Once he started, he couldn't stop.
It was like everything inside of him was pouring out. Like all the hatred and pain and whatever the hell else he had bottled up in his hurt little heart suddenly decided it was done being trapped. He didn't understand it. His screams were usually silent. His tears were either false or unshed. And yet, here he was: reduced to nothing more than a sobbing, sputtering mess. It was pathetic. It was degrading. It was weak. He hadn't even been aware it was happening until a salty drop landed on the king's shoulder.
That damn king who had the guts to have his arms wrapped around him. The bastard was probably laughing at him. He could practically see the smug look on his face, a smile that would say 'look what I've reduced you to'. What right did he have to say the things he said? To promise such empty promises? They were enemies, weren't they? They despised each other, didn't they?
Everything he knew was screaming that this wasn't possible, that this shouldn't be happening. He was confused, and shocked, and angry, angry at this bastard, this stupid king, for being so serious, and so gentle, and just so damn confusing. He was frustrated with the world and with himself because dammit, he's crying- actually crying- in front of Sinbad no less, and he cant do a damn thing about it. He wants to push the man away, to kill the bastard; he wants to run, to flee from his emotions just like he's always done. But at the same time he almost wants to stay here, like this. He wants to stay because he's just so tired- of the world, of his life, of everything- and all he wants to do is get rid of all these stupid useless feelings. Everything he feels is contradicting everything else, and all these thoughts are suffocating, and it comes to the point where he just doesn't care anymore.
So, he stops fighting, he clings to the king, and he cries. He cries for the life he could've had, for the parents he never knew. He cries for himself and the unfairness of the world. He cries for everything he'd ever done, for everything that'd been done to him.
He cries and sobs and whimpers until there are no tears left to shed, and nothing left inside of him to cry about.