He spins on his heel and strides purposefully out onto the dance floor. The music is still pounding. He can feel Al-Haitham’s curious gaze on him. He worries with a flush if this is what Tighnari meant. To not always be mean. Had he been cruel to Al-Haitham here at the club - had he said too much?

He thinks back to the other nights he’s been here - the way he’d quickly drown his sorrows in alcohol. It's all fuzzy senses, strobing lights and repetitive music after that. He must have seen Al-Haitham here before, to fixate on it so entirely. Even subconsciously, it always came back to him.