Despite the idea of suspending and isolating Malik's arm that had been spoken of last night in order to keep his open, prone muscle structure from being bared to the dangerous and disease-ridden world, Malik realised in the morning that he and Altaïr had underestimated the rate of growth his arm seemed to be progressing at. He awoke to Altaïr attempting and failing to subtly roll him over and peel the bloody mess of his arm from the sheets beneath him, swatting at flies as he did so.
He slurred a curse at the insects and swatted at them lazily, hissing in pain when Altaïr lay his forearm over his chest and eased the fabric away from it's place stuck to his elbow with a layer of coagulated and quickly drying blood.
“Good morning, Malik.” Altaïr mumbled as he brushed another fly from his messy arm and took up a wet cloth in hand. “It seems I will have to buy you a new robe after this.”
“One without blood stains?”
“One with two sleeves.” Altaïr gave him a knowing look as he gingerly pressed the cloth over the exposed muscle, which unnervingly jumped at the contact. Malik could feel it. He stared at the limb with mild surprise.
“I can do that.” He said, avoiding Altaïr's comment and holding out his right hand for the cloth.
“No, you can eat. I brought you your breakfast.” Malik glanced to his right. Falafel and pita with hummus. He shifted himself up into a slouched position against the pillows and wall and hit a fly away from the sesame-based dip before sluggishly beginning to eat, wincing when the cloth was pressed down too hard.
“...I didn't realise that...I mean-Have you always-” Altaïr took a deep breath and composed himself, “What did you ask the Piece of Eden?”
Malik's chewing slowed significantly, and then stopped, and he sniffed before swallowing thickly and coughing to clear his throat. “It was a fleeting thought, that's all. But the Piece of Eden latched onto it and wouldn't let it go.”
Altaïr washed the cloth of the blood it had collected. And watched Malik's face carefully. “You think about it often?”
“It's hard not to, Altaïr.”
Altaïr was dead silent when he manoeuvred Malik's arm and wiped from the armpit to elbow, fresh deep red muscle losing it's layer of blood. Meanwhile Malik pressed falafel into his mouth and sucked hummus from his fingers, stomach happy to receive food after the lack of it yesterday.
FILL [3.a/?]
Despite the idea of suspending and isolating Malik's arm that had been spoken of last night in order to keep his open, prone muscle structure from being bared to the dangerous and disease-ridden world, Malik realised in the morning that he and Altaïr had underestimated the rate of growth his arm seemed to be progressing at. He awoke to Altaïr attempting and failing to subtly roll him over and peel the bloody mess of his arm from the sheets beneath him, swatting at flies as he did so.
He slurred a curse at the insects and swatted at them lazily, hissing in pain when Altaïr lay his forearm over his chest and eased the fabric away from it's place stuck to his elbow with a layer of coagulated and quickly drying blood.
“Good morning, Malik.” Altaïr mumbled as he brushed another fly from his messy arm and took up a wet cloth in hand. “It seems I will have to buy you a new robe after this.”
“One without blood stains?”
“One with two sleeves.” Altaïr gave him a knowing look as he gingerly pressed the cloth over the exposed muscle, which unnervingly jumped at the contact. Malik could feel it. He stared at the limb with mild surprise.
“I can do that.” He said, avoiding Altaïr's comment and holding out his right hand for the cloth.
“No, you can eat. I brought you your breakfast.” Malik glanced to his right. Falafel and pita with hummus. He shifted himself up into a slouched position against the pillows and wall and hit a fly away from the sesame-based dip before sluggishly beginning to eat, wincing when the cloth was pressed down too hard.
“...I didn't realise that...I mean-Have you always-” Altaïr took a deep breath and composed himself, “What did you ask the Piece of Eden?”
Malik's chewing slowed significantly, and then stopped, and he sniffed before swallowing thickly and coughing to clear his throat. “It was a fleeting thought, that's all. But the Piece of Eden latched onto it and wouldn't let it go.”
Altaïr washed the cloth of the blood it had collected. And watched Malik's face carefully. “You think about it often?”
“It's hard not to, Altaïr.”
Altaïr was dead silent when he manoeuvred Malik's arm and wiped from the armpit to elbow, fresh deep red muscle losing it's layer of blood. Meanwhile Malik pressed falafel into his mouth and sucked hummus from his fingers, stomach happy to receive food after the lack of it yesterday.