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Al Haitham hadn’t always been hearing impaired, an accident neither here nor there had destroyed most of it. Just like he hadn’t always lived with the headphones that really were hearing aids, it was easier to pretend like nothing had changed. He didn’t need his “impairment” brought to light- his methods were already scrutinized by the rest of Sumeru’s scholars. Another reason to have them talk behind his back wasn’t one he needed-nor wanted, his friend roommate, Kaveh would have yapped his ear off if he could hear the thoughts Al Haitham had flying around his head.
Al Haitham would argue that being deaf made it easier for him to ignore what he didn’t even care to acknowledge. For instance, when Kaveh would beg to sleep in the same bed because ‘Al Haitham mine is so cold and lonely and I just think we need to conserve heat.’ Of course, Kaveh didn’t really care and would have hopped in even if he had been told no.
Another instance comes to mind when the traveler had passed through with that white haired flying person, which if Al Haitham can recall the name correctly it must have been Paimon, he had ignored the words she had called him when he had done what needed to be. A relatively insignificant little thing had said those words and so Al Haitham had waved them off.
A differing instance pops into his head, one where he hadn’t ignored Cyno, the ex(?) General Mahamatra, when he had spewed fighting words, alas the traveler had stopped them in both of their tracks to collaborate and make a plan. (That was easier said than done when Al Haitham thinks about it.)
Al Haitham had led the conversation, refusing to be left out for even a second, despite his thoughts drifting back to Kaveh and the project the blond had been working on, leaving him home alone, as it should be- Al Haitham abhorred being alone.
He can’t help but let his thoughts drift back to the doctor's visit, whilst he was assessing the work he’d be doing over the next few weeks.
In fact, he still remembers it all clear as day, it had been written down after all, he is sure he has the paper somewhere in one of his many books, he remembers the interpreter they had rushed in pacing in her spot, unsure of how to get the point across if the patient didn’t understand sign language.
----
The only reason the Scribe hadn’t immediately rushed to use Akasha to learn was because he was in shock. I mean really, him of all people? He’d always been so confident nothing would change his life like this, nothing besides his brains and brawn would make him stand out in a crowd. He hadn’t even thought he might have been deaf, feeling his eardrums burst had been an afterthought during the scuffle- and as soon as it had been finished he’d slept it off, not even worrying why his ears hadn’t popped and why everyone sounded so quiet.
At one point Kaveh had taken to just writing what he wanted down- voice hoarse from the yelling just to get Al Haitham to even look up from his book.
It had been Kaveh who had surprised him with an appointment to the doctor’s office. The blond man had actually blindfolded the younger before taking him, stating it was a surprise that while one of us might not enjoy it- the other certainly would be able to do so. He realized sitting there that it was going to be him who would not enjoy this little excursion- the doctors poking and prodding at him and his ears, writing down questions they’d wanted answers to or looking over at Kaveh.
“I can speak, you know?” Al Haitham had snarked, his eyes darting from one doctor to the next while their eyes widened, hands raising in the air. He could feel his ears strain as the doctors began to talk to him, rapidly blinking before squinting- hoping it would help him read their lips better. What he picked up, he did not like, one fucking bit.
“Hypoacusis… 60… decibels… testing for what range.” Akasha immediately filled him in on what hypoacusis meant- hearing loss. His heart had dropped and honestly, Al Haitham isn’t even sure it even came back up. The day passed in a haze, however Kaveh had the sense to ask if there were anyways to make hearing aids look closer to headphones or something a little more hidden.
----
Knock, knock, knock.
The pounding on the door pulls Al Haitham to his surroundings, the sun setting behind him, lighting his room up with golden hues and illuminating his roommate standing in front of him, signing at a speed that told its own story.
Kaveh clearly had a lot to say about his project, his signs getting more exaggerated and stagnated, his eyebrows high on his forehead and red eyes widening as he mouths along. ‘Fuck. me. I. guess?! Archons, it's like I don’t even talk anymore!’ His face pulls down, anger dissipating after a long breath. ‘And you? How was your day, my dearest?’
Al Haitham felt bad that all he had done was toy around with plans and rearrange his schedules so he could eat lunch with the older. However, he also knew that Kaveh adored the food he makes and frankly Al Haitham likes keeping his kitchen intact, thank you very much. ‘I will be able to eat lunch with you more often, that’s what I did today, I fixed my schedules so it would work.’ He signs back.
The deaf man likes to think he’s prepared for almost everything, Kaveh screaming would have been on par, Kaveh jumping up and down would have been on par for the course. What Al Haitham hadn’t been prepared for was the blond vaulting over the desk and knocking them both to the floor just for a hug. He opens his eyes to see Kaveh grinning and raising his hand, the thumb, pointer and pinky out, ‘I love you.’.
Al Haitham rolls his eyes, letting his fingers and thumb meet in front of his lips creating a smushed ‘o’ in place of whispering shut up. Kaveh proceeds to pull a face, his dominant hand coming up underneath his own chin before flicking it out towards the man under him. Only a fuck you from Kaveh could feel so electrifying. A moment that might be too long passes between the two and after a soft sigh and a look Al Haitham can’t decipher, Kaveh gets up and holds out a hand to help.
He snags it and lets out what he hopes is a stifled laugh, his eyes lighting up looking up into Kaveh’s crimson ones. After releasing Kaveh’s soft hand Al Haitham brings his hand up and lets his fingertips touch his mouth before moving it to cup his other hand which was facing down slightly curved, after making sure Kaveh was following he quickly followed it with both hands having his pinky and thumb extended and brought them up to his face before flicking them both away, his left hand falling to lay perpendicular with his waist and his right hand leaving just his forefinger extended right in front of his face before laying on top of his left arm.
A quick glance at Kaveh tells Al Haitham he was fine to move on to the next word, it had been hard to teach Kaveh since the older wanted to be more organic and not learn from the Akasha but from Al Haitham. So the gray eyed man did one more sign, both of his hands in a closed high five, facing up before drawing his eyebrows down and shaking both hands side to side.
“What’s for dinner today?” Kaveh mouths, his head still tilted as he tries to think of a response that would actually get made, before his eyes light up and he stumbles through fingerspelling ‘your curry’, making sure to let his left hand lay flat on his chest and makes circular motions, ‘please’. The other just rolls his eyes and nods, gathering his books and other items he wants to take to the house to peruse through before bed, before they head off. The sun is just barely in the sky anymore, letting it turn to hues of pinks and purples in the same place night will sit. Al Haitham can’t help but think that the reds that are just barely above the horizon match Kaveh and would make him look divine draped in such a vibrant color. He shakes his head and pulls himself back to earth away from such outlandish thoughts.
When they make it home, the stars had long since become their guide, zigzagging throughout the black blanket that was the night, the lamp posts becoming fewer and fewer before finally they reached Al Haitham’s abode, (when Al Haitham lets himself think about it, it really was his and Kaveh’s home, anymore.) Kaveh unlocks the door, having sped up a few paces when the home had started to come into view. Al Haitham can’t help it when a grin overcomes his face, soft and small, one that disappears as soon as Kaveh turns around and hurriedly signs for him to come to him.
‘Why, are you that hungry?’ The younger pokes at Kaveh, knowing that really the blond just adores the curry he makes. They both quickly get to work, chopping, cutting and slicing what was needed before making the rice and finally cooking everything, the aroma filling the small house. Truly, Al Haitham didn’t want Kaveh to move out, which was silly because it’s not like they cared for each other the way Al Haitham had let himself dream. It would have been cruel to himself to get used to someone so vibrant like Kaveh only to have another come and have it. He would be jealous when that day came, and oft found himself hoping it wouldn’t ever.
‘It’s done, I think, will you try some for me?’ Al Haitham signs, knowing that Kaveh wouldn’t disagree even if the food didn’t smell appetizing, (which is another thing Al Haitham is grateful for, the heightened sense of smell-which had its downfalls, but largely he’d come to enjoy cooking even more, the simplicity of it- he didn’t need to watch others when he was in the zone- there was no one but him and the food).
Kaveh looks him in the eyes as he opens his mouth, a silent yes and visibly melts into the spoon that Al Haitham places into his open mouth. The spoon vibrates with what the younger assumes is from Kaveh humming in pleasure. There’s a moment, again and this time it feels palpable, thick like Al Haitham would have needed a knife to cut it. There’s a blink or two from both of them before suddenly plates are being thrusted into his hands and rice is being scooped onto the plates and then the curry, and really when Al Haitham focuses on Kaveh, the blond’s face is flushed, like he’s sick or hot.
Over dinner the two continued talking, describing their day in detail- or atleast Kaveh was as Al Haitham listened, his day had been relaxing so he didn’t have much to talk about- this was not the case for Kaveh. His signing was progressively getting quicker and worse as his eyebrows grew more and more pinched. Kaveh’s eye began to swell up with tears before he just threw his hands down and started to heave his chest, a few tears slipping out. (Sometimes Al Haitham didn’t know what to do when this happened, the other loved touch, and at the same time, hated when people gave him hugs for pity.)
He reached over the table and grasped the other’s hand, clasping it firmly whilst his thumb ran over Kaveh’s knuckles. Al Haitham didn’t feel the need to speak in Kaveh’s presence, but the blond wasn’t looking up so he mumbles an “I’m sorry.’ This catches Kaveh off guard with the way he flinches and glances up. “No, I’m sorry, I know better.”
----
There had been a time when Al Haitham would have dropped everything to have everything be normal. Not his ears, no he was comfortable, but life before Nahida and before the traveler. Realistically he knows that life before wasn’t good. But it was something he was comfortable and used to the day in and day out things. Having the traveler come by really shook up all of Sumeru. Sumeru and the Akasha. She no longer worked- gone in the wind like some sort of idea that had barely existed. Most had already forgotten or gotten used to life without her. Al Haitham still had his qualms about such things. He hated to dream, hated to have nightmares. It wasn’t natural to him- it felt like he was a passerby in his own body.
Perhaps someone stronger than he shall come to haunt his body when he can no longer fend them off.
(Al Haitham knows this thinking is indicative of something swelling inside of him, wanting to rear its ugly head- he doesn’t want to know it- not even for a second.)
Days pass by Al Haitham noting only the time spent with Kaveh. He knows it can't be a good sign, but he finds little in him cares. Life passes him by while he adventures Sumeru with Aether.
Aether and Paimon have yet to move on, stating something about a quest and how these aranara are in need of help. Secretly, Al Haitham contemplates getting them a therapist for such delusional thinking.
--
On one particular day the deaf man had been reading a particularly good book, "How to Stop the Time War." Something about it had intrigued him when he had found it hidden away in the shelves of a trading stall.
There was nothing particular about this day, except when Aether waved a hand just outside of his peripheral view. Shutting the book, Al Haitham glanced over- Aether was particularly quick about his sign language despite coming from an unknown world. He called it 'Earth'.
Al Haitham on this day deferred to reading the (possibly) younger mans lips as he was asked to go on an adventure with them. It was going to be a bit obscure but Aether was certain that there would be plenty of information in the desert the scribe would like, and so without much further ado- they had set off.
It was a hike and Aether had not correctly told him just how far they'd be going. They passed through most if not all of the lush forest and the desert. When they had gotten to an upper corner of the desert Al Haitham saw the everlasting beauty of a massive tree. It had to be over 500 years old if not more. The sky above it glowed a purple to black hue and the area smelt like it was rotting.
He didn't know how many days it had been since they had left the city of Sumeru but steadily Aether began to climb the tree- so what could the tall man do but follow?
--
If Al Haitham is honest he couldn't recall much of the fight, he can't recall anymore than climbing the tree in the uppermost west end of Sumeru. He does not know how he got to a hospital. But he does know he will never forget seeing the faces of Aether and Paimon looking downtrodden as though they had forced him to come.
What he wishes he could forget is Kaveh's back, drawn up and taunt. Tight in all the wrong places. "Kaveh..." he had sputtered out, voice dry and hoarse from disuse. He could cry and he is certain it would not solve the cottonmouth feeling he is under.
Kaveh's body jolts and turns around with a quickness that could have matched the way he was two years ago.
Before the project in the desert.
The blonde's face is streaked, red and blotchy. His hair is unkempt and he lets out what Al Haitham knows to be a wail with the way his body contorts as it falls to the ground. His legs are spread out and his head is so close to the ground that for a brief second he looks as though he kisses the ground. When Kaveh raises his head, fresh tears well up in his eyes again and he starts all over again.
He's signing over and over again one word, 'Why'. Even without any questions being asked, Al Haitham knows he is in anguish.
Kaveh pulls himself up off the ground and looks squarely at the man in the bed. His eyes are ablaze now that he has slowed his crying down and the man is telling him about how selfish he was to go and not notify anyone, to leave and not think about Kaveh.
How much of an idiot he was being.
His roommate who is slowly getting closer is yelling at him about how the blonde was standing in the sun for over two hours when the other had first left. He had been distraught and even more so when Aether had come back dragging the taller's body.
Now Al Haitham, is a lot of things, from selfish to pigheaded to one track minded. He is not an idiot and he can't help but get hung up on this. He lets Kaveh know this.
It stops Kaveh in his tracks. His hands drop as his face contorts into disbelief. He asks Al Haitham if he would like to know why he is an idiot.
It causes the other to raise an eyebrow and lean in closer, like the secrets will be spilt if he can just get a closer look at Kaveh's blonde hair, or his red rubied eyes, or his lips or-
"I am in love with you, Al Haitham! Isn't that just the worst thing you've ever heard?"
And with this Kaveh stumbles out of the room. He allows Al Haitham to muse over it all for days. Even when Al Haitham has his feelings sorted, the older man does not visit.
Even when Al Haitham goes home, he does not find the blonde. So the scribe will search and let him with the words that fly around in his chest beating to their own drum, waiting patiently to fly up and out of his hands and kiss the one who has breathed life anew. Al Haitham is already practicing what he'll say.
"If being in love with me is just the worst thing, then I fear my being in love with you must be worthy of a decree of the highest punishment."
Today is not that day. And perhaps tomorrow isn't either, but maybe the day after will be. And for that? Al Haitham can hold on.