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“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?”
The question should be a shock. It was asked so softly, a mere whisper in the stillness of the room. Kaveh half expects Alhaitham to yell or scold him for it, but he only sighs. It is tired, worn even, but Kaveh can’t force himself to regret the question. It plagues him.
“I believe most people have, at some point or another.”
“I suppose so.”
Alhaitham was reading on the divan, Kaveh sitting across from him while sketching. It was entirely too domestic for this conversation, but it continued anyway. This wasn’t a new occurrence, but it was not any easier. Alhaitham put down his book, waiting.
Waiting for the pencil to stop moving, waiting for the paper to be put away, waiting for glasses to be set on the table. Kaveh always said he hated crying with glasses on.
In another minute, Alhaitham had joined Kaveh’s side of the room, sitting so close their thighs were touching. He was tempted to wrap his arms around the other, but it wasn’t time yet. Not until it was asked of him.
“I don't wanna die.”
“I know.”
“I just want to be okay.”
“I know.”
“I'm tired, Haitham. So tired.”
“I know, my love, I know.”
Kaveh's lip wobbled, but no tears had escaped yet. He still had more to say, otherwise he would have begun to sob already. Resting his head on Alhaitham's shoulder, he opened his mouth to speak. Once. Twice.
“Would you ever forgive me if I died?”
The way in which he died wasn’t said, but understood nonetheless. Alhaitham let out another deep sigh, letting a hand rest on Kaveh’s waist to pull him closer. He buried his face in blonde hair before responding.
“I would have to. How could I be angry at your peace?”
“It would be terribly selfish of me.”
“I don't think so.”
“You’re lying. it would be cruel to die and make you find my body cold in my bedroom.”
“It would be painful, yes, but I wouldn’t think you’re selfish for it. I would not resent you.”
Kaveh finally let the tears spill out, hands moving to cover his face. Alhaitham hugged him then, letting him hide his face in his chest. His shirt was wet within moments, but he didn’t mind.
“I want to die,” He hiccupped, clinging to Alhaitham’s shirt so tight he feared he may rip it, “I just want to rest. I can't wake up tomorrow. I'm too tired.”
Alhaitham's chest ached with every word, his grip on the blonde tightening. He hated to know how miserable Kaveh was, but he’d rather sit through his episode than find his corpse the next morning. He would rather hear his thoughts than read them in a letter left behind.
Kaveh cries for hours, mumbling about how much he craves his endless sleep. How he has notes written. How he knows exactly where the pills he will use are. Alhaitham has no choice but to let him.
In the end, when his tears have dried and his mind has stilled, he looks up at Alhaitham. His teal eyes are so soft and sad, it makes guilt flood his chest. It must hurt to hear his lover say he wants to die. Kaveh wasn’t sure he’d be strong enough to hear Alhaitham say such things.
“I'm sorry,” he whispers, “I'm sorry I'm like this.”
“It's okay.”
“It isn’t. I know it isn’t.”
“You can’t help it.”
“I should at least try to get better.”
“You are. I know you are.”
Kaveh sighs shakily, taking Alhaitham’s hands and playing with his fingers. He presses a gentle kiss to his palm, as if to apologize, following with a kiss to the tip of each finger. It’s so achingly tender, Alhaitham feels his throat tighten.
They sit there in silence and candlelight, the sun having set long ago. Kaveh stands, pulling Alhaitham up with him.
“I'm sleepy.”
“Let's go to bed, then.”
Alhaitham tugs him along, walking him through their nightly routine. It was the same as always, ever unchanging. Kaveh loves the stability of it, but hates the repetitiveness. What a miserable state to be in, isn’t it? That something he needs is killing him slowly? If the pattern breaks he will be shattered, but if it remains he will still meet the same fate. He simply cannot win.
Lost in thought, he hardly notices when he’s guided onto the bed.
He’s being held close, kisses pressed to his cheeks and forehead before finishing on the tip of his nose. Warm hands are under his shirt, rubbing circles directly into his skin. The touch is nothing more than soothing, keeping him grounded as he stares into Alhaitham’s eyes. They’re so lovely, especially when crinkling in affection. There’s a certain shine to them, and Kaveh cannot help but wonder if it would dim if he died.
“You’re thinking too much. What is going on in that head of yours?”
“Many things. And yours?”
“Nothing other than your beauty.”
Kaveh felt his cheeks flush red, looking away as Alhaitham smirked. How dare he look so pleased with himself? Despite his teasing tone, Kaveh knew he was sincere, as the other man never lied. He never forced himself to do anything that did not benefit himself. Yet, he had spent his evening soothing Kaveh, whispering soft reassurances and holding him close. Surely, he had better things to do, but he would pause everything for Kaveh. If he asked the Earth to stop spinning, Alhaitham would make it happen.
He smiles in the low light, kissing the bridge of Alhaitham’s nose. In these moments he remembers he’s loved. Cherished beyond what he deserves.
Despite this, his earlier thoughts still consume him, nagging at the back of his mind. He was still tired, so tired. If only Alhaitham could truly stop time, allow him a second to breathe, maybe he wouldn’t feel so exhausted. Beyond the ache in his body, was the ache in his soul. Would it ever cease? Or was death his only escape?
In the quiet, Kaveh could not help but speak once more.
“Would you miss me?” he asked hoarsely, stumbling over his words, “If I died, that is? Would you mourn me?”
“Every moment of every day, for the rest of my life.”
A pause.
“Then I suppose I will have to wake up tomorrow.”
Kaveh kisses him then, long and slow. There's an air of desperation in it, but drowned out by the passion and adoration they share. He loves this. He loves Alhaitham. If for nothing else, he lives to spend his time in the arms of his lover.
And that is enough.