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There are days when Kaveh realises it, but there are days when he's so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn't realise it's happening.
And it's always when he thinks about AlHaitham.
He never notices his vision activating, but pink petals seem to appear out of nowhere.
Kaveh, ever the hopeless romantic, can't stop thinking about AlHaitham. Soft pink petals that casually fall down around him, and he doesn't notice until one lands in his glass of wine.
Embarrassed, he does his best to dispel them, red-faced and waving his arms around.
It's something that happens a lot. He could be sketching out a design, but AlHaitham would pop into his head.
Maybe not the AlHaitham he knows now, but a dreamy image of AlHaitham who would bring him coffee in bed in the morning and who would gather him up in his arms to bring him to bed. Dreamy images of sleepy mornings where they cuddle together under a warm blanket; the hopeless romantic part of him conjuring up all sorts of sweet, tender moments he's sure would never happen in reality.
Petals turn into flowers, looking as if you'd plucked just the flower from its stem.
Dreams become more solidified, as if he could will them into existence, but he knows they're just dreams.
Flowers turn into petals again.
Thankfully, they're more elemental energy than a physical thing, so no one really has to clean them up. Kaveh had certainly tried.
Kaveh loves in such a grand way, with all his heart and no shield to protect it, and there have been a few times when it has come to bite him back.
Usually after loud bickering turns into fights, which turn into harsh words. There are no flowers; now, as he thinks of the other, there are no petals, either. Usually just tears and silence, both of them too proud to say anything, especially since Kaveh tends to go somewhere to hide, to help him deal with his emotions so he can close himself off again, building a wall around his heart that will crumble the moment AlHaitham is nice.
It feels like he never learns his lesson, but he can't help loving the scribe, even if he hurts him sometimes.
He knows AlHaitham isn't the kind of person to intentionally hurt people with his words, but it happens. But he knows there's nothing between them. Knows there never will be. Wilted flowers appear around him as he hides and shies himself away.
But he doesn't know how much panic AlHaitham feels when Kaveh doesn't come home after that. When he's not in the tavern, Cafe, or with Tighnari, who doesn't know where the blond is.
It's glaringly obvious to practically all of Sumeru at this point of how badly they need each other, how they balance each other out, and just how much the two smartest people are also the two biggest idiots.
Kaveh eventually comes out of hiding, like clockwork. But it takes a few more days for him to go back to his usual self.
The petals that fall whenever Kaveh daydreams about AlHaitham, dreaming of a life with him, are more muted in colour, betraying that this time, the emotional cut is deeper.
Kaveh's petals represent his hopes, his dreams, his very heart, and everything he holds dear. They represent the love he has for the scribe, but this time, they're muted and faded, and Kaveh shines a little less, his voice quieter.
One day, AlHaitham finds the petals scattered around the divian, where Kaveh had been sketching something in his large sketchbook.
As he touches one, he's suddenly overwhelmed, having to brace a hand against the piece of furniture as a sheer wave of emotions crashes into him. He knows they belong to Kaveh; he's seen them before.
But there's love—a sharp sting of pain with gnashing teeth tearing at his heart.
He dreams of sleepy mornings with someone, sharing a home with someone, and how he loves this person but knows they don't love him. How he's come to accept that it's one-sided, even as every tiny hint of genuine feelings or affection leaves him craving more and hopeful, only to have reality come crashing around him when they speak.
It's vague but overwhelming at the same time, as if it's his own dream. As if it's his own feelings he's having to work through.
It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth at the idea of Kaveh loving another—that the person of his own dreams and desires feels such things for another.
And then, just as soon as it happened, it was over.
The petal had faded into elemental energy again, returning to the earth, and AlHaitham is only left with vague feelings of happiness and sorrow, his head foggy as if he'd just woken from his own dream.
AlHaitham is like Kaveh in the sense that his vision feeds off of him.
But instead of petals, it's more like a pine tree shedding its needles. Small little thoughts, images, and desires. More logic and less emotion.
The desire to protect, to keep the one he holds dear to himself close, to ensure their happiness. And a twinge of something.
It's not as if AlHaitham is devoid of emotions; it's just that his reactions and answers are not completely based on his emotions. He's not cold hearted, either; it's just that sometimes the logical outcome outweighs the emotional reaction.
That's not to say he doesn't have them.
He has his moments where his emotions get the best of him, where he's pushed and prodded and he lashes out, guilt immediately following if it's his personal sunlight. He sees the way Kaveh's eyes dim and the way they hurt, but he can't find any words to say to help. Especially when he knows he's the one who put them there.
There was another time when Kaveh had fallen asleep on that same divian, with flowers instead of petals this time, a soft pink and tender reds, and he reached out for the flower, inhaling sharply at the rush of emotions.
He doesn't notice Kaveh's vision faintly glowing green while he's asleep, while he's drowning in his emotions, and how AlHaitham is now drowning in them.
In soft visions of a vague figure calling out Kaveh's name softly.
Of the way Kaveh artistically describes this person.
Hair that resembles strands of moonlight on a clear sky when it's warm enough to sit outside and gaze upon it.
Eyes the colour of crystal blue waters and the golden sand underneath it.
A voice, a body, so sturdy. Like a tree, like a pine tree. Of how strong and dependable they were, protecting anything under them from the harsh elements as they gave them the nutrients needed to grow and to stretch alongside the tree as they shared their own nutrients with the tree, a beneficial arrangement.
How these trees are desired by many but are only meant for one, or for a family.
And then, just like the petals back then, it faded away into elemental energy.
It confused him—a conundrum he couldn't solve. Who was this person, this pine tree?
Who was it that was doing these things to his personified sunshine?
Unable to realise that it was him. It was AlHaitham, and it always had been. AlHaitham pours over every memory, every single interaction he'd had with anyone, but coming up blank.
AlHaitham had been so lost in his own thoughts for days on end that he'd let himself slip, not really locked up, but found himself with a short fuse, snapping at those he knew didn't deserve it, sighing and apologising, dry, brittle needles surrounding his chair where he sat.
With a sigh, he excused himself to go home, knowing he wasn't of any use, not that he normally wanted to be there in the first place since he hadn't been keen on the position anyway.
He came home to Kaveh with papers strewn about everywhere and petals floating all around the room. And he snapped. Especially when he saw Kaveh drawing this person who held his affections, feeling his chest tighten as nasty words spilled out, rendering the normally talkative blonde quiet.
AlHaitham stalked to his room, the door slamming behind him.
A bitter, sour taste clung to his lips and to his tongue, and when he went out to get water, there were no more drawings, papers crumbled into the trash, and a quiet home.
He didn't think twice about it, getting water and relishing the way it helped wash the taste away.
But he felt his eyes drawn to the crumpled mess of paper in the bin, the taste returning even more as he smoothed the papers out on the table.
A sketch of a home on one. A sketch of.... himself? Another one had the two of them among flowers and... pine trees.
Oh. He was a fool.
This entire time, he'd been convinced that it had been someone else, but it had been him all along.
How could he have been so cruel to the blond? Almost gagging on the bitter and sour taste, like rotten fruit clogging his throat, he moved to knock on Kaveh's door.
Silence.
He called Kaveh's name, but there was no answer. The sun was starting to set now, so maybe he was engrossed in work, or maybe he was at the tavern.
Another knock and another call of his name returned with silence before he simply opened the door.
It wasn't as if the room was devoid of Kaveh's belongings; they still remained, but the most important things to him, along with clothes, were missing, and the bed was neatly made as if it hadn't been used.
He wouldn't just leave like that, right? Wouldn't just move out, right?
He felt like wilting, felt like a plant that had been neglected. That must have been what he made Kaveh feel like.
All those feelings—the dreamy sense, the mystery man—were all about him, about AlHaitham, and he screwed up.
Hopeless, he visited Kaveh's usual haunts.
But nothing. No one saw him.
Not Nilou.
Not Tighnari.
Not even Cyno.
Not a single soul knew where the other was, but there was clear disappointment on their faces. They may not know where Kaveh was, but they could tell something happened between them that drove him off.
AlHaitham stayed at their shared home, the one he'd opened up to Kaveh. There was guilt there, feeling as if he'd driven the blonde away permanently, just like back in the Akademiya; it's just that this time, there were far more complicated emotions at hand. Dry and brittle needles followed him, haunted him, and made him yearn for the blonde. He knew Kaveh, knew how selfless the man was, and knew how he'd be willing to give the clothes off his very person to those who he felt needed it more.
And then there was AlHaitham.
Selfish, crude, and far too lost in logic to let his emotions lead. Kaveh had, on more than one occasion, quipped and complained about how heartless he was and how it would kill him to have a little more emotion sometimes.
And he was realising that Kaveh had been right all along.
AlHaitham may not have been the proverbial bleeding heart that Kaveh was, but he wasn't an emotionless shell either. Or at least he hadn't considered himself to be that way until now.
Now he felt despondent, a touch cowardly, and an entire grouping of other emotions.
His grandmother would have been sincerely disappointed in him if she were alive today. She knew he had always been aloof and blunt, and it often resulted in not making friends.
But once again, Kaveh had proven himself different, had broken past those walls, and befriended him.
Looking at the needles that seemed to linger longer and decorate the house, it seemed he'd been wrong about his own feelings from the very moment he'd met his shining star.
Oh, how he wanted to gather him up in his arms and tell him that it's okay and that he doesn't have to hold back.
It took another two days before the other male returned back to their shared home, hesitation clear in his actions, and the petals, the flowers—oh, they were wilted and brown at the edges; they were dying.
They brightened for a moment when they locked eyes before Kaveh looked away. Before he would lock himself in his room once again.
AlHaitham knew Kaveh; he knew the blond would easily blame himself, would torture himself, and mentally berate himself for letting himself slip into a sense of comfort and letting himself get too comfortable. Kaveh was just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for AlHaitham to have some remark about something that Kaveh did, and, eventually, it would end.
It would be Kaveh leaving, probably going back to the seat in the tavern AlHaitham had met him at so many years ago.
But AlHaitham couldn't let this stand; he wanted, no, needed, to make things right with Kaveh, to make his own feelings known, but he had no idea how to do that.
Despite his extensive knowledge of languages, the language of love was one he knew nothing about. But for Kaveh, he was willing to learn. No, he needed to learn. Kaveh had been through so much and was so fragile yet so strong. He'd never had a chance to truly feel anything in so long.
It was why AlHaitham did what he did, so Kaveh would stop feeling guilty.
But now it was AlHaitham's turn to feel that guilt, especially when Kaveh didn't say anything and averted his gaze, so he only had to look at the floor before going to his room with the door closing behind him with a soft click.
It broke him a little to see him like this.
"Kaveh," AlHaitham said as he approached the door, softly knocking on its cold surface.
"Haitham, don't. Please." It was a broken reply, Kaveh's heart having betrayed him again, his mind convincing him that this is what he got. This wasn't his home; it belonged to AlHaitham.
AlHaitham hesitated, wondering if giving Kaveh some space was the right thing. Of course it wasn't, but the blonde had been missing.
For almost a week AlHaitham had paced around their home, around Sumeru, without finding a single trace of Kaveh. It was agony. But now Kaveh was back, and it felt even worse than when he was gone.
"Kaveh," AlHaitham started to speak again, hand on the doorknob, hesitation still coursing through him, making it feel as if he was going to make things worse than they already were.
"Go away," Kaveh mumbled. "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to talk about it." AlHaitham couldn't see Kaveh, but he could hear the pain, the tears, the sorrow, the guilt—everything—just from the other's voice alone.
It made AlHaitham's heart ache so deeply for him. "Kaveh, I-" another bought of hesitation. AlHaitham had never been so unsure in his life; all his choices were thoroughly calculated to find the most optimal path that would lead to the desired outcome. But there was nothing there when he was navigating his and Kaveh's emotions.
"I'm coming in." AlHaitham ignored any other protest the blonde could swing his way as he silently stepped into the room.
It was dark; not a single lamp was lit in the room, but he could make out Kaveh's silhouette in the darkness, legs drawn up, face buried into his knees.
"Kaveh, I'm sorry, I-"
"Stop." Kaveh whimpered, but AlHaitham continued.
"I'm sorry for how I acted; you don't deserve that."
"I do, though. I don't deserve this kindness. I'd rather you just treat me the way you normally do."
"Why?"
"Why?" Kaveh echoed with a hollow chuckle. "Because it's what I deserve. I don't need you to feel sorry for me just because you had a bad day."
"Kaveh, that's not—"
"Just... just stop. I don't need your apologies; I don't need your pity." And a wrecked sob came from the figure.
"Who said it was pity?"
Kaveh scoffed, hugging his knees tighter. "Why else would you come to me when I'm like this?" The petals fell around him, wilting and dim, as if they'd been plucked and left to rot.
Pine needles, if they weren't made of pure elemental energy, would have crunched underfoot as he approached Kaveh, the blonde flinching slightly as AlHaitham reached out for him. "Who are you to decide this? Who are you to decide that my own feelings don't matter?" Yellowed, dry needles and wilting, brown-tipped petals mingled together before they slowly faded from existence.
"Because.... Because I don't deserve kindness or happiness. Because of all the things I've done."
"Well, what is it that you've done that makes you think that?"
"You know why," Kaveh started.
"This isn't about things that happened that were out of your control, the way you followed your passion, or anything like that. What did you do? What have you done for you to believe that you don't deserve to be treated with kindness and to be able to be happy?"
AlHaitham's question made his head snap up, red meeting teal in the darkness. Kaveh felt his breath catch when he noticed how close the other was and how he could reach out and claim the other's hand in his.
Guilt had wracked his mind for so long that he didn't have an answer.
"You haven't done anything, past or present, to not deserve kindness or happiness." AlHaitham murmured as he took a fallen, wilted petal into his hand, his heart aching at the emotions that blew through him and buffeted him as if it were trying to knock him down and keep him down. A deep breath, and the petal vanished just as easily as it had come to life. There was so much pain, grief, trauma, and so much guilt. There were so many feelings of not being good enough, of not deserving life's simple pleasures.
Of not deserving love again.
AlHaitham would admit that their fallout was something they both held fault in, trying to force two sides of a magnet to connect despite the fact that they obviously repelled each other.
But much like the blonde, AlHaitham was stubborn, if not determined.
He would do whatever he could to make Kaveh smile again, to fill his heart with joy and love, and to be there for him whenever he needed.
Once again, he reached out for the other, intent more clear in his mind this time, ignoring when the blonde flinched away again.
"I saw the sketches you did after you left." After you left me.
Kaveh's cheeks flushed a little this time. "So what? It doesn't mean anything." The petals that had turned bright pink in a blink of an eye were now wilted once again.
"It does. To me."
"Why? It doesn't mean anything."
"I don't believe that."
"What do you want from me, AlHaitham?"
"I want—" He paused for a moment. He wanted Kaveh to smile, to laugh, and to... hold. He wanted to see Kaveh's face when he was happy or excited about something—anything but this. "I want you to be happy. I know you can't let go of what happened; I don't expect you to, but I—" AlHaitham scrubbed a hand over his face. He was a Haravatat scholar, so why was speaking to Kaveh about what he wanted suddenly so hard?
"I want to make you happy. To be the reason why you smile and the reason why you laugh. I want you to stop thinking of this as just a house, but think of it as your home." Pine needles scattered around them, bright green as if they sprouted from a sapling. "And I—I will admit that I may not make you feel as happy as whomever it is you've been thinking of, but I want to be that person." AlHaitham scowled, kicking at the needles as they seemed to fly about him in an explosion, now more of an annoyance than anything else at that moment.
There was a slight silence between them, slightly uncomfortable, before AlHaitham sighed and stood to leave the room, only stopping when there was a gentle tug on his belt.
He turned to see Kaveh, bright flowers exploding around him as he looked away, cheeks flushed. "And here I thought Haravatat scholars were smart," the blonde mumbled, not releasing AlHaitham from his hold no matter how easily the scribe could break from it.
"Kaveh—"
"Shut up, stupid Hayi."
AlHaitham felt his teeth clack against each other at the look on Kaveh's face. More flowers bloomed and fell onto the bed, AlHaitham stretching a hand out to touch one, his knees suddenly weak from the emotions.
Embarrassment. Love. Affection. They drowned out the guilt, the sadness, and the sheer melancholy that had surrounded the blonde earlier.
Kaveh glared up at AlHaitham, tears staining those beautiful red eyes of his, threatening to spill over at any moment. "Were you jealous?"
AlHaitham faced Kaveh, looking at him before looking away, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. But he's nothing if not honest. "Yes."
"Why?"
AlHaitham drags a hand through his hair on a long exhale. "Because you were always dreaming and looked so smitten with this faceless man. I... didn't understand why. I would never intrude in your relationship, of course."
The flowers were most likely for someone who resembled AlHaitham, even if part of him had thought they were about him, and he felt a pang in his chest at that.
"You're a Haravatat scholar. I can't believe you're being so dumb." Kaveh's cheeks were aflame with a vivid blush, and his gaze was intense as he focused on the other. They sat in silence, Kaveh letting go of AlHaitham as he withdrew slightly. "Nevermind, just... forget it. Forget I said anything." And the petals and flowers wilted once more, as if death itself had caressed them.
"Kaveh, I won't know what's going on until you tell me."
Tears spilled from those ruby eyes; frustration, hurt, confusion—everything swirled about the two of them in a cacophony as petals and flowers fell upon him, conveying the emotional turmoil the blonde was in.
"It's you. It's always been you. Ever since I laid my eyes on your stupid fucking face."
Well. AlHaitham felt like a fool now. Being jealous of himself, jealous that this faceless figure of feelings and emotions was him all along. It was laughable!
His face must have relayed what he was feeling to Kaveh, because Kaveh spoke again, his voice soft. "Go ahead and laugh at me; do what you want."
The flowers started to wilt again; Kaveh's overthinking getting the better of him again.
"What is there to laugh about?"
"That I've been in love with you since we met in the Akademiya."
"But why would I laugh at that?"
"Because I'm an idiot who fell in love with someone who doesn't love them back? Because I'm an utter fool, a failure. Do I need to list all the reasons?"
AlHaitham stayed quiet, waiting for Kaveh to continue and watching those tears fall. "I agree that you're a fool sometimes, especially right now."
Kaveh curled in on himself a bit more, his heart aching. Here he'd gone and confessed his deepest secret to AlHaitham, knowing the other couldn't possibly love someone like him. He didn't deserve love.
"Kaveh, look at me." Kaveh didn't budge, eyes averted, still. "Please."
Kaveh looked up, surprise clear on his face. AlHaitham never said please. He never said anything like that. He was even more shocked when a gentle hand came and cupped his cheek. Kaveh didn't know how to respond or what to say; his mouth was suddenly dry and his mind blank. It was such a sincere, simple word, and it was so unusual to come from AlHaitham.
"Like I said, I found myself becoming jealous of this faceless man who you'd daydream about. Without noticing that I was getting jealous of myself. I let my own emotions get the better of me if me and I hurt you in a way I don't think I'll ever be able to fix."
Kaveh gulped down a mouthful of oxygen, feeling like he couldn't breathe and unable to tell if this situation was a dream or a nightmare. "What–" Kaveh's voice shook, his throat dry as he swallowed. "What reason could you have to be jealous when I know you don't like me, when you're just waiting for me to pay you back all the mora you've spent on me, waiting for me to pay back all the rent I missed?"
A frustrated sigh left AlHaitham's lips, and he found himself rubbing at his temple. "If that was my intent, why would I let you stay here? Why would I just not kick you out myself when you run a tab at Lambad's or fail to have enough mora to pay rent?"
"Pity, I guess?" Kaveh mumbled, burying his face back into his knees. "Why else would someone help someone like me, someone who doesn't have a single mora to their name and is only a step above a beggar on the street? If not pity, then what?"
Another frustrated sigh left AlHaitham. "You're being frustratingly obtuse right now."
"God, what do you even want from me?" Flowers sprouted only to quickly wilt and disappear again and again while dark, deep, green pine needles fell from AlHaitham.
"You."
Kaveh's head snapped up at those eyes boring into AlHaitham's face. "What?"
"You. I want you, Kaveh. I'm not sure how much more clear I can make that." And with that, AlHaitham grabbed Kaveh's arm, hauled him up so he crashed against him, bodies pressed together, and kissed him.
Kaveh's eyes widened in surprise as bright green pine needles coupled with bright pink flowers and petals showered over them as Kaveh wrapped his arms around AlHaitham's neck, his eyes closing as he sank into the feeling of being devoured, a small whimper escaping his throat. AlHaitham swept his tongue across the seam of Kaveh's lips, the blonde eagerly opening for AlHaitham to sweep his tongue inside, his hands wrapped around the slim waist to keep him there, to hold him, and to memorize the feeling of having Kaveh there.
When they parted, Kaveh was out of breath, and the scent of flowers and pine mingled together in a heady but pleasing blend. "Do you understand now, Kaveh?"
Kaveh swallowed, feeling like he was drowning in those intense teal eyes. "I think," Kaveh whispered softly, "you need to explain it to me again." And then AlHaitham's lips were on his own again, Kaveh's heart threatening to give out as he poured everything into the kiss, hands tangling in silver locks as AlHaitham made sure Kaveh couldn't escape his grasp.
Once again, they pulled away from each other, just enough for their foreheads to touch. A hand came up to cup Kaveh's cheek, and he leaned into it, his own hand coming up to make sure it didn't slip away. "I was jealous of this faceless man because I'm in love with you."
The confession was soft, if not tinged with a little embarrassment. "The thought of you dreaming of someone else when I've been right here, waiting... I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm sorry."
Kaveh sighed, his eyes glimmering in the low light. "For how long?"
"I don't think I could ever hope to pinpoint a date on when it first started, when a small boyish crush on his senior blossomed into love. But when I learned of what happened, I couldn't ever let myself stand by and allow you to suffer."
The words made Kaveh's knees feel like they didn't exist. How long had he wanted to hear that? How long had he waited for a moment like this? He felt foolish since he had exactly what he wanted and who he loved right under his nose all this time.
It was like a field of flowers, and a forest of pine trees blossomed underneath them as AlHaitham kissed each carmine eye. Kaveh was surprised to feel the mist of tears on his lashes. "I guess we're both fools then. Idiots who couldn't see what was right in front of them."
AlHaitham wrapped his arms more firmly around Kaveh, nuzzling into his sunshine locks. "I suppose we are."
"All this time I thought you hated me and how you couldn't wait to get me out, but look how wrong I was."
"Then stay. Stay with me in our home."
"Yeah, I will. I don't want to ever leave. I love you, AlHaitham. So much."
AlHaitham shifted, tilting Kaveh's chin up so he could steal another kiss from the other—no rush, no frustration, just adoration.
"But that doesn't mean you get to buy the ugliest pieces of furniture anymore."
AlHaitham chuckled at that. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Flowers and pine needles danced in the air before slowly fading. A fitting start to a fitting end. Together.
Together until they, themselves, faded from existence.