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The light of Kshahrewar was the brightest of all.
So bright, so beautiful, that he illuminated everyone with his candor and kindness.
But the Light of Kshahrewar suffered, suffered in silence, with his beautiful smile as a cover for his real self. A self so grim and wounded that many wouldn't believe he was the same person.
Only a graduate of Haravatat was the only one who knew the darkness in that light, and contained it. As often as necessary, he tried to keep the real darkness of the golden-haired boy from killing him.
How many times had he asked him why he was by his side? That there were many, many boys a thousand times better than a "pathetic attempt at an architect who had nowhere to drop dead".
And the boy from Haravatat would reply softly, stroking his golden strands, that there was no one in the world who could even catch his attention
"I don't deserve your love nor your good intentions, I'm just a poor alcoholic..." mentioned the Light of Kshahrewar walking away from the greenish-gray haired boy as if fearing that he could bury the thorns he had created around him
"I love you" Repeated the Haravatat scribe, trying to get close again.
"Don't fucking lie to me, I'm just a doll at your service, what will you genuinely want from me?" The words were real needles thrown at the younger one, who received them even if they hurt like a thousand devils
The Light of Kshahrewar had been drinking quite a lot, one could see and feel the strong smell of alcohol emanating from him, but his euphoria was nonexistent, as he clasped his hands and flailed in front of the other man, who calmly approached again
"You discarded me long ago, you look down on me because my ideals are different from yours. You despise me because I would like the world to be a better place and that's what I do, that's what I try with all my being."
"But neglecting the most important person..." The younger one repeated calmly to him, taking another step towards the blond.
"How could I believe that 'I love you' is sincere, if you only care about your own well-being?"
Another step, the gray-haired one's hands moving even closer to the trembling blond man.
"You'd better get away at once, I couldn't bear for that feeling to be a lie... Go away please... AlHaitham..."
The hug was too warm, too comforting, and without another word it conveyed every last feeling of the scribe of Haravatat. He was never good with words, and he regretted it, but he had hopes that his arms, his body, could convey every little particle of feeling towards that boy who trembled like a dry leaf in the wind.
"I love you."
The light of Kshahrewar began to shine like never before, closing his eyes and falling surrendered to the embrace that he himself sensed as completely sincere. His lips searched for the gray-haired man's in a timid way, then delivering with a long-desired kiss.
"I don't know what I would do without you, AlHaitham."
"You are my everything Kaveh, no matter how many times I have to repeat it to you. You are everything I need and want in my life."