Heart Shaped Box
Maybe Not
“Malik?”
“Yes?”
Altair turned onto his side, his hand tugged underneath his chin and the grass tickling the back of his knees were he had rolled up the legs of his trousers during the warm summer night. Malik was lying on his back, arms crossed behind his head as a made-shift cushion and looking up the stars.
“What do you think? Will it hurt a lot?”
Malik sighed, his lids slowly closing and opening again before he starred at Altair from the corner of his eyes. A lazy smile curled around his lips.
“Probably. You will scream like a little girl.”
Altair pouted, turning on his back as well, watching the sky above them.
To lie with Malik in the long grass underneath the fortress of Masyaf, far away from the small village and the eyes of fellow brothers he felt at peace. The days of hard training forgotten and only the pain in his limbs a reminder of what Al-Mualim had put him through during the day.
“I assure you I won't...”, he murmured softly, lacing all of his ten fingers together.
It was quiet for a long time, the only sound the crickets and their own steady breathing.
“Malik?”
“Yes?”
Altair slowly set up, his elbows resting on his knees. He offered him a shy smile, his gaze turning back up to the sky.
“Nothing.”
Maybe it would hurt, maybe not. It didn't matter as long as Altair had his friend by his side.