Work Text:
On the first stroke of pencil on paper, the sun is high at noon and the light filters through the stained windows of the House of Daena.
It’s rare that Kaveh and Alhaitham could coexist peacefully at times like this. Often they would bicker in the library until the librarian threatened to kick them out. It’s a surprise they haven’t been banned yet with how much banter and debate they do on a daily basis.
Their final exams are coming up so it is imperative for them to study in order to finally graduate from the Akademiya. The library is crammed with students pouring every last energy into their books, absorbing every individual word in hopes it could carry over to the looming test papers.
Kaveh isn’t doing the very same thing in this case.
Usually, the future architect would take these matters very seriously as his entire future relies on passing the final assessment. Still, the individual sitting across from him is admittedly very very distracting.
Alhaitham. Haravatat scholar. His mirror. His other half. And the bane of his existence.
This particular individual is not doing anything interesting of note, no. Alhaitham is doing what he normally does every day– reading a book. It’s mundane to most but everything this man does is so interesting to Kaveh.
After all, how can someone look so incredibly pretty doing the most mundane of things?
It frustrates Kaveh to no end. It keeps him up most nights more than his studies do. It plagues his thoughts in every waking minute of the day. Why give the prettiest of faces to one of the most infuriating men on teyvat?
Unfair. Incredibly unfair.
It’s also unfair to Kaveh’s heart how simply seeing the man himself makes him internally do backflips and somersaults. Maybe it’s an illness; a deadly one that one day if he catches a mere glimpse of Alhaitham he could suddenly just drop down and die. He could try inquiring the doctors in Bimarstan about it, he’s in due for a health checkup anyway.
He swears one day, in the distant future (or now, Kaveh would be perfectly fine with it), Alhaitham would be the cause of his death.
So Kaveh copes by drawing in his sketchbook.
The figure in his sketchbook is starting to take its shape. Kaveh sneaks fleeting glances at the individual across from him, taking note of the finer details that people don’t normally notice unless they look very closely. The few locks that have pale turquoise undersides, orange-ringed yellow pupils, the curve of his near-flawless nose, and the way the light filters through make him an ethereal work of art.
Stupid gorgeous Alhaitham. Kaveh sketches down every last detail, afraid that missing a single one would be deemed irredeemable in the language of the arts.
Art is the language of love Kaveh fluently speaks. If one would skim the pages prior to this one, most of them would be Alhaitham. This particular sketch in progress is different from the other ones, however. It’s tranquil, with no expectations of bicker and banter that they are so used to filling their time with.
It’s the moment of rare peace that Kaveh captures in this sketch. Alhaitham is very intelligent, excels in debates, and delivers facts with calculated precision, but sometimes, sometimeshe is much prettier with his mouth shut.
Alhaitham, in all of his looks, personality, and aspects as a person is undoubtedly a very interesting person, particularly to Kaveh.
So Kaveh continues to move his pencil, determined to capture Alhaitham’s likeness and the rare tranquil moment they both share.
On the last stroke of pencil on paper, the sun has noticeably moved from its highest point in the sky, and the figure in Kaveh’s sketchbook has finally come together as one cohesive piece that would undoubtedly be one of Kaveh’s best sketches of Alhaitham.
With a self-satisfied hum, Kaveh shuts his sketchbook shut.
Alhaitham must’ve finished reading by the time Kaveh was done sketching because he doesn’t waste time asking if he would like to go to Puspa Cafe with him to grab some coffee.
Kaveh laughs. “Only if you’re paying.”
It’s years later that Kaveh finds the sketchbook again.
They now live under the same roof as roommates, perhaps something more but neither of them has yet to speak of it. They still bicker and banter daily that would span through Sumeru City and Port Ormos message boards. How no one has banned them from the message boards, Kaveh has no idea.
The sketchbook in hand is fairly old and dusty that dates back to the Master Architect’s Akademiya days. He remembers this sketchbook– he recalls those days as a more peaceful yet stressful period of his life. Many nights were spent perfecting his thesis and stressing over his finals. His finals.
Kaveh distinctly remembers his finals because–
Ah. There it is.
The very sketch of Alhaitham reading a book across the table in the House of Daena. It’s as lovely as Kaveh remembers it despite being outdated. He traces his fingers over the lines as he’s mentally brought back to the past.
The Alhaitham in the sketch is less toned compared to the present one. Archons know how much current Alhaitham’s assets really show through the tight black top he wears. He’s just a scribe, why does he need to be so built for? Does he benchpress for every page he reads? It’s truly unfair to Kaveh’s feeble heart.
Alhaitham in the sketch, Kaveh remembers, is slightly less infuriating than the Alhaitham in the present. The to-be scribe would often offer to go somewhere and pay for the meals. Alhaitham of the present still does this but he’s more annoying about it, unfortunately. There isn’t much comparison beyond that, it’s just Alhaitham is generally easily more tempered (to Kaveh specifically).
The piece itself looks like its own little world, unbothered with the troubles of the outside world like Alhaitham normally is. Perhaps, one day, he might draw a more refined, finished version of this piece to be properly hung up somewhere (if Alhaitham would let him).
Kaveh is glad he kept this sketchbook when he moved into their shared house because if anything, Kaveh is a very sentimental man.
“I wasn’t quite aware you were this obsessed with me. If I had known, I would’ve never offered to let you move in with me.”
That smug bastard.
“How long have you been standing there?!” Kaveh yells, flushing red in embarrassment. He had instinctively snapped the sketchbook shut, hiding it behind himself where his roommate won’t visibly see.
Alhaitham smirks. “Long enough to see the full contents of the page. Although it’s quite a lovely sketch, was this the reason why you never cracked a single book open when we studied for the final exams in the House of Daena back then?”
“You-!” Kaveh hugs the sketchbook close to his chest. “It’s none of your business, Alhaitham! It doesn’t matter anymore because I passed the exams with flying colors and that’s what’s important!”
“Passed or not,” Alhaitham points out. “You were never exactly discreet when you would draw me in your sketchbooks. If you’d asked politely, I would model for you if it means keeping you quiet for a few hours.”
Kaveh was already halfway into the kitchen by the time Alhaitham was done speaking. “I’m done with you! Do you want dinner or not?”
Alhaitham merely laughs in amusement. “Only if you’re cooking.”