The water was warm, mixed with aroma that filled his nostrils. Far away he was able to hear the sounds of the streets - people quarreling, selling their goods. Though here, in the garden no one could see him. No one would disturb him. No one would dare.
Here, he could sometimes forget what had taken place during these long last years. He sometimes even dreamed that he still had his arms, that his young brother would smilingly approach him, telling him how awesome his day had been.
Malik groaned, shifted his weight slightly and shook his head. These thoughts were useless. His brother was dead and he lost his arm. His anger was gone and he had accepted his fate. And when we was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he liked his life. He enjoyed the position he was in - it definitely was fun to order the others around.
A smile appeared on his lips, accompanied with a sigh. Though a frown was visible on his delicate features as soon as he heard a familiar voice.
"I am occupied. Come back later!", he said before the visitor was able to ask anything. He expected silence.
Instead a chuckles reached his ears before the rustling of clothes made him open his eyes slightly.
He blinked and stared into the face of the familiar Master Assassin Altair who sat down right next to him INSIDE the tub.
"What... do you think you're doing Altair?"
"Well, what does it look like?"
"I am taking a bath and you are not respecting what I said. Once again you are acting like a spoiled brat."
Altair laughed, then leaned back. His arms were on the cold surface of the white tub while his feet passed Maliks'.
"A spoiled brat you say?", he began, rubbing his chin slightly. Still the amused grin was placed onto his lips.
"Maybe you'd prefer another nickname, though to me you are a brat. Still."
"Oh, but Malik... do brats often share the same bed with their masters?"
"What do you want to imply?"
Altair chuckled, leaned in closer. His fingers were now placed ontop of Maliks' hand while his nose nearly touched the one of the man in front of him.
"I do imply nothing. I just stared that a brat does maybe not sleep with you as I do. A brat is a small child, a youngster."
Malik bit down onto his lower lip and the glare he trew at Altair would have made other Assassins shudder and back away. But the master Assassin knew all of this. He knew what his looks meant, what he thought. He knew the man long enough by now.
"A brat is ageless Altair. And you are a brat. Too bad that I am the only one who doesn't give you want to want."
"But Malik.. if you don't give me what I want, I guess I have to get in through force..."
He grinned, before he put one hand behind Maliks head and put him forward to close the others mouth with his own lips, ignoring the loud 'hmpf!' that escaped the one-armed man.