Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A thump-sound greeted Alhaitham, when he entered his home. It was caused by a pile of books, now spilled over the floor with their colourful covers looking up like a meadow of flowers in his home. He hated flowers.

“Kaveh, don’t put your books in front of the doorframe!” No response. With a huff, Alhaitham crouched down to pile up the books that had titles like The secrets of architecture vol. 4 or 101 different ways to design stairs. Why did one need so many different stairs? He liked his simple ones very much. No frills needed.

The culprit for this mess laid in the living room, surrounded by a fort of sketches and opened books – probably 102 ways to design walls as the continuation from the first book.

“Kaveh!” Alhaitham snapped.

Finally, his roommate looked up from his work with a big frown. “Don’t you know it’s rude to disturb an artist, while they’re on a streak of inspiration?”

“So inspiration manifests itself in utter chaos now?” Alhaitham tossed a bunch of sketches off the couch and earned an annoyed glare from Kaveh, who put the sketches right back at their previous place.

“Don’t get so worked up over nothing. I’ll clean it up later.” Without sparing him a second glance, Kaveh hunched over his sketchbooks, scribbling down loose forms and sharp lines. It looked like his fingers moved to a rhythm only he was able to hear. Beautiful yet annoying.

“You said the same thing yesterday,” Alhaitham said.

“Then why are you asking, if you know the answer?”

“Brat.” At least the Chaos hasn’t breached the kitchen yet. Besides some unwashed dishes and a few papers, it looked like the tidiest room in the house. After Alhaitham’s own room of course, because Kaveh wasn’t allowed to enter this one.

To his surprise, the pita pockets in the fridge were untouched. He had harboured little hope to actually enjoy his dinner, before it fell into the claws of his roommate. Pita pockets provided a full stomach and valuable nutrients without consuming too much time to cook. A perfect meal.

And Kaveh thought so too, judging by the way his eyes fixated on Alhaitham’s dinner upon him re-entering the living room. “Are there more in the kitchen?”

“No, these were the last ones.”

“Didn’t expect anything less of you,” Kaveh scoffed. He put down his pen and tried to snatch a pita pocket from the plate, but Alhaitham pulled away just in time. The food trembled dangerously.

“If you were hungry, you should have cooked yourself or bought a meal.”

“I’m a busy man.” He tried again, but Alhaitham hold the dish out of his reach once again. Like toying with a cat and a rubber mouse, Kaveh didn’t gave up reaching for his roommate’s dinner and looked equally adorable. Kaveh’s persistence knew no bounds.

“Busy with what? Making my house a mess?”

Kaveh’s expression soured into frustration. “I got a big job for an Inn in Shneznaya. If you’d seen the Mora they’re offering, you would understand.”

“Does this mean you can finally pay rent?” Alhaitham enjoyed it a little too much to shift the plate away right before Kaveh caught it. Especially the following flicker in Kaveh’s eyes, it lit up with a mixture of determination and annoyance each time.

“Not that much, but enough to get the debt collectors off my throat for a little longer.”

Finally, Alhaitham gave in and let him swoop a pita pocket from the plate. Kaveh grinned and took a large bite, as if fearing his newfound meal would soon be ripped out of his hands. In his eagerness, Kaveh chocked and nearly threw up the bite. When he stopped coughing, his head resembled the colour of ripe sunsettias.

“Careful,” Alhaitham warned. “The living room is mess enough without you puking on our carpet.”

“If I wasn’t so hungry, I’d do it out of spite.” More careful this time, Kaveh continued eating his pika pocket. In a few bites, it vanished into his mouth completely. He scooped up the remaining crumbs, letting nothing go to waste. He wasn’t usually that concerned about food waste and his growling stomach confirmed Alhaitham’s suspicion.

“When did you last eat?”

“The only food an artist truly needs is creativity and a cup of coffee,” Kaveh proclaimed, while wagging his index finger in the air.

“That doesn’t even make any sense.” Alhaitham knew a man his age needed around 3000 kilocalories a day under the assumption of doing light work (like drawing for example). A cup of coffee provided around 4 kilocalories, but maybe creativity was a real calorie-bomb.

“Someone like you could never understand the ways of art. The most creative thing you’ve ever done were your insults.”

“So, this means you don’t want my other pita pocket? Already feasted enough on your so-called creativity?”

Kaveh’s eyes lit up immediately. He hesitated for a moment as if contemplating, whether to swallow his pride or continue with the façade. He must have been really hungry, because it only took him a few seconds to decide and reach for the other pita pocket.

Alhaitham pulled away again. “Only if you promise to clean up tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay, will do.”

Only then, he allowed him to take the dish and Kaveh finished it just as quickly as the first one.

Alhaitham shook his head. Apparently, Kaveh cared about his bodily needs as much as about chores. Underneath the pure annoyance, it sparked a hint of intrigue in him. How could a person get so lost in their profession to forgot everything else? Some called it passion, Alhaitham called it reckless. Yet he couldn’t deny it was fascinating to watch him get this excited about such impractical matters as art. He talked about it with such confidence, it nearly made Alhaitham believe, that art wasn’t that pointless.

“You got what you wanted. Quit staring.” Kaveh passed him a bitter look, before continuing his sketch.

“I didn’t intend to stay any longer anyways. Besides regular meals, 8 hours of sleep are mandatory for peak performance.”

“Are you mocking my sleep schedule?”

Leave it to his roommate to take offense on everything. “No, I only insinuated I would go to sleep now. Good night, Kaveh.”

“Whatever.”

The next day, Alhaitham got a feeling of Déjà-vu, when a pile of papers collapsed as he returned home. At least it wasn’t 101 ways to design stairs again to block the door, but this didn’t mean anything changed – in fact, the mess only worsened.

“Kaveh!” It was easier to move through the jungles of Sumeru than the hallway to the living room. “You promised to clean up today.”

“I know, I know. I’ll do it-”

Alhaitham slammed a fist on the table. The pile of books quivered and papers flew off the table. “Can’t I enter my home without tripping over your stuff for once?”

“This stuff is valuable research material. I thought you of all people would know to treasure such.” Kaveh put the book back on the table- Oh Archons, it really was 101 ways of designing doorframes. “Besides, the Akasha has barely any information on creative topics like art or architecture. Do you know how hard it was to get my hands on those books?”

“If the Academia didn’t bother to include knowledge on such matters into the Akasha, then this might be you cue. Why should I care, how my stairs look as long as they don’t break underneath my feet?”

Alhaitham knew he pressed all of Kaveh’s buttons, when the sparkle returned to his eyes, making his red iris rival the glow of hot ember. “Think you’re really smart, huh? Even the most rational person like you is not immune to the unconscious influences of architectures. Take the building of the Academia for example – the use of large space suggests great power, combined with incredibly detailed and elaborate patterns to emphasise the importance and wealth of the place. They want to show you, just how much Mora they poured into the building, how much power runs through those halls. And have you ever noticed the colourful windows that paint rich colours on the floor, if you enter in the early morning? It is an enchanting feeling that reminds you, you stepped on sacred ground. Don’t deny that! And don’t underestimate, how the design of your surroundings influences you emotionally. You’re only human too.”

“Well, our current surrounding makes me feel pretty bad.” Alhaitham kicked some dirty laundry on the floor. What did Kaveh’s shirts do on the couch anyways? “Are we being a hypocrite, Mister architect? The use of placing books in my way really gives the kind of enchanting feeling that makes me want to scream.” Despite all, Alhaitham couldn’t contain a smile. There it was, Kaveh’s passion he’d never understand nor share, but this didn’t mean, Alhaitham was opposed to observing it.

Kaveh shook his head and let out a dramatic sigh. “That’s the problem. You see trash, where I see art. All those sketches on the floor are inspiration. And this inspiration led me to this.” Kaveh hold his sketchbook high, puffing out his chest like a proud child showing his mom the fancy stone he found. “Look me in the eyes and tell me the Ice Palace doesn’t radiate comfort and power.”

Kaveh’s sketch showed a huge building that looked like it was made out of the ice surrounding Shneznaya’s landscape, combined with elements of white marble and silver outlining the doors and windows, forming a triangular pattern. Wide stairs lead to a round door made out of pine wood and warm candle light shined from the inside, making the place glow like a lonely star in a winter night.

“Look, the bluish stone and the candles will create a great contrast between warm and cold – as in colour theory I mean, not the temperature. The dark pine wood accents go well with the lighter marble and the bigger sharper shapes are interrupted by smaller dynamic shapes in the patterns.” Kaveh explained so eagerly, he nearly tripped over his words. “It’s supposed to feel like carved out of ice, but filled with such delicate details to not make it appear rough and repulsive. If the sun hits the building at the right angle, it will glow like gems and draw attention of any wary traveller, looking for a place to stay for the night. It’s genius!”

“Or the traveller goes blind by this gigantic mirror of a building. If the weather’s good, it must hurt to look at.” Alhaitham squinted his eyes just at the thought of it. Must be like staring right into the sun.

Kaveh crossed his arms in front of his chest, tilting his chin upwards. “I am not letting my design be called ugly by a person that doesn’t care about its stairs’ appearance.”

“I didn’t say it’s ugly. It looks quite alright, but you should really consider more stone and less transparent material to save everybody from losing their sight.” While Kaveh possessed a great richness of creativity, he tended to overlook the practical issues. The stairs might look like made out of stardust, but what was it any good, when they crumbled just like it as well?

“It looks alright?” Kaveh sucked in a sharp breath as if deeply offended. “I worked on this for weeks! This must be the hundredth sketch.”

“So that’s why our home looks like this.” If Alhaitham actually paid attention to those pesky papers laying around everywhere, he could spot the resemblance to the final sketch, albeit not all sketches showed buildings.

“Has that been part of ‘work’ too?” Alhaitham picked up a drawing that slipped under a pillow, covering half of it, but showing enough to make out human features. The person leaned against a wall, brows furrowed in a frown and strains of grey hair fell over his face. A tight black shirt hugged close to the muscular figure and a forest green cape fell over his shoulders with a dendro-vision attached. Unlike the rough sketches littering their living room, this drawing was fully rendered and cleanly outlined.

“Give that back!” Kaveh wasn’t good at snatching things out of Alhaitham’s hand. Let it be pika pockets or drawings. Alhaitham was always a bit faster, as if he could sense his roommate’s next move, after living with him for years.

The drawing reminded him of someone… “Is this… me?”

“Obviously, you blockhead. It was just some quick anatomy practices though- don’t think anything funny.” A tint of red crossed Kaveh’s cheeks as he grabbed for his drawing.

He couldn’t help, but be impressed with how observant Kaveh had been. For someone whose head constantly wandered in the clouds, the drawing got every detail of Alhaitham’s attire right. “It looks quite realistic. But with the invention of cameras in Fontaine, you shouldn’t bother with it, when a photo takes only a few second. I doubt you can draw that fast.”

“I didn’t draw this to have something to look at you though. I drew this to understand the structure of the human body and you are conveniently around pretty often. Human bodies have no sharp structures unlike most buildings but instead rounded and curved forms – it is a nice change, when working for too long. Besides-” Alhaitham wasn’t sure anymore, if the embarrassment or the anger caused Kaveh’s face to turn this red. “you make it sound like drawn portraits are useless in the day of cameras. In fact, stylization and exaggeration can’t be captured by soulless machines. They will never be able to recreate the controlled play of colours nor the beauty of the imperfection. Bigger heads, unrealistic proportions, they all serve the purpose of conveying a message or atmosphere. Cameras can’t do that.”

“Speaking of imperfection, you still haven’t cleaned up and even worse-” He pinched his nose, sighing. “you waste all your time on pointless impractical drawings. Stylization is just a pretty word for those being unable to capture reality properly in their art. You don’t mess up a door and say ‘Sorry, the unpractical small doorframe was on purpose’.”

“Enough!” Kaveh slammed his sketchbook shut, his hands gripping tight around the cover. “Stylization and exaggeration are the core of art, not the demise of it. Living with this level of ignorance truly drives me insane.”

“If you really can’t stand my ‘ignorance’, then you are always free to leave,” Alhaitham countered without batting an eye.

“You know what? I might just do that,” he snapped back. “At least, that way I could escape your lectures about why art and architecture sucks.”

“See how far you get without any Mora.” Unfazed by empty threats, he added on a more serious note, “Besides, I never stated ill intent against the arts, I simply look at matters critical.”

He knew he crossed the line when it wasn’t a flicker in Kaveh’s eyes anymore, but a raging wildfire, so close to devour Alhaitham and slap him with his sketchbook. “You can’t insult everything I do and call it simply being critical.”

Alhaitham raised his hands in a placating manner. “Don’t you think you’re-”

“Shouldn’t you go to sleep by now? You know, for your perfect 8 hours rest?” Kaveh’s voice dripped with so much venom, it would put a viper in awe. One look at the clock and – oh, it was one of those rare cases, where his roommate wasn’t in the wrong.

“Ignoring the hostile tone, yes, you’re right. I should in fact go to sleep now. Good night, Kaveh.”

This time he didn’t get a reply back. Not even a muttered “Whatever”.

Alhaitham opened the door with upmost carefulness – expecting to bump into a pile of papers or books, but nothing hindered his way tonight. Not even a 101 ways to design window frames. Did Kaveh actually clean up?

Suspicion sprouted within him, when the hallway to the living room was equally devoid of sketches or similar. At least the laundry on the floor eased his concerns a little. The suspicion grew into a throbbing dread in his chest at this rare suffocating silence that filled the whole house.

“Kaveh?” Alhaitham’s voice sounded much louder without any other sound to compare to. No rustling papers or scratching pens.

He found the living room to be just as desolated. While still messy, all traces of Kaveh and his works had vanished into thin air. Finally, one could see the periwinkle of their couch, when it wasn’t buried underneath drawings. Kaveh picked the colour, claiming it would set a “calm mood” or whatever.

The other rooms provided the same result. Kaveh was nowhere to be found. The only evidence that he’d ever existed were some unwashed dishes and dirty clothes on the floor along the regular mess.

He’ll probably come home later today. Usually, it was the other way around and Kaveh returned from the Academia early (apparently because he could focus better at their home), but usually Kaveh didn’t clean up this willingly either.

Alhaitham decided to not dwell on irrational concern and instead use this newfound freetime to make dinner and to continue with his studies. He cooked a little more than necessary, knowing how Kaveh loved to neglect his hunger. But if he pointed this out, his roommate would pout and quote an inspirational art quote that didn’t make sense. He’d say “Sleep is like pita pockets. I don’t get it” or similar nonsense. The thought of it caused Alhaitham to smirk reluctantly.

After he finished dinner and spent more time on his studies, Kaveh still hasn’t returned. The sun has long hidden itself beneath the mountains, giving way for the night to take its position. Around this time, Alhaitham tend to go to sleep, but something told him to stay up a little while longer, so he did.

The clock hit early morning. Still no sight of his roommate. Alhaitham sighed. Because of this brat he would miss valuable sleep, which in turn took a negative effect on his efficiency.

His patience snapped, when the darkness of the night nearly transformed into daylight again. It shouldn’t concern him, but a nagging restlessness tortured his mind. It was as if he could feel a disaster approaching like animals could sense earthquakes. This unfamiliar silence gave too much room for unwanted thoughts to ring loud in his mind.

“If you can’t stand me, you are always free to leave.”

“You know what? I might just do that. At least, that way I could escape your lectures about why art and architecture sucks.”

But Kaveh didn’t mean, what he’d said yesterday. Their arguments, no matter how heated, always cooled down quickly afterwards. Considering past experiences, he calculated a chance of 1.05 percent that Kaveh would actually move out. Maybe this was the 1.05 percent case, where his patience ran out. Besides, Kaveh was a riddle Alhaitham had yet to figure out – something he adored about him, no matter how often it made his blood boil.

Their usual banter about the chores had Kaveh worked up, but he only looked furious, after Alhaitham shared his critical thoughts about his design and art in general. Which wasn’t an unnormal occurrence, but this night didn’t seem normal to begin with.

No matter the cause, to silence the pesky voice inside him, he’d need to find Kaveh himself. A surge of cold air greeted him, as he stepped outside and began his search around Sumeru city. He had to be somewhere.

Chapter Text

A wave of relief washed over Alhaitham, as he recognised a familiar blonde figure stumbling near the taverns, after exerting all other possible options about Kaveh’s whereabouts. An annoying search that cost him another valuable hour of his sleep. Tomorrow he’d need a strong coffee.

The relief was overshadowed by concern, the closer he got. Kaveh looked like someone died. Eyes red and swollen like he cried for hours, skin as pale as a corpse and when he met Alhaitham’s gaze, he narrowed his eyes and turned the other way. His steps were wary, close to tripping and both his arms clutched a stack of papers tight to his chest. Was yesterday to blame for his poor state?

“Wait!” Alhaitham had no trouble catching up to Kaveh, grabbing him by the arm and immediately smell the wine.

“Leave me alone!” His words mushed together; voice hoarse. Kaveh ripped himself out of Alhaitham’s grip, tumbling and crashing into a street light. A few papers escaped him and drifted to the ground, landing right before Alhaitham’s feet. The same sketches that previously littered the floor of their living room.

“Careful.” Alhaitham picked up the drawings and hold his hand out to Kaveh, but he refused to take any help. Saving his last pride, his roommate pulled himself up by the street light. The alcohol had washed away his usual grace, normally moving just as swift as the top of his brush over his paintings, when inspiration struck.

Now, it was as if something sucked all the life out of Kaveh, leaving behind a breathing corpse. After regaining balance, he already moved away again, not even sparing Alhaitham one last look, when he headed for the opposite direction.

“I came to apologise.”

Kaveh hesitated, then halted in his tracks. Alhaitham couldn’t tell, whether the sound he made was a chuckle, a cry or a weird in-between.

“Stop mocking me,” Kaveh spit out the words like they were poison in his mouth. “My day was bad enough without your antics. You never apologise for anything. Oh Archons, forbid the great scribe would ever get something wrong. The world will end, the day you actually say sorry.”

Alhaitham swallowed a sharp counter. Not the time to argue. “This would be most unfortunate, because I quite liked this world. But I am serious. I want to-”

Kaveh spun around faster than a Rishboland tiger. “Why are you still here? Isn’t this enough already? Why do you want to see me suffer even more so badly?” A few tears spilled over his cheeks, the smudged eyeliner dripping down like droplets of red paint, being an artwork even in his lowest moments.

The sight gave him goosebumps. “You misunderstand. I don’t-”

“Quit talking already.”

“Let me finish my damn sentence!” Alhaitham pushed a hand on his roommate’s mouth, before he continued to utter blunt nonsense. Kaveh struggled, but the alcohol also robbed his strength. “Will you finally listen? I find no pleasure in your pain nor do I desire to mock you. In fact, it hurts me to see you this devastated.”

Kaveh’s resistance stopped and Alhaitham removed his hand again. The following silence was different from the one he knew. Not viscous and heavy, weighting him down in his unnatural silent home, but more like crackling electricity, only amplified by the sudden proximity. Kaveh’s fast breaths felt hot against his throat and it made the hairs on his neck stand up. “So,” Alhaitham said. “Will you let me apologize now?”

“You actually want to do this?” The shock broke through Kaveh’s alcohol-induced daze, but didn’t save his words completely from slurring. The smell of alcohol hovered around him like a stormy cloud.

“Yes.” Alhaitham took a deep breath, bidding time when he looked up slowly. He got Kaveh’s full attention – glossy crimson eyes opened wide; pupils dilated. Nevertheless, the apology struggled to cross his lips, being such a foreign concept to his tongue. If it wasn’t for Kaveh’s desperate gaze, smudged eyeliner mapping out the way of his past tears, the apology might have gotten stuck in his throat forever, until it eventually suffocated him.

When Alhaitham finally spoke, his voice was reduced to a barely audible whisper, rivalling the sound of a wind breeze wavering through the rainforests. “I am… sorry.”

“What? I can barely hear you.”

“I am sorry.” He sighed. “Sorry for being so harsh with you yesterday. In truth, I’m thankful you are so keen to work and bring home some Mora. Despite my nagging, I actually think you are quite skilled in your craft - It’s still an unpractical craft, but that’s beside the point. So please, move back in. The silence in our, or well, now rather, my home creeps me out.”

Kaveh made a chocked noise. At first, Alhaitham thought he was crying again, but then he saw the wide grin. Kaveh laughed. Laughed so hard, he nearly made acquaintance with the streetlight again. “You…” His breath hitched. “You think I moved out? Really?”

So that was the thanks for opening-up. Great. “You said so yourself yesterday. You’d rather move out than live with my so-called ignorance.” He crossed his arms in a defensive stance, heat rosing up his face.

Kaveh chuckled, lips morphing into a smile so tender, Alhaitham swore to imprint this rare memory into his mind forever. “Silly scribe, use that massive brain of yours. I am not mad at you. Besides, where else would I go? I am in debt and jobless. But I appreciate your apology nevertheless. Must have missed me pretty bad, huh?”

Alhaitham ignored the teasing, something else caught his attention. “Hold on - Jobless? Didn’t you work on the job for the Shneznayans?”

Kaveh’s smile died.

“The Shneznayan Inn, the Ice Palace, right?” Alhaitham asked again. “It’s hard to forget, when its image plastered our floor for weeks.”

“Don’t remind me of it.” He thought he saw Kaveh frowning, but it was hard to tell, when he turned his back to him once again. The spark of light he’d seen just second ago extinguished just as quickly.

“What happened?”

Silence. Kaveh looked like he thought about running away again like earlier.

“Don’t ignore me. Tell me, what is going on.” Cold dread crept up Alhaitham’s spine like a feline predator, whose presence he noticed too late to fend it off. If Kaveh wasn’t mad at him for their past argument, this meant something else was the cause. He had a hard time deciding, what to feel about this progression. Relief? Fear?

“I won’t give you a reason to make fun of me,” Kaveh muttered so quietly, it could have been a figment of his imagination.

“I won’t. I promise.” Alhaitham placed a hand on Kaveh’s shoulder. He didn’t know what drove him to do just that – being just as surprised about his gesture as Kaveh. Surprise transformed into the shadow of that tender smile, so he kept his hand there.

“What does it matter? Tomorrow all of Sumeru will know about it anyways.” His tone was dripping with bitterness. Kaveh seemed so defeated, so small, despite their negligible height-difference. “This noon, I met up with the investors. They were ‘difficult’ to communicate with and my usual charm did nothing. Shneznayans really are as cold as their homeland. In their presence, I feel like I’m their mere slave for their stupid Inn and not a well-respected architect. Nevertheless, I showed them my design-suggestion and they changed their demands once again. Larger building frame, less fragile patterns, different materials. I got used to indecisive clients, but this had to be the 13^th time they requested major changes. At one point, I thought they were purposefully messing with me. I only tolerated this, because they paid a grant sum. At least I thought so. Due to my so-called ‘slow work’ and ‘flawed design’ they intended to lower my wage by 100,000 Mora and threatened to cut it by another, if I don’t hurry. As if the disrespect towards my work was not enough.”

Kaveh paused and checked Alhaitham’s face for any sign of mocking. When he found nothing, he continued. “At this point, something snapped in me. I worked on my precious Ice Palace for months and these men acted like I put down some scribbles ten minutes before the meeting. I… I maybe lost my temper and gave them a piece of my mind. You should have seen their faces; As if I just committed the worst crime in all of Sumeru’s history. The head-investor even teared my final draft into pieces in his rage.” At that, Kaveh flinched as if the memory physically hurt him. The fruits of his effort ripped apart in seconds.

“The businessmen were furious, told me, I should consider myself lucky they showed patience for so long and supported my ‘mediocre’ designs. Things got nasty. One even had the nerve to tell me, any child could come up with designs better than all I’ve fabricated. And most importantly – you will like this part – how all my designs neglect the practical issues. Pretty on paper, but an ugly failure in reality. His words, not mine. When the argument got physical, I fled the scene. They refuse to pay me now, of course, and even worse – they threatened to sue me for breaking our contract. I’ll be in even more debt and the work I put into the Ice Palace; it is all in vain. It drives me crazy to know the all-nighters I pulled for this cursed Inn only added more debt and humiliation. All those months… all for nothing now. It’s like documenting a library worth of books, just to see it go up in flames all at once, to put it into a metaphor your creative-less mind might understand.” Kaveh’s bottom lip quivered and the glossy expression returned to his eyes, when he clenched his hand into a fist. “This is your cue to say ‘I told you so’ by the way.”

“What kind of heartless creature are you taking me for?” Alhaitham gave Kaveh’s shoulder a light squeeze, fighting the urge to dig his nails into skin. He’d love to make those investors acquainted with his fists, bruising the mouth that uttered so foul words, breaking their bones like they broke Kaveh’s dreams. His anger didn’t reach his voice – perfectly concealed after years of practice. “Those ‘businessmen’ have no right to talk to you like this. This certainly violates the laws of commerce and trade too to change the wage on a whim, if you agreed on a certain sum in advance. You could sue them back. Also for destruction of your property, public humiliation and threatening you with such baseless claims. Maybe a night or two in jail would teach them a lesson.”

Kaveh’s chuckle was devoid of any happiness. “Wow, I must look really pathetic, if even you feel sorry for me,” he whispered.

“Elaborate?”

“You usually hate me. Probably takes a lot of your self-control to not snap at me for whining, huh? Knowing, I’ll drain your finances now even more, after losing this job too.”

“Hate you?” Alhaitham blinked. No, his ears worked fine. Kaveh really just said this. “As so often, dear roommate, you are absolutely wrong. How did you even get that idea?”

Kaveh’s lips curled into a bitter-sweet grimace, tipping on the edge of looking unhinged. “The only thing the debt-collectors couldn’t rip right out of my hands is my craft – and you miss no opportunity to look down on that and whatever is left of my architect career. Constantly arguing and fighting over the most mundane things. How should I not think you hate me?”

“Then riddle me this.” Alhaitham lowered his head and tipped Kaveh’s chin up, until he was forced to look at him. “If I truly despised you, would I give you shelter, pay for all of your expenses and allow you to turn our home in a paper-jungle? Would I give you my last pita pocket, because I knew you didn’t eat all day? Would I sacrifice my eight hours of sleep to search for you, because I worried? Would I, who rarely admits being in the wrong, apologize?”

Alhaitham’s voice softened, a smile sneaking back to his lips. “Kaveh, I never saw our debates as a mean to look down on you. Rather, I enjoy listening to an opinion that differs so greatly from my own, it keeps my senses sharp. Your strong will offers a great refreshment from these yes-men at the Academia, who parrot everything they hear, never coming up with an original thought. In all honesty, I don’t understand art like you do and never will, but I can sympathise with the passion that pours into every project you do. You are practically glowing each time you talk about your work. Even if I don’t fully agree with what you’re saying, I respect, no, admire the ambition behind it. It leaves me wishing I could ever harbour a similar passion for something. And even someone as ‘ignorant’ and ‘uncreative’ as me can see your Ice Palace is nothing like the Shneznayan investors made it out to be.”

Kaveh’s mouth fell open, but no sound escaped. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatened to spill over. “Is the wine playing tricks on me or did you really just say this?”

“I did. Better remember it word by word, because I won’t repeat myself.” Once was embarrassing enough.

“Thank you. I…I am sorry too. I feel so ungrateful now.” Kaveh slumped boneless against Alhaitham’s shoulder, clawing on his forearm to prevent himself of falling.

“Don’t worry about this.” Alhaitham hesitated, before he wrapped an arm around Kaveh’s back and drew him in a little closer. He’d seen people at the Academia do it with their friends, when study-stress broke them. Alhaitham wasn’t a particular touchy person, but Kaveh seemed to relax a little beneath the hug and this was all, what counted. If he pulled away now, Kaveh would probably just fall to the floor, having no energy left to hold himself upwards.

“Now that I don’t have a job, I’ll have a lot of time for chores left. Guess I kinda owe you this, hm?” Kaveh’s attempt at an optimistic tone failed. Alhaitham felt him shiver and more paper slipped and rained down to the sidewalk.

“Forgot about the chores. And if I may ask, why are you carrying all the sketches? They will stain.”

“Let them. Just looking at these drawings makes me sick. I wanted to burn them or throw them in the sea, but then you interrupted me.”

Alhaitham shook his head resolutely and tightened his grip. “That’s a waste. Both for the environment and your work. If those businessmen can’t appreciate your design, someone else will surely.”

“The drawings are flawed.”

“Isn’t the beauty of imperfection a core-part of art?”

Kaveh’s chest trembled, when he laughed. This time it was genuine. “Never thought I’d hear you say this.”

“Technically, they are your words. You told me something along those lines yesterday.”

“Hm, maybe I did. Didn’t thought you’d still remember.”

“Keep the drawings for now. You won’t regret it. I promise.” Alhaitham nudged at Kaveh’s side, giving him a slight push. “Let’s go home. I made dinner.”

“Pita pockets?”

“You guessed it.” Alhaitham smiled. “But seems like, this will be rather a breakfast than a dinner.” The sky already took on a lighter shade of blue and the early birds sang their songs.

By the time they reached their home and ate dinner in the living room, the first rays of sunshine already broke through the window and drew a glowing pattern on the floor.

The pita pockets had gone cold and mushy, but judging by Kaveh’s grin, one could think he was served Fontaine’s delicacies. In the dimmed light, his eyes sparked up with that sense of passion he had, when talking about his artworks. But this time, he looked at Alhaitham and not his canvas, as if he was Sumeru’s most beautiful painting. “I think, tonight I just fell in love with you the second time,” Kaveh muttered, before his eyes went big and he realized which words just slipped his half-drunken mind. “I, uhm, the alcohol- Nevermind…”

Alhaitham could only smile at the sight. A warm feeling bloomed in his chest, full with so much tenderness he couldn’t put into words. Romantic and words were supposed to be Kaveh’s forte – not his own. He was better at speaking through actions, so he shifted over to his roommate on the couch, until their knees touched.

This gesture made Kaveh’s stuttering fall silent and his head perked up. So close, Alhaitham could tell, he hold his breath, anticipating the scribe’s next move. Sitting perfectly still, as if the slightest movement could shatter the moment they’ve created.

Alhaitham’s thumb slid over Kaveh’s cheek and brushed the red stains away that were evidence of his past tears. Then, he leaned in, until blonde strains of hair tickled against his own cheek. He gave his roommate a second to push him away, if he judged his move too bold, but instead, his skilled hands travelled up Alhaitham’s back, gripping his shoulders with the grace of fingers that hold a brush with the same carefulness.

Kaveh was the first to close the remaining distance. Their lips barely touched, as if Kaveh feared this was just a dream he’d soon wake up from. Eventually, he figured this was reality, because the hesitance faded and he deepened the kiss. Alhaitham sighed and allowed himself to move even closer, wrapping his free arm around his roommate’s waist, drawing him in closer. He tasted the fade note of wine and got equally intoxicated by it, as the world around him faded into a blur and only Kaveh remained in focus.

By now, Alhaitham sat on his roommate’s lap, gripping onto Kaveh’s back to hold himself in place, as they exchanged tender kisses. Caught up in the moment, he bit down a little on Kaveh’s lip and felt him shudder. Alhaitham placed an apologetic kiss on the spot.

“Haitham…” Kaveh’s face glowed, when he pulled away and his breath came out in shudders. The confident façade crumbled to a puzzled yet beaming expression. “You managed to surprise me once again tonight.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

He chuckled. “And modesty isn’t one of them.”

Alhaitham returned the smile and let his fingers roam through Kaveh’s hair, his heart beating a little faster, when his roommate leaned in against his touch. “Let’s continue this later. Unlike you, I don’t think I’ll be of any use, if I pull an all-nighter.”

Kaveh pretended to pout, but the gentleness in his voice gave him away. “Not fair. And if I brew you an extra strong coffee perhaps?”

“Kaveh.”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” That was a lie, because Kaveh still didn’t let go of him, so Alhaitham opted for his roommate’s chest as the alternative to his bed. Laying this close, he could make out Kaveh’s accelerating breath, before it slowly returned to normal. Only now, Alhaitham recognised how heavy his eyelids felt and how comfortable his roommate could be as a make-shift pillow. “Good night,” he muttered in a sleepy daze.

“Good night, Haitham.” Kaveh brushed through Alhaitham’s hair and it was the last thing he remembered, before falling asleep.

Chapter Text

Alhaitham awoke to skilled fingers combing through his hair once again. When he angled his head to fit right into the palm, the chest he slept on shivered.

“Good morning, dearest roommate,” a voice purred.

Alhaitham mumbled a “Good morning” in return, before he slipped back into the warm daze of his half-sleep. The exhaustion of the past night has turned his muscles mushy and head heavy. He wasn’t used to go to bed at the first rays of sunlight and the comforting scent of Kaveh, somewhat flowery, further fed his sleepiness.

Something nudged his side. “Not used to stay up for so long, huh? Never seen you so out of it.” The warmth of Kaveh’s hand vanished. “You look a lot less serious, when you’re only half awake. I should immortalize this sight it in a painting, what do you think of that?”

“Sure.” His brain wasn’t awake enough to argue.

“No objections? Thought cameras made realistic paintings redundant?” There was no hurt in Kaveh’s words but a withhold laughter, as if he found a sleepy scribe incredibly amusing.

“Cameras don’t beam with passion, when they take a photo, but you do when painting.” Alhaitham stated it with the same confidence of declaring the sky to be blue.

A pause. When Kaveh raised his voice, he sounded sheepish, a little flustered. “If you say so, then I’ll get right at it after we ate breakfast. Well, lunch would be more appropriate to say.”

“Lunch?” Alhaitham shot up straight. In his eagerness, he nearly fell off their couch. Warm sunlight flooded the room. “How late is it?”

“Don’t shout! I’m still hangover.” Kaveh rubbed his aching forehead, but judging by his pained expression it did not diminish the alcohol’s remedy. “Don’t know? Noon?”

“I should have been at the Akademiya hours ago.” Alhaitham stumbled off Kaveh and a part of him yearned to lie back down and enjoy the comfort a little longer. “I need to rethink my schedule. I can cut corners, if I shorten my break and…”

“Relax, the world won’t end, because the scribe slept in.”

“They don’t pay me for sleeping in though. One of us has to bring home Mora.” Alhaitham regretted his words the second they left his mouth. The pain spreading over Kaveh’s face was not the wine’s fault this time. “Look, I didn’t mean it like-”

“I know.” Kaveh plastered a smile on his lips. It looked fake. “Hurry up, grand scribe. Maybe you get there, before lunch break starts.”

Alhaitham felt like he should say more and correct his statement. Instead, he did exactly what Kaveh suggested and left quickly for the Akademiya. Even though he didn’t drink one drop wine, his skull ached. The last night seemed like an odd dream, but waking up in Kaveh’s arm proved it wasn’t. Despite all, it felt strangely right to start the morning like this.

At the Akademiya, he finished the paper work swiftly and delayed less important meetings for tomorrow. There was something urgent he needed to do, before the day came to an end.

Alhaitham couldn’t suppress a smirk, when his shoes smacked into a familiar book, as he entered their home. It lurked underneath the wardrobe and seemingly escaped Kaveh’s attempt at cleaning up.

101 ways of building bridges. His finger left bloody imprints on the cover, when he picked it up. Alhaitham groaned. Bending down sent a prickly pain through his body, where the shards of broken glass had hit.

Better take slow and calculated moves, he reminded himself to prevent the cuts from opening up again. Luckily, the way to the living room was equally tidied up, if one chose to overlook the loose papers and traces of paint. Chaos followed Kaveh like a shadow. At least that way a few more red splotches on the floor didn’t raise unwanted attention.

Kaveh sat at his usual place, bent over the table with a pen in his hand. However, instead of outlining buildings, graceful dynamic lines swung across his canvas, forming the silhouette of a man. The sketch was loose, lines drawn numerous times over and over, then erased again. The erasing left foggy stains on the paper, exposing the artist’s uncertainty.

“Working again?” Alhaitham asked.

“Not really.” Kaveh slumped into their couch with a sigh. “I can’t bring myself to work on a real project right now, so I opted for some sketching to get my mind off of… you know. With human anatomy, the forms and lines aren’t following a ruler. It’s less static and different from my usual workflow. Like carving out of stone, one starts with the bigger shapes and refines it with further details and smaller shapes.” Kaveh sat up and drummed his pen against the paper. “But I keep messing up the perspective. Stress puts a strain on my creativity and no matter, how often I refine the sketch, it just-”

Kaveh looked up and dropped his pen. “Oh Archons,” he whispered. “You’re bleeding on our carpet.”

Alhaitham followed his gaze. Their once-white carpet just gained a new pattern. “You have no right to judge me. Your paint stains our furniture far too often.”

“It’s not the stained carpet that’s bothering me. It bothers me, how you look completely unbothered. You, the kind of guy to freak out, if there are a few crumbs on our carpet. Are the injuries that bad?” Kaveh stood up and took Alhaitham’s wrist between his hands, trailing with his thumb over the cuts tearing his skin apart. The touch so careful, as if the slightest amount of pressure would break him. It made the corner of Alhaitham’s lips twitch upwards.

“Tell me, with whom did you start a fight this time?” Kaveh sighed, but unlike their usual bickering, he didn’t sound annoyed but worried.

“Why are you assuming I initiated a fight?”

“Your nature is drawn to debates and the cuts on your arm resembles human’s blades and glass shards, not claws of Rishboland tigers. Therefore, I conclude you got into a disagreement with someone, who treats different opinions with fists and swords.”

“Good eye, Mister architect. Use that sharp talent of yours to continue with your drawing.” He wanted to pull his hand back, but Kaveh’s grip turned firmer.

“Haitham, what happened?”

“You already figured it out yourself. There’s nothing but minor details to add.”

“Then indulge me in your so-called minor details.” Kaveh’s eyes sparked with newfound determination as if this was some kind of challenge.

Alhaitham returned the favour with a sly grin. “I’m sure it would bore you.”

“As if I could ever get bored of you.”

The affectionate delivery of those words robbed Alhaitham of a witty retort. He could win any argument against his roommate, he was sure of it, but the barely-a-compliment left him stumbling for words.

Kaveh grinned, certain he had won that challenge. “So, mind telling me now?”

Alhaitham let out a long exhale. “I met up with those Shneznayan investors today. Coincidentally.”

“By the lesser Lord, what?”

“I encountered them by chance at the tavern and thought it would be most thoughtful to inform them of their misdeeds right away, so they could brace themselves for a possible lawsuit.”

After the surprise settled, Kaveh examined Alhaitham with a piercing gaze, as if he could read his thoughts, if he stared long enough. “Something tells me your thoughtful gesture was not appreciated.”

“Indeed.” He thought back to the confrontation, while he briefly explained what happened.

Alhaitham had entered the tavern around noon, when the Shneznayan businessmen dined as they did each day around this time according to the chatty bartender. Said bartender was coincidentally taking a break. They were alone, coincidentally, meaning no witnesses for what was about to come. So many great coincidences. Bless the lesser Lord.

The businessmen usually stayed for two hours, starting with some quick dishes in the first half hour, before they indulged into Sumeru’s beverages, preferably Omar Khayam wine. A drunken mind meant weakened reflexes. A pity, if they were to get into a fight.

When the bartender took his break, Alhaitham approached the Shneznayans. He calculated a window of approximately 30 minutes, before the break ended and the lunch-guests filled the tavern to the brim. Subtracting 5 minutes to exit the tavern unseen, 25 minutes should suffice. Efficiency was his specialty.

A man with redden nose and lengthy frame noticed him first. “What you starin’ at?”

This had to be Aadesh, the head-investor. Alhaitham read about him in the Fontaine newspaper The Steambird, where he made headlines on a regular basis for his hot temper and infinite mora purse. A man, who measured a human’s worth with his money. No wonder he looked down on Kaveh. Alhaitham’s research suggested his poor roommate was not the first unhappy cooperation that ended in front of court.

“My apologies, gentleman. I just thought you resemble the description of Mister Aadesh a lot,” Alhaitham said without letting his disdain seep into his features.

At that, Aadesh puffed out his chest like a proud child that was told he drew the best stick-figures in day-care. “Perhaps because I am him.” He turned to the other businessman. “See, Naagchand. My reputation travels faster than I do.”

Alhaitham huffed. “It puzzles me as to why this should be something to be proud of. The only kind of reputation the whispers on the street convey, is that you are some hot-tempered scammer, who exploits those unlucky enough to haven’t heard of you.”

“Lies spread by those, who envy my wealth.” Aadesh wrinkled his nose. “A scholar of all people should know better than to trust anything they hear on the street. Don’t you learn at the Akademiya to support you wild theories with proof and evidence?”

“Correct. If your memory is failing you, I would be just too delighted to show you some evidence,” Alhaitham replied sweet as honey, but his expression lacked all softness. “Namely, the most recent case. The renowned architect Mister Kaveh and your cooperation for an Inn in your homeland. While I am not acquainted with Shneznaya’s laws, in Sumeru, black-mailing, destruction of property, assault and breaking contracts is illegal. Just to name a few accusations. You don’t have to remember it, I’m sure you’ll hear it often enough in court. Maybe you even spot some familiar faces; heard you’ve been there a couple of times.”

Aadesh’s fist slammed down on the table. Their wine spilled. “Who do you think you are? Uttering words you don’t understand the consequences of.”

“Grand Scribe Alhaitham of the Akademiya, a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was soaked with sarcasm.

“Rein in your tongue. I know what your kind is after. Take this bag of Mora and keep your wild ‘theories’ about my work for yourself.” Aadesh slid the money over the table without sparing him a second glance. The disinterest of a man, who threw Mora at all his problems.

Alhaitham picked up the bag, weighting it in his hand. The urge to throw it at the man increased the longer they talked. “Bribing, huh. Really keen on bending the law until it breaks?”

“This level of ungratefulness. Don’t you know when to shut up?” Aadesh grabbed the bottleneck like a weapon.

It shattered into dozen pieces, when it clashed with Alhaitham’s sword. Screams. Hot pain cut his arms open and the red drops on the floor weren’t the wine alone.

“Look what you have done!” Aadesh’s red head rivalled the colour on the ground. His bloody fist was quick to follow his words.

Alhaitham dodged with ease. Grim satisfaction sprout within, when the head-investors crashed into the counter, pushing a few glasses over the edge. A second of distraction Alhaitham regretted, when his back was pushed against the floor. He rolled around only to be met with a blade to his face.

“Don’t you dare to insult the boss like this,” the other Shneznayan screamed. His bony fingers quivered around the knife. He wouldn’t dare to stab. Alhaitham ram his knee between the man’s legs and tossed him away.

Aadesh’s heaved himself up, already out of breath. He charged at Alhaitham again, but those hands only knew how to count Mora, not how to throw a punch.

Alhaitham jumped aside to avoid the attack, then spun around to ram his fist into Aadesh’s stomach. With a chocked cry, the businessman fell to his knees. It was music for his ears. That’s what one got for messing with the scribe’s roommate. But to redeem the caused pain Kaveh went through, one punch would not suffice.

The second guy still recovered from the kick that could forever extinguish his dreams of ever becoming a father. But where did the third man go?

Alhaitham received his answer in the form of a hit to the head. It rained glass splitter and the scent of wine exploded in his face. For a few seconds, the world went quiet like being dragged underwater. Amateur mistake, I got myself distracted by emotional nonsense. Slowly, the sound returned and Alhaitham found himself laying on the floor.

“Ha! This will show him,” the businessman cheered, turning to the others as if they hadn’t just seen it with their own eyes. Pathetic. Anyone with the slightest drop of combat experiences knew better than to let his enemy out of sight.

Alhaitham leapt back to his feet and swung the back of his sword across the man’s face. This shut him up, only to raise his voice again for a scream. The remedy for bad decisions.

Bringing his blade up high, Alhaitham slashed it down centimetres in front of Aadesh’s face, who audibly gasped. “This is my last warning, so heed it well. Don’t pull off any foul tricks during your remaining stay in Sumeru.” Maybe I should cut out his tongue, so it will never tell lies again. At this idea, a grim feeling rose in his chest. Taken aback by this irrational feeling, Alhaitham shook his head as if to shake the idea off as well. Such drastic measures would raise too much attention and he’d already paid for his other emotional move.

“You’ll hear from my lawyer,” Aadesh choked out the words, stumbling away from the blade so near to his throat. He looked close to tears. Good. Maybe this ‘exchange’ persuaded the man to never pull a similar scam like they did with Kaveh.

“Not if mine are faster.” The clock pressured him to hurry. Alhaitham spun around and left the tavern exactly 25 minutes after entering. Only then, as the Adrenaline faded, the agony settled in his body, making the way back home a trip through hell.

“You’re insane,” Kaveh whispered and shook his head, when Alhaitham finished talking. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole story, but his expression screamed shock and something that looked close to… worry? “Picking a fight with the Shneznayans, just for me?”

“Of course not just for you. I did it for Sumeru’s general safety regarding trade and commerce.” Alhaitham tried to cross his arms, but discarded the idea immediately. Everything stung.

“By shoving a fist in the scammer’s faces? You’re getting oddly emotional for our nation’s safety.”

“I cannot tolerate injustice. That’s all.” But Kaveh’s endearing smile reminded him of the real reason he fought the businessmen.

“The benevolent altruistic Alhaitham as we all know him. Yes, this doesn’t sound strange at all.” Kaveh snickered, before he dropped the sarcasm, smile turning sheepish. “No matter the reason, thank you anyways. Good to know they got punished for their deeds in some way. But you really should have looked out more for your own well-being.”

“The injuries are superficial, nothing to fuss about. If you think I look bad, you should have seen them.”

“And I am the reckless one.” Kaveh shook his head, but the tender smile from the previous night found its way back on his lips. “Wait, let me just-” His fingertips trailed down Alhaitham’s arm, closed around each glass shard it came across and ripped it out in one fluid motion, as if it was a dance, only he heard the music to. “Careful, you’re damaging our couch.”

Only then, Alhaitham realized how his free hand clawed around the fabric and he forced it open again. “I don’t need your help. I can do this myself.”

Kaveh laughed. “Did they hit your head too hard? You’re in no state to tend your wounds yourself.”

“Exaggeration might be essential for art, but this hardly applies to medicine. These are just some cuts.”

“On both your arms and hands and not a few. You won’t even know where the blood is dripping from, if you were to fish them out yourself. So, sit down and let me help you out this time.” Kaveh pulled out another splinter.

Alhaitham flinched, but kept quiet. Maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny bit of truth in his roommate’s words, so he sat back down on the couch.

When all the larger pieces of glass laid on the table, Kaveh’s finger slipped underneath Alhaitham’s glove and peeled it off. His arms looked like he ran through a bush of thorns. The cuts were scattered all over his arm, stretching until the tip of his fingers.

He couldn’t decide, what hurt more. The injuries or Kaveh’s horrified look. “If you can’t handle the sight, then I just-”

“No way.” Kaveh hold Alhaitham’s arm in place with all the strength he could manage without causing harm. Which wasn’t a lot, given the situation. “Don’t move. I get a towel to clean up the wound.”

He sighed. “Not the white ones please. I just washed them yesterday.”

“I noticed, because I actually put them back in the drawer for once.”

“You actually cleaned up? This day keeps getting weirder.”

Kaveh rolled his eyes and - luckily – returned with a grey towel. Fair enough. The way he wiped away the blood seemed more like he caressed Alhaitham’s arm, but even a touch so soft set his freshly bruised skin ablaze.

The grey towel turned into a dark red towel. Kaveh put it aside and started picking out the larger shards. When he pulled out a piece that cut deeper, Alhaitham groaned.

Kaveh’s hand brushed over the spot gently. “After you endured this, it will get better. Promise.”

“No flowery words today, Mister Architect?” Alhaitham muttered through clenched teeth.

“Thought art and medicine don’t mix well, was it not?” All mockery was drowned in a voice so soft, it barely sounded like his hot-tempered roommate anymore.

Kaveh spotted the glass shards with ease. Alhaitham himself didn’t saw some them, until it caused a fresh pain to run down his arm and laid in his roommate’s palm. No wonder a man with this eye for details became one of the best in his profession.

If he didn’t know better, it was easy to mistake the piling glass pieces for bloody jewels, stolen right out of a dead merchant’s grip. But the only criminal thing was the quietness that settled over the room. Kaveh’s focus never left the injuries for one breath, being to absorbed to pass witty comments back and forth. He had leaned in so close, Alhaitham saw every detail of those crimson eyes that were fully focused on his bruised arms.

Usually, the Akademiya provided high-ranking figures like him with peak healthcare, but no matter how much Mora travelled through those hands, they couldn’t compare with Kaveh’s gentleness, who acted as if one wrong move hurt himself as much as Alhaitham. If one splitter stuck especially deep and therefore hurt a lot more when pulling out, Kaveh would put his free hand on Alhaitham’s leg in a comforting gesture.

And now he did it again, but didn’t pull out any glass shards. “This will sting a lot, but we can’t risk an infection,” Kaveh warned, before he poured a colourless liquid on a cloth and spread it over the cuts. His fingers rested once again on his leg and it did feel strangely soothing.

A small smile crossed Alhaitham’s lips. “You act like I’ve never been injured before.”

“Most scribe’s worst injuries are paper cuts; yours blade cuts. Truly no ordinary scribe.”

“And it took you this long to discover that?”

Kaveh wrapped bandages around the injuries, before he bent down and placed a kiss on Alhaitham’s wrist. “No, I always knew you were special.”

Feeling his face heating up, Alhaitham cleared his throat and a strange warmth settled in his chest. He barely recognised his own voice, sounding unusually flustered. “Just… just continue with tending the wounds, alright?”

“Fine then, I’ll let you off the hook this time.” Kaveh gave him a wink and proceeded to put bandages around the cuts. Sly rascal. Alhaitham shook his head with a grin. He’d beat up some Shneznayan scammers again for this man.