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the room echoes with the remnants of their voices, words intertwined with frustration and anger and red stained petals.
"i can't believe you don't understand how important this project is to me." kaveh shouted, voice shaking. "i've been working day and night, sacrificing everything for it!"
"that's exactly my point, kaveh. you shut everyone out, don't talk except for when its like this. do buildings really mean more than people to you, now?" al haitham's thoughts raced.
("you don't eat, you don't sleep, and im scared," he wants to say. but he doesn't.)
voices clash, each word cutting deeper into the fractured walls; a house falling down. moss crawling up its crumbling sides.
kaveh glances back and forth, his hands clenched into fists, eyes blinking to try to rid himself of tears threatening to fall like petals of a dandelion pulled by a child's hands.
"you don't even- you don't try to understand! you don't care about me, you care about your fucking schedules!"
"you know that isn't true." al haitham's breath came out shaky, trying to mask the static pooling in his stomach with a straight face.
standing on a breaking point, kaveh's voice shook with the weight of his emotions. he looked broken and al haitham thought that just maybe he was filled with words he never said, too.
"do i? because you don't act like you care. i deserve someone to care about me like im a person and not a burden!"
is that what kaveh thinks of him? beautiful, ethereal kaveh? he doesn't know how wrong he is.
(but al haitham would never say that, even on a good day)
"fine. maybe you should go find that person then, kaveh."
a heavy silence settles in the room as their words hang in the air, the impact sinking in. al haitham slowly exhaled, regret already pressing at his stomach like a disease. like stems had bloomed into his chest, around his ribs, and tugged.
kaveh breaks eye contact first, his voice barely above a whisper.
"if thats what you want."
al haitham's mouth opens, struggling to find the right words. he had never been good with dealing with his emotions, let alone speak them. petals fill his throat and suddenly, he can't talk. his heart screams for him to say something, say anything.
kaveh's footsteps echo through the room as he walks towards the door glancing back once, twice, and- the door closes with a heavy thud, sealing their fate, as the once harmonious room now stands as a silent witness to the fractures in their souls.
he waits two hours for kaveh to come back. the whole time is spent glancing at the door, then the clock, then out the window. he busies himself with mundane tasks; busywork and tried to prevent his mind from thinking too much. he overwaters the plants; lost in thoughts of the blonde. his heart aches a little more when he thinks about how kaveh would berate him over it.
("youve got a dendro vision and cant even take care of plants!")
he cant wait any longer. the numbers on the clock all look the same now, and the sun is beginning to set.
he heads towards the door, reaching for its handle; gentler than kaveh had, he reminds himself. shuts it behind him and grabs his keys. a jingle, and a thud.
al haitham crouched down to pick his key up, and caught site of a forgotten little lion charm. kaveh's.
it feels sickeningly familiar to pocket said key, lock the door, and leave. al haitham felt filled with emotions he didn't want to (couldn't) name.
(part of him wondered if the key was really forgotten at all.)
normally, al haitham would have left his anxieties at home. normally, al haitham wouldn't be anxious at all. but losing kaveh wasn't normal, not the same as other times.
he knew kaveh would come back.
(he always did.)
but something in kaveh's eyes, the way he spoke, reminds him too much of his school years and he wont take that chance.
(cant take that chance.)
as the door to the bar swings open, a rush of warm air and lively chatter greets al haitham. the dim lighting casts a cozy ambiance, enveloping him in the bar's atmosphere.
his eyes scan the room, and though logically he knows kaveh isn't stupid enough to go here to be alone, his heart holds up a little sprout of hope.
he spots tighnari and cyno, sitting at a table near the back. al haitham approaches them, stomach tight in worry; face still stoic.
"have you seen kaveh?" he asks, cringing at the sound of his voice; exhausted from yelling, and cracked from stress.
cyno looks up, raising an eyebrow in surprise at al haitham's presence.
he sees tighnari scan his face, and breathe out a sigh of air.
"what happened?"
he knew. because of course he could tell. he's tighnari, thats what he does.
al haitham takes a seat, grabbing a half full cup of what he assumes (hopes) is alcohol. he's right, and he can tell with the way it stung when he downs it in one fluent movement. cyno looks at the empty cup, back at al haitham, back at the cup, at al haitham, at tighnari. his cheeks are flushed, and the way tighnari is holding him speaks to how much he had drunk already. they'd been there for a while, then, and that means if kaveh came here, they would know.
"'nari he took my drink," cyno tried to whisper, but it came just a bit more strained than normal.
tighnari smiled softly down at him.
"i know, love." he responded, running his hands through the other's hair.
it hurt to watch.
(it really, really hurt to watch.)
he shoves that thought down his throat and maybe, a little, hopes he chokes on it and die; anything to spare him from repeating the words he regrets.
but nothing happens, and so he tells them.
as he tells them (with worry knotting deeper and deeper into his stomach) it hits him more just how much he messed up. what if kaveh didn't come back? what if he left, for good? al haitham has been down this path once before, and the scenery just got darker and darker as he walked it.
tighnari must have sensed his inner turmoil (senses just as sharp as his ears, al haitham thinks) and interrupts.
"al haitham," he starts, the familiar parental tone he often took on once again appearing. its soothing, in a way.
"he hasn't been here. go look for him. you know him better than anyone else, you can find him."
al haitham let out deep breath, listening to the calm, guiding words of the other.
"just, don't let him go. okay?"
he nodded, gray hair falling in-front of his eyes. he needed a haircut. kaveh would offer to do it, he thought, the blondes voice chirping in his mind.
("i don't trust you with scissors near my head, kaveh" he had said.
kaveh clicked his tongue, hand on his hip and wry smile on his lips.
"c'mon! i've always cut my own hair, and look at me!" he swung his body into a pose, hiding a laugh.
"yea, thats what im afraid of," al haitham sighed, faking an air of worry.
"hey! rude!" a hand lightly slapped him in the arm.)
he swallowed thickly, a heaviness in his chest weighing him to the seat. he forces himself up, before leaving behind the comfort of the bar and stepping out into the evening air. he can’t think of anything but kaveh as he looks around, trying to somehow sense where the blonde had went. he decides to stroll throughout the city aimlessly, something he himself rarely did: but a thing he knew kaveh to be fond of. he just hoped that was the case, now.
kaveh tended to drift, he always did. like petals carried by a gentle breeze, he never stayed in one place for long. he says that it’s to keep things new, exciting. al haitham knows better. he knows kaveh is scared, can see it in his eyes when things are dormant for too long. it was as if he was expecting something to come between him and his life, and if it didn't, he’d do it himself.
he likes the comfort of one place. a house you know will be there waiting for you to come home, everything steady and stable. adding kaveh to the mixture was something al haitham had never considered. the first few days, it was hard to adjust. theres something so odd about kaveh staying in his quiet house, one he’d lived in for years. he could feel the ghosts of his former self within the walls, and kaveh didn’t know any of them. not like al haitham does.
he supposes there may be a sort of solace found in leaving the past, like footprints, behind.
but the lonesomeness that surrounds an untethered heart is almost too heavy to bear. how melancholy is it? to be captive in a world devoid of dreams?
(al haitham is terribly scared that kaveh knows the answer.)
as he walked the streets of sumeru, he listens to the noises of the city. a cart being wheeled, a door closing. the hum of a light and the buzz of bugs.
a soft voice caught his attention. it seemed as though they were talking to themselves, listing things off like a list. at first, he figured it was simply a small store owner, taking stock a bit late, but as he moved closer, the voice became increasingly familiar. a tuft of pink hair stuck up from behind a pile of wood planks, bright eyes peeking out soon after.
dori knew everything about everyone, and if she didn't, she would know who did . al haitham was begrudgingly impressed at this, and, a small bit frightened at the prospect of a 15 year old knowing his secrets.
“al haitham,” dori trilled, grinning with a glint in her eye. “what might you be doing, wandering around at night? looking for something?”
al haitham sighed, crossing his arms. “yes, i am. someone, actually.”
dori lifted an eyebrow, swinging around to stand in front of al haitham. the height difference was awkward, but dori didn’t seem to mind. al haitham supposed she met with all sorts of people, after all. she motioned with her hands for al haitham to continue, looking intrigued.
“it’s kaveh,” he started. no going back now. “have you seen him?”
dori gave a thoughtful hum, hands on her hips.
“have i?” she playfully questioned, eyeing al haitham's pockets. of course. this was ‘lord sangemah bay ,’ after all.
“..really?” he sighed.
dori shrugged. “hey, blame the deal, not the dealer.”
“...what?” wasn’t dori supposed to be notoriously smart?
al haitham searches his pockets and comes up empty. he didn’t bother bringing his coin pouch with him. dori impatiently waited, looking at al haitham with expectant eyes.
“i don't have anything on me. just, do me a favor?” he asked, smiling hesitantly.
“i don’t normally do favors,” she mumbled. “you owe me, ‘kay?” al haitham nodded, and dori continued after a pause.
“i saw him going towards the pier,” she pointed. “overlooking yazadaha pool.”
“thank you,” al haitham nodded, before turning around swiftly and walking towards the pier the fastest way he knew.
the sun was setting now, a soft light blanketing the streets of sumeru. the street vendors had gone, leaving the usual bustling area eerily quiet. in an ideal world, al haitham could stop to admire the view. in an ideal world, kaveh would be with him.
after al haitham’s grandmother died, he filled the silence with the noises of the city. her humming was now quiet whispering among students. her cooking was carts being pulled across stone paths. her stories and sweet voice transformed into the sound of families exploring the city. al haitham longed for silence, and hated it all the same. he found himself out and about more often than he was in his new home. this home didn’t feel like home.
but when kaveh moved in, al haitham found himself at peace with the sounds. kaveh would talk to himself, while working. he would hum while painting, and tell al haitham about his next plans as he cooked. it was terribly bittersweet, to fall in love with kaveh’s voice. it made the house warm and inviting, each corner filled with memories whether they be good or bad, all of it made al haitham’s heart heavy with sentiment.
(did al haitham need kaveh there, more than kaveh himself?)
he hopes kaveh feels the same.
as al haitham arrived at the pier, the sun had set completely. the street lights had turned on, now.
the soft light fell over kaveh’s silhouette.
at the sight of the blonde, he suddenly felt anxiety pool in his stomach. he hadn’t thought of what to say. what to do. he clenches his jaw, and continues to walk towards kaveh.
he didn’t know if kaveh was aware of his presence. if he was, he wasn’t showing it. beside him sat a bottle, al haitham thinks its wine. al haitham hated wine. kaveh loved it. his heart ached at the passing thought.
kaveh was sitting on a dock, legs swung over the side, feet just over the clear water. his hair was down, a rare sight to see outside of the house.
al haitham stood, for a moment, a few feet from kaveh. slowly, he came closer and lowered himself down to sit beside him.
“‘haitham,” kaveh mumbled, eyes teary and red rimmed. guilt crawled up his throat like a vine.
“yeah,” he said, voice taking on a soft tone. the one reserved for kaveh. “i'm here.”
kaveh sniffled, a pitiful sound, before closing the distance to lay his head on al haitham’s shoulder. he had always been clingy. al haitham didn't mind. he brings his other hand up to brush kaveh’s hair out of his face. theres a rose petal in his hair. al haitham plucks it out, rubbing it between his fingers before releasing it into the water. they sit like that, for a while. just watching the moons reflection on the lake. the stars. al haitham’s mind calms for the first time, this day.
kaveh plays with his fingers. he curls them around his own, before lifting the bottle and taking a sip. al haitham knows better than to stop him. he silently takes the bottle and takes a sip himself, grimacing at the taste.
“yeah, still horrible,” he murmurs, eliciting a small smile from kaveh. he counts this as a win. more silence follows, but the presence of one another is enough comfort for the both of them. al haitham softly tells kaveh about dori, and seeing the others smile makes his heart melt.
( hes so, so in love. )
after a few minutes of silence, kaveh speaks. his voice is scratchy, a mixture of crying, neglect, and alcohol.
“‘haitham,” he whispers, drawing a hum of question from the other, “i wanna go home.”
his voice is shaky, cheeks flushed rose red and his bottom lip begins to wobble, again.
“ok, love.” he responds in the same soft tone as earlier. kaveh begins to cry, quietly. al haitham stands, coaxing kaveh up with him. kaveh grabs the bottle of wine, and hangs onto al haitham’s arm as they begin to walk. home.
they get there, eventually, after a few stumbles and slurred, “no, no i can do it myself”s from kaveh. al haitham unlocks the door after a few tries, arms full with the blonde. they walk in, and the familiar scent is immediately comforting. he leads kaveh to his bed, the other just barely still awake, eyelids drooping.
he lays him down, slipping his shoes and socks off. he dresses kaveh in his own clothes, knowing he would complain about his many layers being wrinkled if al haitham allowed him to fall asleep in them. he crouches down, and wipes a tear off kaveh’s face, planting a kiss on his soft cheek.
he allows himself this moment to take a deep breath, smile softly at kaveh, who was no longer crying. he opens his eyes, slightly.
“‘haitham? don't go,” he says. al haitham smiles back at him.
“go to sleep, okay? ill be there soon.”
kaveh’s eyes shine with a sense of childlike innocence that tugs at al haithams heart.
“‘kay,” kaveh whimpers, laying his head back down. “i love you.” its whispered in such a saccharine voice al haitham could cry.
“i love you too, kaveh.”
(i couldn’t stop even if i tried, kaveh)