirked a knowing smile, and not just because he'd gotten a taste of his own medicine.
The boy with hyena ears unlinked their hands and looped his arm around Kalim’s waist to lead him toward his own abandoned bag, Kalim followed without protest. Ruffling through it, he successfully pulled out a half eaten sandwich, but when he held it out for him, he looked more than a little apprehensive.
“Mm, it’s alright, I’m not too…” He began to back away, eyes glued to the food in his hand like it might come to life and get him.
Another growl followed.
“Uh huh. C’mon man, I’ll take a bite too if it’ll make ya less nervy.” He was honestly a little relieved this guy wasn't just taking food from strangers without any problems, but he also wasn't infinitely patient. Not waiting a second for a response, Ruggie had already devoured half the remaining sandwich with said bite. Continuing to look through his bag, he held the sandwich toward Kalim with an outstretched hand, waving it slowly.
A moment of hesitation passes and Kalim takes it. They ate in silence, Ruggie taking the time to unpack and reorganise his bag.
After he'd finished re-rolling his sleeping bag, Ruggie piped up again, sitting back and leaning his palms against the old wooden flooring.
"Ya look like me when I first started out, what's yer deal?" He'd already looked him up and down a few times; surprised to see nothing of the usual types he met out on the road. Kalim was handsome, in the well taken care of sort of way some people are. The clothes he wore were plain, but definitely not low in quality, nor were they ripped or stained in any way, the real give away, however, were the big golden swirls he had for earrings. Not only were they impractical, they would probably make him an easy target.
"I just had to get away-" Kalim's voice interrupted his thoughts and he realised he'd been unabashedly staring at him, though he didn't seem to mind, "I can't stay home." He said simply.
"Nah?"
"...I can't live the life they expect me to." A vague answer was expected; not many people wanted to share the details of their lives crumbling to strangers, after all.
"Ain't that the truth." Ruggie shrugged and responded equally, "So ya packed up and ran?" He quirked a brow.
Kalim nodded, "Yeah, basically." He thought for a moment before a smile cracked his lips, "Who knew the trains stopped running until five! I've probably run holes into these shoes." Pulling them up to check, Ruggie again couldn't help but notice the brand on his decidedly not ruined shoes.
"Ya didn't know that? Eh, doesn't matter." This dude was strange and, most likely, just some run away rich kid who had no idea about the life he was entering. Ruggie still gave him the benefit of the doubt, he'd been wrong about his type before after all, "Where are ya headin' to?"
"I don't know. Just anywhere." Kalim spoke easily, breezy like the gentle wind around them, surprisingly unfettered by worries.
"Dude who doesn't even know how trains work is lookin' to go 'anywhere'? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. Or the start to a headline I'll see ina couple days." Ruggie snorted in response and Kalim frowned.
"Hey!" He protested, "I've been doing just fine, all thing's considered!"
"Riiight, Mr Bridgejumper." Ruggie muttered just loud enough for him to hear, when Kalim opened his mouth to protest again, he continued, "When didja run away?"
"Sunday- well, I guess it was Monday morning."
They just stared at each other for a second.
"It's Monday afternoon!" Ruggie broke the silence again, reaching forward to grab at the lapels of Kalim's jacket, "Give that damn sandwich back and go home, ya dumbass."
"No! I just said I can't!" He yelled in return, not fighting back as the brunette shook him around like a ragdoll.
Satisfied with the amount of brain damage he'd caused, Ruggie huffed as he pulled back. "There's no way yer surviving a whole night by yourself."
"Have some faith!"
"I know enough about betting to know this," He waved his hand around Kalim in a circular motion, "is lost cause."
"Oh! Oh!!!" Having known Kalim for approximately fifteen minutes by this point, Ruggie was already acutely aware that that face spelt nothing but trouble. Kalim didn't seem deterred by Ruggie's grimace, "What about I come with you!"
That didn't really sound like a question. Or a request.
"Ha? Come with me? To where?"
"I don't know, wherever you're going!" A bright smile greeted him.
Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Ruggie shot him down, "No way. I don't take charity cases along with me."
"Pleaaase? Just for a little bit- I promise I won't be annoying!"
The brunette looked at him. Really looked at him. A lost rich kid who didn't know the first thing about anything. Ruggie hated that type. But as he looked further, he couldn't help notice the determined look in his ruby eyes. He wouldn't go home, that was for sure, and by himself he might just end up getting himself killed...
"Ugh." Ruggie sighed, long and pained through his mouth, "Only if ya swear to cut the suicide shit."
"I was just admiring the view!" Kalim argued back for a second before his face melted into a relieved smile. "Thank you, really."
"No worries, I just don't wantcha dyin'. That would really weigh on my conscience."
The loud laugh that followed was not one Ruggie had been expecting.