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Long days didn’t exist for me.
Routines make up my unwritten schedule along with the expected myriad of transcripts piled on my desk every morning that never seemed to run out. Though that poses no problem at all since I’m not required to finish everything within the day. If I did my work too well with no notable benefits on my end, then what is there to look forward to the next day?
Absolutely nothing. My life is simple, I do what I have to do in the given time that I am compensated and that’s the bare minimum that the people I work for deserve. As soon as the clock’s weary hands point at the numbers 12 and 5, I know my time’s up. It’s the only life I’ve ever known to live and I plan on keeping it that way for as long as possible.
So yes, long days don’t exist. But long hours certainly do.
With just a simple maneuver, the inner workings of my headset spring into life, leaving my surroundings as empty as they should be with no disturbances that could ruin the rest of my day as I stood up without saying goodbye to my fellow colleagues. They knew better than to try and get a word out of me, nor did they expect a reply no matter how hard they tried to get my attention.
People have too much time trying to make something out of nothing when they should really be focusing on themselves and how they can make a bigger impact on their own as opposed to relying on others for help. Such simple ideas could sprout into bigger things if one had the curiosity to nurture them instead of relying on the once prominent Akasha system that effectively brainwashed everyone of their own independent thinking.
These thoughts always ran through my mind despite the silence that enveloped it. It’s not as if it was permanent anyways, given that this technology isn’t perfect and was never meant to be.
It’s rare for me to have plans beyond my working hours yet I settled for having a meal outside before heading home. It wasn’t anything fancy. In fact, anything that required little to no thought into eating was convenient enough for me so as to keep one hand busy whilst holding onto the deteriorating spine of the book I was able to procure over a week ago that I have been wanting to delve into.
There was always something about older books that I liked. Whether it be the texture of the cover or the color of the decaying pages, I had long admired their dexterity and how most of them stood the test of time without withering away like a leaf would if it were crushed underneath my unrefined steps.
I didn’t want to get into it too much too quickly as I’d rather settle for reading in the comfort of my house. What I like about the city is how everything is connected in its own way, how each road or pavement led to another place that caters to whatever you need regardless if you were a local or a visitor.
The lush greenery always seemed to make itself known no matter how many man-made architectures sprouted from the ground up through innovations that are constantly evolving. I had hoped that I could let more citizens live comfortably no matter where they were, but all I was left with is the relics of what once was an ambitious project fueled by inspiration and feasibility.
Oh, and now a roommate I suppose. One which, I was surprised to see when I got home.
I entered the house quietly, not really minding if anyone was in or not. It was just the way I always made my presence known as if I ever needed to anyway. The lights were on, but just dim enough to see through the hallway and living room as it led to an even bigger room towards the end where I saw Kaveh working on yet another project that would probably never come to fruition.
Seeing him sketching buildings to death was not an ideal situation for either of us, but it was not my place to tell him to stop whatever he was doing since in his mind, it’s what pays his bills— or at least he probably thinks it does. Otherwise, why would he need to keep putting my name on the tab? Why does he always suggest going somewhere together so we can split the cost when he and I know that I end up paying for everything anyway?
Countless questions starting with “why” never left my mind, yet I still let him live here and annoy me endlessly. If this was anyone else, I might have kicked them out by now. But how come with Kaveh, I don’t seem to mind? I could no longer count how many times I have threatened to do so and with every attempt, all I got was an angry retort about how I should be grateful to have someone do the chores and keep things in order.
If he’s so content with fixing someone else’s life, there’s no doubt that he can definitely fix his.
But that’s something I can’t say to his face. I’m already blunt enough as I am, I don’t need someone sobbing, crying, or whimpering their sad sob stories in front of me. I simply don’t know how to comfort another person that has been too affected by the sharpness of my words, though they shouldn’t have stretched themselves too thin in the first place.
“I guess someone didn’t forget their keys this time,” I said, as I made my way to the room at the end of the hall. Half of me expected an aggressive retort saying “It’s not just your place you know!” or maybe something along the lines of “Unlike you, my working time is flexible!”
But none of those words came out as I was met with a sight that I rarely had the chance to see.
It’s now new to me to see Kaveh sleeping after having passed out on the street or on our front door on the occasion that he does forget his keys. For someone who can be quite irrational with a somewhat defensive nature, it was a bit of a shock to see him hunched over his, or rather my, desk with his hands beneath his head with his eyes closed and hair a ruffled mess.
Kaveh is the type of person to never let his guard down even if he was in a losing battle. He always had something to say, regardless if it was logical or not, and he would fight to the death to get the last word in just to prove that he was right all along.
When he first moved in here, there was never a day that we didn’t argue over the most trivial things. That period of time really had me thinking about what on earth was my motivation to invite this madman into my house when he clearly has no sense of shame in critiquing everything I owned and acted like he owned the place.
Well technically, he did design this house. And it was meant to be for both of us. So when I had a random representative of the Akademiya inform me that he had no use of this place and already lived somewhere else, I was in a mix of disbelief and a false sense of relief that we weren’t going to bask in the fruits of once shared dream.
It got me wondering if he didn’t want to live with me at all but that couldn’t be true, at least not anymore, since he agreed to live with me now, years after our irrevocably childish dispute that he never seemed to have gotten over. I don’t really mind now either way.
He was always the more emotional one between us two and he valued emotional response over logical reasoning which is why our once harmonious relationship turned into the discarded basket of Harra fruits that it is today.
I sighed to myself, knowing that he won’t be able to hear me anyway with how deep his breathing is. He’s probably slaving away on another project that won’t even make a dent to redeem his overwhelming debt. As much as I wanted to help him out, I think I’m doing enough as is. I don’t want him to become too overdependent on me, but somehow I don’t want him to feel that I’m only doing this out of pity.
If anything, he should be doing everything he can to pay me back. My salary is not exactly the most lucrative figure that most people would only dream to have, but it was enough to afford me a comfortable lifestyle. One that has gotten less comfortable the moment I had another mouth to feed.
But alas, that didn’t stop me from going to the kitchen to brew ourselves a pot of tea. I know that long days didn’t exist for me but for Kaveh, it was all he knew and lived every single day.
I filled it halfway with water before lighting up the fire to let it boil as I sat down on a chair at the dining table. I left the book I was reading earlier in the living room but I just happened to have a spare one at the back of the jars on the counter.
I smiled to myself, remembering the times he would tell me off for leaving my things everywhere, especially my books that can accidentally get drenched in water or spices while cooking. Despite his temper, he does have a somewhat agreeable side to him that I wish he showed more of.
Quite a contrast from my usual daily reading, this book is actually fiction. If I recall correctly, a certain eclectic woman from Inazuma had visited Sumeru a few months back and promoted this novel on the streets as if it was more important than the newspaper.
I hadn’t planned on buying it at all but as soon as she said that proceeds would go to a future charity event, Kaveh spared no expense (literally), to buy it for me as a gift, claiming that it would be killing two birds with one stone. Admittedly, I had no idea of the nature of this so-called work of charity that this woman was promoting but unsurprisingly for Kaveh, everything is worth investing in.
Still, I accepted the book and it’s not as terrible as I thought it would be. Though there are supernatural elements that are clearly not scientifically proven, it made for an interesting read that I might just try to get my hands on more of in the future.
It didn’t take long for the kettle to whistle as it signaled the right temperature for me to take it off the heat before I placed a reusable teabag full of leaves and flowers that emitted a sweet yet calming aroma in the house. I was about to take two cups from the pantry before I felt a pair of arms embrace me from behind.
My body shook a little in surprise but easily relaxed knowing that only one person can do this without eliciting an immediate complaint from me.
“Are you making dinner?” he asked with sleepiness lacing his tone, making it softer than usual.
I turned to look back at him with a blank expression, wondering why he’d expect that much from me, especially since it hasn’t been long since I got home.
“It’s just tea. I already had dinner outside but I can make you something later.” I offered.
It’s not often that I willingly cook something for him out of my own volition, but seeing the subtle happiness on his face made it more worth it than I’d care to admit.
“You’re unusually nice today, Haitham,” he added, not even thanking me for the tea or my offer for a free meal. This Senior of mine really needs to learn some manners if he’s gonna survive in this house.
“I could be worse. You already know that.” I deadpanned, trying to break free from his grip but failing.
He must have been practicing with his claymore recently. Seeing as he’d been living an unhealthy lifestyle for years, it was about time he shapes himself up and not just his drawings.
Obviously, I have been training by myself too so naturally, I have my own kind of physical strength. But I’m getting tired and he’s just woken up from a nap so I’ll save the fight for another day— it’s bound to happen anyway.
Instead, I turned my body so I was now fully facing him. My lower back hit the counter behind me but Kaveh kept me in place with his right arm whilst the left slowly removed my headphones.
I don’t even know when I turned it off to hear what he was saying, but the moment my ears felt the warmth of his breath along with the soft caress of his hand, I moved my head to meet his touch as I closed my eyes to relish in our rather unconventional way of showing affection to each other.
Even without my vision, I could sense him leaning over my cheek to give me a quick peck. But that’s not going to be enough for me, and it will never be given the uninvited tension he always brings.
Just before his breath could fan my cheek, I abruptly moved my head to the left so his lips could directly crash onto mine. His lips felt soft yet firm against mine, as he kissed me deeply without no shock at all. It was like he had expected me to go for the kill as his kiss held all sense of clarity with no regrets at all, despite the fact that he had just woken up not too long ago.
I have to admit, sometimes Kaveh can be smart. And he chooses only the right moments to make use of that creative mind of his.
As he pulled away, I kept my eyes closed. Reveling in the moment before he starts rambling off again about some architectural piece that he found fascinating and why we should revive it in this modern age. But it doesn’t come. At least not yet.
All he did was keep the arm that was around me wrapped around in a hug as his other hand reached for the back of my head as he whispered, “Welcome home.”
It was clear to me but clearer to both of us that I have never been the emotional type of person. There was no pressure for me to become one and I had no plans to even consider being one. But right now, in the silence of my house that was slowly starting to become our home, I’m sure I can give him one thing,
He can have the final word this time.