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I love you.
That’s all Alhaitham thinks of.
That’s what he thought of when Cyno laid beside him the night before, flushed cheeks and solemn gazes. Alhaitham had had that thought, strikingly clear- he’d reached over to brush Cyno’s hair behind his ears, and thought, again, that he could lean over and whisper it, if it would’ve meant anything.
I need you.
That’s what he had tried to say, but the words had tripped over themselves, and he’d murmured, instead, “let’s forget this.”
How pitiful.
And now he wakes up in the morning, bleary-eyed and lonely, and wishes he had said something, and that ‘had’ could’ve simply been removed if he had been logical.
So illogical.
Alhaitham closes his eyes and breathes out, like he did when Cyno was sitting beside him, ethereal in the midnight light. Mournful. Dreadful. But not avoidable.
He’ll continue the day, not quite because he’s okay, but because it’d be irrational to stop.
That’s what he tells Kaveh when the blonde stares at him a little longer. It’s what he tells Lesser Lord Kusanali when she asks him. And it’s what he tells himself, because for the most part, it’s true.
He clears his whole schedule for the day, shuffling his papers into his assistant’s hands and attending the sole meeting with a dull sense of regret. He clears it as if he wishes that Cyno would come, that the closure he provided was simply not the closure Cyno would accept.
But the clock strikes noon and Alhaitham sets down his book as he stares at his hands and wonders when he ever thought that Cyno would come to him, seeking forgiveness when, in essence, he has done nothing wrong. He wonders when he let himself slip up on words that he thought he used to understand, wonders when intimacy became such an imposing thought.
He is the fool- letting it slide out of his grasp; and yet, he can’t help but wonder, again and again- the use of grasp. As if Cyno was his.
He hates to think he isn’t.
Cyno doesn’t come.
-
It’s raining when Alhaitham returns home. He’ll be busy tomorrow, no doubt- being the Acting Grand Sage doesn’t quite mean clearing schedules without consequences. He’s alone, again, and this time, it feels less like a loneliness and more of a truth- perhaps, what he deserves.
It’s a miscommunication, a mistake. Alhaitham just has to let it go. He’ll continue with his life, not because he’s okay, but because he’s logical enough to know he’s illogical.
He’s upset. So much that it’s crazy.
Illogical, he says, because that’s the only thing that stops him from reaching.
-
It’s bold of Kaveh to approach Alhaitham.
When Alhaitham spots him at the dining table, later than usual, he’s sure that this is another poke at house keys or rent prices or simply another insult, but the look on his face is unmistakably grim. As Alhaitham sits beside his (also unusually) prepared breakfast, Kaveh looks up, and for once, Alhaitham can’t read him- he’s unnervingly unprepared for what comes next, and he hates it. Kaveh is anything but stoic- expressions are swapped within seconds, and above that, he is vulnerable, flawed, and an open book.
“Your food is cold,” Kaveh says, as if it’s a fact. Alhaitham glances at him, setting his fork down.
“I’m sure that was obvious,” he replies, slowly.
Kaveh continues to stare, eyes locked onto the plate. Then he shakes his head, that blankness locking onto Alhaitham. “No, Alhaitham- your food was cold.”
It’s only repeated, but it dawns on Alhaitham all the same. Not a fact- a deduction, and before that, reasoning.
Kaveh places his head over his hands, and the furrow of his brows reveal a slice of his regular self. The air he gives in interrogation is different, unnerving, and despite himself, Alhaitham startles through his stoic front.
Kaveh’s eyes flick to the side, and he pauses, as if considering his next words, which only proves Alhaitham’s hunch. “I saw Cyno that morning. He startled me- I almost thought it was you. He looked upset.”
Then Kaveh breaks his seriousness, shutter revealing an indignant accusation with one hand slammed against the table and another pointing a finger at Alhaitham, who only stares. “And now you’re acting strange! Everything you do is always straight, set out, but you’re confusing me; Cyno has morals, so do you- why aren’t you following them?”
Perhaps he hadn’t given Kaveh enough credit, though he could’ve simply made this conclusion from obvious evidence. And here Alhaitham thought he was being discreet. “It’s complicated,” he says, crossing his arms, leaving his breakfast untouched. “I am following my morals, as you call them. It’s a matter of external factors.”
Kaveh opens his mouth, as if he wants to argue- then he stops himself midway, leaning back with a sigh. His expression melts away, making for a pensive one. Alhaitham has never been good at finding what exactly Kaveh gets upset about.
Kaveh pushes his chair away and stands up, reaching for his suitcase below. “It’s not my issue,” he says, as if that weren’t already obvious. He shoots Alhaitham another incredulous look before leaving.
Since when has Kaveh ever cared about Alhaitham’s personal life? Was it because of Cyno’s involvement? Last he had checked, the two weren’t even all that close. Perhaps an agreement with Tighnari?
Alhaitham stares at his food. He shouldn’t care, either way. Things always untangle themselves. He’ll make it out of here, sooner or later.
-
Alhaitham catches him at the House of Daena the next day.
He’d just finished his meeting, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt not to pull it out, and that’s when he saw him- Cyno, with several books in his hands, despite no longer attending the Akadeymia (and Cyno had no interest in research anyway- he’d told Alhaitham so, when they were something more than colleagues.) The sight of him was like a spark of hope, and he’d grasped onto it desperately, until his hand brushed against Cyno’s arm and the latter turned to him with urgency.
The look on Cyno’s face is not of hope. It’s cruel, distant, and nothing like it was that night. He positions his body away from Alhaitham. “Acting Grand Sage,” he greets, though his voice is cold.
Alhaitham swallows. It’d be too informal to say everything he’s meant in a work environment. “General Mahamatra.”
Cyno nods, then makes to continue walking, but Alhaitham grabs onto his arm, as if it means more the last time. Cyno’s eyes flicker to him, again, drawn down in a disapproving way.
“I was hoping to speak to you,” Alhaitham begins. “I… didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Likewise,” says Cyno, smoothly, even though he knows perfectly well Alhaitham spends the majority of his time in the House of Daena. “I’m afraid I have matters to attend to. Perhaps another time?”
There’s none of the familiarity that Alhaitham spent months building between them in his voice. It’s a cold, sharp reminder of that day wasted on petty hope for Cyno to come. Whatever thoughts had held him from speaking his mind disappear. “Cyno,” he breathes, using the name that he’s not sure he has permission to use anymore. “I cleared everything for you that day.”
It’s supposed to be a confession, an admittance to commitment, but Cyno’s eyes only narrow further, and he doesn’t seem to take the message Alhaitham is trying to put across. “You’re angry at me.”
Alhaitham blinks, but doesn’t respond. The words catch in his throat again, the need to explain fogging his mind. Cyno takes this as a yes.
“I’m afraid we’ll never see eye to eye if that’s the issue here,” Cyno says, and his words are more sour than Alhaitham remembers. “Must I remind you that we have our duties?”
“That’s not-'' Alhaitham tries to get it out again, but ‘I love you’ is too brash, and he searches for a different way to word it, losing Cyno’s attention in the process. “That night, it’s not what you think it is. I-“
“‘-want you to forget it’? That’s what you told me. And you still expected me to visit you?”
Cyno is right, utterly right, but not in the way Alhaitham wants him to be.
Cyno drops his voice lower, but not any softer. “I’m not a doll, Alhaitham. That goes both ways- in treating me gently and in throwing me around. I wouldn’t have minded if it weren’t you. Do you understand now?”
Alhaitham needs to prove that he does, but he stands there, as if he doesn’t.
“I thought our time together was a development for your understanding of feelings. But it seems I was wrong.” Cyno takes a step back when Alhaitham’s grip falters. “I don’t blame you. That would be illogical.”
Illogical.
Alhaitham closes his eyes when Cyno leaves. He lets the disappointment soak through him, then turns curtly on his heels to walk away.