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First Alhaitham had been absent for weeks - and he was almost sure Kaveh had taken the opportunity to escape his designated sleeping place on the couch to occupy the Scribe’s luxurious bed like the leech that he was. Or parasite. That was why he had immediately changed the bedding upon returning home.
Next, Kaveh had been the one gone for weeks in the desert, and Alhaitham had felt strangely ill at ease with the silence that reigned in his home without the over-the-top hysteric litany that were the non-stop complaints of his roommate. The complete emptiness had led Alhaitham to find himself falling asleep on the sofa, instead of his own bed.
But of course if asked, he would say it was to enjoy the full custody of the sofa he now had more no freedom to use it because of the freeloader occupying it.
The ways of their friendship had always been the same. It shifted between different symbiotic relations, with Alhaitham feeling that parasitism was surely the accurate description of their current situation.
Perhaps commensalism had been where it had all begun. With Alhaitham’s class being tasked with pairing up with senior scholars of different Darshans for an assignment. Given his outspread fame for being insufferable, no one had accepted him. Except someone had. Only one. Kaveh. The Kshahrewar major had always had a strong sense of justice and kindness. Back then, Alhaitham had profited from the exchange, without bringing his senior any harm.
After that, however, Kaveh had made sure to never let Alhaitham forget the favor he was owed. And so it had begun.
Surely even the most studied scholar dedicated to the secrets of the mind and the psyche would not unveil the mysteries of their friendship. Alhaitham himself, a man of rationality, could not explain it.
As time passed, his distaste for Kaveh’s presence had grown into a custom, routine. He hated to be in his presence, but felt empty when he was alone. Kaveh’s voice grated on his ears, but the sound of silence seemed infinitely louder. He wanted to drown that man in a puddle of shallow rainwater, and yet if anyone else dared speak ill of him, Alhaitham would come to his defense at once.
Only he had enough intimacy to verbally abuse Kaveh’s intelligence. It was a given.
He hated to enjoy his presence, and loved to hate his very existence. Surely it was a form of madness that went beyond anything even the divine knowledge capsule could have ever provoked.
This was also how they had moved onto inquilinism, when he had begrudgingly welcomed the Light of the Kshahrewar into his home. And his couch. Alhaitham was a rational man. Thus, even though he had the income for it, he had chosen a small home for himself, since he had not expected to have to share it. Fate had proved him wrong. He could have, however, cleared up a room to repurpose as a temporary stay for Kaveh. But that was Ridiculous.
Not only would it encourage the other to prolong his stay, but Alhaitham also felt it was only fair that if *he* had to suffer the loss of his peace and privacy, Kaveh should suffer a little bit too. It was not like he was even paying rent, after all.
This arrangement brought certain inconveniences with it, however. More often than not, Alhaitham would wake up to Kaveh draped over him on his bed, grip as tight and vice-like as that of an octopus or an anaconda curling around its prey. And the more he struggled, the tighter the grip became. The only possible solution was often to relax and go back to sleep.
Another inconvenience was the fact that Alhaitham’s deep sleep meant he usually only noticed Kaveh next to him when the sun was up and his sleep long gone, so he could not even kick the fleabag off his bed, which meant he never managed to teach his roommate a lesson about the consequences of his actions. It was always a little too late.
One could argue he could just lock the door. But this was his home, and Alhaitham refused to become a prisoner in it…
Now they were again both occupying his house, and gladly he had fallen asleep in his large, empty bed, with a deceiving feeling of bliss and accomplishment.
Thunder crackled outside, as if to wash away all of the sins the sages and the Fatui had committed against this land, and it was enough to rouse even Alhaitham from his dead-like sleep.
He sighed, feeling a strange discomfort in the emptiness of his bed. Perhaps he should start praying to the God of Wisdom if his faculties were being affected to the point of…missing…him.
Alhaitham’s discomfort remained until his hazy mind registered the slithering arms of his pet viper grip him firmly. Kaveh, sleeping sounding and even drooling over his chest. How tired had he been to take this long to notice? Or was he so used to it now that it felt normal?
No one would ever be allowed to know of the wave of comfort the familiar weight over his body offered. But for good measure, just in case that imp had discovered a way to read minds, Alhaitham shifted and groaned uncomfortably. Thunder rolled again and Kaveh flinched, instinctively hiding from the bright light against the crook of Alhaltham’s neck.
“Cliché fear of storms…” The Scribe spoke a little louder than he absolutely had to, but seeing no response from the other, Alhaitham could breathe easy again. He looked down at the sleeping face of his senior and sighed. The Light of the Kshahrewar was indeed a fitting title. Too pretty for his own good. And for Alhaitham’s sanity.
Without registering his own action, he leaned down and planted a soft, comforting kiss to the top of the other’s head when he felt Kaveh flinch at the sound of thunder again. No one would ever know, and both of them could sleep better like this. Surely there was no harm.
Alhaitham felt himself growing drowsy, his eyelids heavy, and a strange sense of peace as he was reminded of the familiar weight breathing rhythmically over his chest.
He would never let Kaveh know this, but perhaps they had evolved into mutualism at last.
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