Chapter Text
TWO DAYS LATER - LAMBAD’S TAVERN, 10:00 P.M.
Two days passed since Kaveh left and the petals began to show, and yet to Alhaitham, it felt like an eternity. Perhaps a couple drinks could at least muffle the internal cries of his yearning, and maybe kill the flower plant.
But alas, that would do nothing. If anything, it only made the pain in his throat worse. His throat had already been burning from the amount of petals he had coughed out, and the alcohol only made it worse. The alcohol reacted with the flower petal’s chemicals, creating an aggressively stinging reaction within his throat.
“Shit,” he groaned in pain. This disease was unbearable. He wished the pain would end. But he knew the only ways that it could. He was not willing to burden Kaveh, nor was he willing to let go of his feelings for him. He would rather die loving Kaveh.
There was no purpose in staying at the tavern if he physically could not drink. He grabbed a small handful of Mora and placed it on the table, making a faint clink. But once he stood up from the chair, he noticed a familiar tavern table.
The very table where Kaveh was found after he had begun to suffer from crippling debt and had recently become homeless. He recalled the very moment they saw each other again, as if it had only occurred yesterday:
“And yeah, that’s what happened ever since we last met.”
“…”
“Shit, I overshared. I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have had to hear anything-! What? What’s this?”
“A house key.”
“Wait…”
“I’ll let you live in my house until you can get back on your feet again.”
“You don’t have to do this, I swear…”
“Would you rather live on the streets then?”
They had been living together ever since then. For the first few months, they could never agree on anything. The quiet that Alhaitham once had would be gone. But as time passed, he would grow used to the noise, and the two were even able to share some comfortable silence. They had lived together for so long that he had forgotten what life before Kaveh moved in looked like, especially the silence.
But now that Kaveh’s gone, so was the noise. No more hammering, no more comfort, nothing.
Three unbearable weeks with him gone and with this damned disease.
He would probably die before Kaveh would come home.
And yet, he still thought this was the best decision. Alhaitham was only trivial. Kaveh would eventually have to move out anyway once that debt is paid.
He let his fingers run over the table, feeling the smooth wood brush over. He was taking in every memory that occurred right here, and the many months that occurred after. But with every memory, Alhaitham could feel the thorns poking at his lungs. The still lingering alcohol and flower chemicals burning his throat. And yet, he still thought that telling no one was best for everyone.
Cyno would have to worry about one more person he was close with.
Tighnari would have to work himself to death to figure out a cure or better yet, a vaccine.
And Kaveh? Archons, he couldn’t even imagine Kaveh’s reaction to Alhaitham suffering from such a tragic disease.
At least if Alhaitham dies, he wouldn’t have to see how Kaveh would react.
He sighed, finally left the table, and let the door of the tavern close behind him.
ALHAITHAM’S HOME, 10:30 P.M.
A completely silent house.
It had only been silent for two days.
It hurt too much to speak. The thorns, although short and dull, poked his lungs, making breathing hurt a bit, even more when speaking.
The alcohol was a bad idea. It amplified the pain in his throat. As if constantly coughing up petals wasn’t terrible enough. Now, every time he coughed, there would be a harsh sting.
But no matter how painful this disease was, he was still set on not telling anyone. That would never change as long as no one caught him.
The next hour was a blur as he got ready for bed. There was nothing to listen for. No one was complaining about their latest project. No one else was preparing themselves for bed.
Not even a casual good night to Alhaitham.
He missed Kaveh and it hurt. The wilting petals scattered across Alhaitham’s room only proved it. The once beautiful light purple flower petals were now disgustingly pale, like a bruise.
Does loving someone have to hurt this much?
That was the only thing Alhaitham pondered as he let himself fall asleep.