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Three crumbled pages taunted Kaveh as he ran his hands through his hair. Giving up on forcing out uninspired ideas, he abruptly stood up.
“I can’t afford to drink today,” Kaveh sighed, picking up the scraps of paper from his desk.
He looked back at Al-Haitham’s desk, noticing an unwelcome bowl lingering in his vision.
“Well, cleaning the house is cheaper than wine,” Kaveh deduced.
Kaveh preferred cleaning Al-Haitham’s workspace when he was stressed out, and his roommate allowed him to get away with it. Strangely enough Al-Haitham did trust Kaveh enough to allow him to put his hands all over his precious belongings, and Kaveh took full advantage.
“If you do a good job at cleaning, I’ll deduct the labor costs from your rent.”
“Yeah, right,” Kaveh mumbled out loud, dusting off books and reorganizing drawers.
Al-Haitham was a messy person. Given his logical and uptight behavior, most people expected him to be rigidly organized, but the opposite was true. Al-Haitham was lazy at best when it came to cleanliness. He was probably just as unorganized as a person as Kaveh, but both of them were bad in a specific way that would only annoy the other person.
Kaveh would forget to close doors, put away leftover food after a meal, and turn off lights before going to sleep.
Al-Haitham would leave behind cluttered piles, items would not return to where they belonged, and he would forget to dry wet towels outside.
At least they both remembered to clean the coffee kettle.
So, Kaveh took it upon himself to clean up after his roommate. He liked the stress relief of sweeping up Al-Haitham’s clutter anyway. Washing rugs and fluffing pillows, color coordinating book shelves and getting rid of dust; cleaning always cleared Kaveh’s mind when trying to refocus on a draft revision.
The best part was Kaveh finding all of Al-Haitham’s secrets hidden in every crevice of the house. There was nothing Al-Haitham would leave out if he did not want Kaveh finding it, so it was always a fun treasure hunt for Kaveh to uncover the personal history of his roommate: his baby photos. His first academic rewards. Even a toy bird he had from his childhood.
Kaveh would spend hours dissecting all of the small artifacts that gave hints about Al-Haitham’s past.
So naturally, when Kaveh found a box containing an assortment of jewelry, it was only necessary for him to sort through and hold up necklaces to himself while imagining himself wearing them. The box itself looked to be a small safe, but the lock did not work, allowing for Kaveh to open it easily.
“I am not surprised he’s a silver jewelry person,” Kaveh laughed to himself, neatly breaking up tangled chains as he gently sorted through the assortment of shiny metals.
His collection was beautiful, and Kaveh fell victim to looking too far into the variety of glistening jewels.
“So many green pieces,” Kaveh said in observation. His eyes were drawn to the variety of neatly colored rocks engraved into gorgeous bracelets.
Kaveh had no idea why Al-Haitham possessed so much jewelry, but he figured Al-Haitham got the collections from either his mother or grandmother. The consequences of a family having no daughters, but maybe one of them hoped Al-Haitham would marry a woman who would appreciate the family heirlooms.
Or, Al-Haitham could wear it himself.
He could also sell it.
In timing with Kaveh’s thoughts, he found a velvet ring box.
“They definitely wanted him to hand this down,” Kaveh whispered to himself, jealousy being an unexpected byproduct of his thinking.
Sitting rested on his knees, leaning down looking at piles of jewelry worth more than his savings account, Kaveh could ignore the melancholic feeling overcoming him.
He thought about Al-Haitham’s grandmother, a woman he never met, but still a woman he could understand more after seeing her old collection of jewelry. Years of love were preserved in the chains of necklaces and charms of bracelets, as each piece was either a gift or a well-earned personal purchase. Kaveh had never pictured Al-Haitham to be the sentimental type, being he only ever worked to get through another day without much thought of the past. Yet Kaveh held the ring box in his hand, thinking about the generations of Al-Haitham’s family.
Upon opening the box, Kaveh unleashed a Pandora’s box of nostalgia he was not even aware of.
For what rested inside the box was a beautiful gold ring, embedded with lovely red and white gems.
Before Kaveh could get any more emotional, he heard a front door open.
“Shit—“
Kaveh scrambled to put away the ring, wiping the corners of his eyes, and putting jewelry carefully back into its original box as Al-Haitham walked into the room.
Al-Haitham stood in the doorway, his large frame now occupying Kaveh’s peripheral vision, and Kaveh was on his knees and surrounded by sparkling objects.
“So, you have to rob me now to afford rent?” Al-Haitham sighed.
Al-Haitham remained in the doorway, his usual stern gaze shaming Kaveh from a distance.
“I was cleaning. I swear,” Kaveh quickly explained, standing up immediately.
“I see I’ve caught you with your tail in between your legs,” Al-Haitham said, folding his arms. “Care to explain why you have my grandmother’s jewelry scattered on the floor?”
Kaveh gulped. “I was cleaning, and I got distracted.”
Al-Haitham walked over, leaning down and grabbing the box full of jewelry. “I guess the lock is broken.”
Kaveh felt his face drain and his heart race horribly as he looked more at Al-Haitham spinning the box in his hands, rotating his grandmother’s box around to spot for damage. Kaveh’s eyes silently followed the way Al-Haitham’s fingers played with his family heirloom.
“You’re not in trouble, Kaveh,” Al-Haitham reassured, his voice being uncharacteristically kind. “Your explanation is enough evidence that you are innocent.”
“Why did you even accuse me of a crime in the first place? Is it that hard to have good faith in me?” Kaveh defensively yelled, a finger now pointing at Al-Haitham.
“It is because I find humor in it,” Al-Haitham smirked.
“Well!” Kaveh puffed his chest, putting his hands on his hips. “I did not find it funny. Your sense of humor is absurd.”
Al-Haitham lightly smiled. “I’m sure you will laugh about this later in the privacy of your room.”
“I’d at least wait until you turned on your soundproof headphones,” Kaveh mumbled to himself.
“I figured,” Al-Haitham responded.
Before Kaveh could dwell on Al-Haitham teasing him further, the box in Al-Haitham’s hands reminded Kaveh that had a pressing question he had to ask Al-Haitham.
“Was the ring also your grandma’s ring?” Kaveh questioned.
Al-Haitham paused, lowering the box and looking directly at Kaveh.
Even if Al-Haitham was intending to be friendly, Kaveh still felt like he was walking on eggshells when it came to personal topics.
“Yes,” Al-Haitham said. “It was her wedding ring.”
All of the color left Kaveh’s face, and his head felt light.
I PLAYED AROUND WITH HIS GRANDMOTHER’S WEDDING RING? HIS GRANDMOTHER GAVE THAT TO HIM? HE WOULD PROPOSE TO SOMEONE WITH IT THEN? Oh, god, the person Al-Haitham asks to marry is going to be asked with his grandmother’s ring.
“I thought you didn’t like the idea of marriage,” Kaveh stated, realizing his words were poorly chosen.
Idiot.
The topic of marriage and family had come up one time in a discussion with Tighnari and Cyno. A joke about Kaveh being a nagging housewife turned into Al-Haitham saying he did not care for marriage.
Kaveh had known why he was sad that day, but he refused to think further of the topic when the two of them walked home.
Still, Al-Haitham looked perplexed, and the air was different than that dinner conversation months prior.
“Depends,” Al-Haitham shrugged, moving closer to Kaveh. “What are your thoughts on marriage?”
Kaveh’s eyes widened, and from the softened looks of Al-Haitham’s face, Al-Haitham was no longer teasing him.
There were only two weddings Kaveh had attended in his lifetime. The first was for his mother’s friend, and the second for one of his seniors. Both of the occasions had been wonderful celebrations, even if Kaveh had attended alone.
Imagine finding someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. Isn’t that incredible?
Yet, a drowning wave of sadness lingered within Kaveh’s chest.
“I think it’s beautiful,” Kaveh quickly responded, his cheeks still flushed, his ears ringing. “I love weddings, and I love how people celebrate love together. There is something wonderful about people choosing to dedicate their lives to each other.”
Kaveh realized it was suddenly difficult for him to look into Al-Haitham’s eyes.
“Even hearing people’s wedding vows makes me choke up and cry a little bit for them. I once attended a wedding where they allegedly practiced their first dances together months prior. It was so sweet and charming. Plus, the outfits are absolutely gorgeous. Anyone with an artistic eye would be able to admire how marvelous wedding wear can be. Don’t you agree?”
Al-Haitham frowned.
Kaveh felt foolish for being vulnerable enough to expose his more romantic side.
“I think I should clarify, Kaveh,” Al-Haitham said, raising his brow. “What about you, Kaveh? I was asking about your thoughts of marriage in terms of your own future. I want to know if you would ever consider getting married yourself.”
“Me?” Kaveh nearly squeaked.
“Yes, who else in the room?” Al-Haitham continued to push.
Kaveh almost looked around the room, but he was not going to give in completely to the way Al-Haitham had him tied around his finger.
Well, considering that my mom remarried a few years ago and I spent that evening crying and drinking after receiving a pitiful invite, my recent opinions on marriage have grown colder. I try to remember how endearing it was to witness previous unions, but I can’t see that joy for myself. I don’t even know what love is. I’m scared of love. I’m scared of love because I always lose the people I choose to love. I think I doom people with my love.
I mean, just look at what loving you did to us right now.
“I don’t think I could ever get married,” Kaveh admitted, his voice hollow and solemn. “I just don’t picture it for myself.”
Al-Haitham remained silent, leaning away from Kaveh and placing an object back in his broken safe.
Al-Haitham held onto the ring box the entire conversation.
“I suppose my opinions on marriage have not changed,” Al-Haitham said, avoiding eye contact with Kaveh.
The room was tight and the air was stiff. All elements of a playful conversation vanished as soon as Al-Haitham’s back became turned towards Kaveh. Each footstep felt achingly loud as Kaveh remained standing still, watching Al-Haitham leave.
Kaveh took a deep breath and returned to cleaning the entire room, cleaning everything except for the jewelry box that laid on Al-Haitham’s desk.
After placing back the broom in its usual place, Kaveh went back to attempting his fourth draft.