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The gentle evening hour unfurls the mellow rays of sunshine, covering the world in gentle warmth and red glow. On the streets, a boy pleads with his mother to buy him sweets, as she scolds him without any bite, and in the end gives in. A young couple was out together roaming the streets, cheeks blushing and lips smiling. Friends laughed, families sang, as a gentle breeze blew through the lands, carrying the whispers of the day’s end and giving way to peaceful serenity.
Amidst the same warmth and breeze, the Scribe lay on his divan with his sleeping lover resting against him. The outside din was a tranquil symphony to them here, in the safety and silence of their home. They were both tired; the day had come to a close and so had hours of their exertion. Kaveh’s weight on top of him was not a heavy burden; it was a comforting presence to him, something that helped him keep ground. Kaveh was still too light, though, Alhaitham’s mind mused through its daze. He must have him lay down his projects for a while, eat and rest.
His fingers had intertwined themselves in the strands of Kaveh’s hair, on which the sunlight seemed to jump and dance, the gold with blush of crimson and amber hues. He gently removed one hair clip, and another, and one more and so on, till the locks were free. His fingers ran through them, untangling, the soft sensation soothing him.
He paused for a moment, still caressing Kaveh’s hair as the blond stirred, shifting his face slightly against the other’s collar; moved his hand to better hold his shoulder, while the other rested on his chest. A moment to settle. Then he was back to sleeping soundly. Alhaitham’s face eased into a fond smile; a smile which was not usually so easily seen by others. But this was their home, the only one here was Kaveh, and maybe he loosened up a bit when he was tired.
It was pleasing, joyful to see Kaveh enjoying a blissful sleep. Not all in Sumeru nowadays got plentiful rest at night; nightmares hung around their rest, waking them from what was supposed to their haven.
The prospect of slumber had become a hesitant dance for many; where people used to look forward to creeping in their beds, once a sanctuary, and drifting off, now an unspoken anxiety approaches as the stars began twinkling. Each closing of eyes is like a leap into the abyss. Full of unknown fears and battles with monsters which had made a home in their subconscious.
The nightmares as if wrap around their hearts in an icy grip, heartbeats thundering in their palms. Mere thoughts, and more often than not the darkest of them, turned into unsettling, lucid, seeming realities. The vulnerability of unconsciousness was daunting; the weary body longs for rest, while the trembling mind resists.
It was a challenge that both, Alhaitham and Kaveh were facing, nearly every night as sleepless as the other. Each night they would be together, a comfort for themselves and the other; in their cocoon of warmth their fears would be softened by the presence of their beloved.
Getting undisturbed sleep was rare now. If one of them didn’t have nightmares, the other would. But they were alright. Many difficulties had come to them in the past, which they had faced and conquered. This was just one more of the thousands that they knew would come in the future. And to them, circumstances were certainly more tolerable now; they had the warmth of their lover waiting for them at the end of each arduous day.
They would be okay.
Alhaitham’s eyes closed as weariness of the day seeped in. It didn’t take more than a few minutes for him to drift off to sleep as well. It was the most peaceful instant in his otherwise chaotic day, and after every difficult day the body begs for rest and refuses consciousness as soon as it gets the opportunity to lull off.
Just before he entered the dark place of rest, he saw the remains of the glimmering red sun, and then the world outside receded.
He was a little kid, out with his grandmother, staring at a family of four from a distance. The father had his arm around the mother; they were both laughing. The son was jumping with joy, holding something in his hand and pointing to something at the stall they were standing in front of. His sister, who seemed to be elder of the two, but still quite young, was trying her best to seem uninterested. But she was given away when her eyes sparkled at the brooch her mother held up to her; it was the kind of pretty she loved the most.
His grandmother softly called out to him to bring back his attention, and asked him the matter. He focused his jewelled eyes on her, taking in her features as he had done so many times before. Her gentle smile, wrinkled skin. The crow’s feet by her eyes which told of her ever-present smile and laughter. Her grey hair, which he knew used to be a light brown. Her kind eyes, looking to him ever in love and concern.
He shook his head, assuring it was nothing, and gave her his barely discernible smile. He didn’t need a large family or anything like that. His grandmother was enough for him. She was his parent, his best friend, his teacher. His everything.
She was the only one who loved him; she was the only one he loved.
He was at her bedside, and his throat raw from weeping. He clutched her hand tightly, but it only made him realize the truth all over again. The hand that was once warm and used to hold his own was now freezing as the rain that was falling, the sky mourning with him at the death of someone who had loved the world so, and was loved back. The room, once filled with her comforting presence and warmth, felt bare as if stripped of every cherished moment that ever took place here, the absence haunting.
The grief was maddening, for it never seemed to end and it hurt, it hurt so much, because where had his grandmother gone? She was here with him, just yesterday, telling him how he looked like his father and laughing. She said she loved him. So how could she so heartlessly just leave him?
He sat there, by her side even in her death. For how long, he didn’t know. He just knew that she was gone; he would never again see her kind smile, decades would pass by and she won’t appear by his side for a single moment. The sadness was like fear, in the way it opened up in his stomach and how it choked him. It was as if someone had placed stones in his chest, around his heart. It weighed him down but he could hear his heart beat; it was the only thing he could hear.
It will get better with time, they told him. The hurt will pass. Will it? He didn’t know; to him, all of it was unbearable agony that was ever-present. He might get used to the loss of presence of that warmth by his side, but that did not mean the ache would disappear. That did not mean he would ever forget her. He thinks he heard someone trying to console him but he doesn’t know; no sound went through to him apart from the thunderous beating of his heart repeating with a constant rhythm that no, no, no, this could not be, this was wrong, this is WRONG.
When she died, his smile was buried along with her.
He was in the House of Daena, working on a project. It had not been long before someone sat across from him. He glanced up, noticing the person was from Kshahrewar, a blond with pretty ruby eyes. And someone who didn’t shut up, as it became evident much sooner than he would have liked.
His name was Kaveh, he learned, and he was bored, and he had come here because he was curious about Alhaitham, having seen him in House of Daena everyday, studying so seriously, admiring his diligence and academic potential, and he was free to come to Kaveh if he ever wanted to ask anything, and weren’t some of the projects assigned to them utterly useless, and some of his classmates were so dumb, yada yada.
He did not know how the topics cropped up where they did.
Alhaitham didn’t mind the conversation; Kaveh did most of the talking, leaving him to only nod and say the occasional ‘yes’ or ‘no’. He was able to focus on his work too; who said he was listening to all that rambling?
The next day, he was there again, sitting in front of him, this time with his own project, rambling about how unfeeling his professor was and how he could give them so much work? And was Alhaitham done with his work, and maybe he’d like to go with him to eat something after?
He came to him day after day, again and again, until Alhaitham began to look forward to his arrival. Kaveh was kind. He could not deny that. He was not sure how they ended up befriending each other, but he didn’t regret it.
Well. Maybe sometimes.
As the days turned to weeks and months, he could not deny his growing fondness for the other. His presence was like the sun, lighting up the surroundings with its own light whose brightness none could match, his intellect like a polished diamond, holding conversations with Alhaitham as none other could, which just maybe often grew into heated arguments.
Little by little, his smile started to grow.
The happiness.
The bond.
The fight.
The separation.
Meeting again.
Living together.
Getting over.
Bonding again.
Falling in love.
The confessions.
The happiness.
All he could see was darkness and this freezing sensation that he couldn’t really feel, because all he felt was numbness. He stared into the pit of nothingness all around him; where was he?
He took mindless steps along an imaginary path. It had to lead somewhere.
There was nothing. He kept on walking.
There! Something gold was shining at some distance, and the silhouette of a man became clearer as he neared. He couldn’t make out who it was, but it was familiar. He broke into a sprint towards what he was sure he had seen it a thousand times before.
He slowed as he reached the other, and stopped at some distance. A smile made its way on his face as he realized who it was. Of course. Who else would be able to make their way in such a place of darkness, where only Alhaitham was?
Kaveh turned around, a wide grin on his face as he laughed and said something that Alhaitham couldn’t hear. Here, in the murky surroundings, he shone all the brighter.
Red irises in those sharp eyes. Dirty-blond ends in his hair. Soft cotton candy lips that he knows taste just as sweet. Beautiful. He was beautiful, much more than any art he admired. He didn’t understand why Alhaitham didn’t look at them with the same enthusiasm as him. But how could Alhaitham think of anything else as breathtaking when Kaveh in all his splendour was always there, and had created a home in his house, heart and mind?
He took another step forward. And froze.
Kaveh’s beam had disappeared. His eyes widened as he stumbled. Tried to balance himself.
Then his body crumpled as he fell to the ground.
Alhaitham stood there for a moment, unable to move. What happened? Why did Kaveh suddenly fall? Maybe he was tired and couldn’t hold himself up. It had happened sometimes.
The dread had taken root and grew as he closed the little distance between them and knelt down, begging desperately for what he feared to not have happened, called for Kaveh to say something back to him.
Kaveh didn’t.
Blood had pooled around his once bright hair. His rosy lips were now pale, slightly parted and his eyes that sparkled with curiosity were dull, staring at nothing. Not recognizing Alhaitham’s face that was hovering above him, fear and worry and grief in his own eyes. His body, once so full of vigor, now lay still, unmoving. It had been only a few seconds; what happened, right in front of him why did he fall without any reason?
Alhaitham breaths were coming in gasps now, as he stared at the gory and heart-wrenching image of the corpse of his lover. His Kaveh.
The unseeing eyes. Lifeless limbs. No response, no matter how desperately he called out.
And suddenly he was a child again, kneeling beside his grandmother’s body, left alone without a care for him.
Why was he dead? How did he die? He was smiling at him so happily a few moments ago, how did he get hurt so much?
His trembling hands gently cradled his face, still desperately asking for an answer which would not come. Blood staining him was ignored as sobs wracked his body. Gently touching his forehead to Kaveh’s, Alhaitham held on to him tightly. A scream made it way from his throat, then another, and another. Until his throat is scraped so sore that he couldn’t scream anymore. He then takes to repeating Kaveh’s name, even though it pains him and his voice breaks.
Another glance upon the lifeless corpse was laid, and lingered. He was bright, even in death.
He thinks he finally knows where he is. This must be hell, for such torment could not be anywhere else.
Alhaitham’s restless sleep broke, but he kept his eyes closed. His heartbeat was still erratic, body bathed in cold sweat and his breathing came in uneven, ragged gasps.
Again. The nightmares came again, refusing to let him rest. It hit him where it hurt the most, reaching into the fears that he kept locked away in the back of his mind.
With trembling hands, he reached for his forehead, as if to reassure himself. He eyes slowly opened and he took in the blanket that was spread over him and the fading of the orange and red that was present before he had fallen asleep, now just a breath away from slipping away.
He slowly took in deep breaths willing himself to calm down. The details of his terrifying dream were still fresh, leaving him shaken. His grandmother had always been a tender topic, and Kaveh…
Alhaitham heaved himself up from his position and removed the blanket from top of him. Standing up, he made his way to the kitchen; that was undoubtedly where Kaveh was. It was late evening after all, and most of their dinners were made by him.
His steps were slow, mind still heavy with sleep that hadn’t provided him with the rest it was supposed to. As he came closer to the kitchen, he could hear the sounds of utensils tinkling against one another and… a soft humming sound. He dragged his feet even though his body felt like it was made of stone, shifting his weight to the frame of doorway as soon as he reached.
Peace washed over him as he stood by, quietly observing Kaveh as he hummed a low tune, stirring a pot. His hair was tied in a side ponytail; he often did his hair like that since Alhaitham had once tied it like that in humour. He surprisingly found it comfortable and looked unfairly adorable like that.
He was so different from how he had been in the latter part of his dream. He was full of life, and his eyes were glimmering and bright, a loose apron tied around his waist. He shifted from one foot to the other; changed the hand with which he was stirring, not noticing the new arrival over sound of his own voice, hands busy with cooking, mind wandering elsewhere.
Relief struck a chord in Alhaitham’s heart. He had known, of course, what he had seen was nothing but a product of his subconscious, an imagined reality. But it wasn’t easy to not let fear take over him. An uncomfortable feeling had taken hold of him, and only let go now.
He stepped forward and crept up behind Kaveh, wrapping his arms around his waist. He pressed a light kiss to his nape, and buried his face in the crook between his neck and shoulder. Kaveh gently nudged him in response, small laugh escaping him.
Quiet whispers were passed between the lovers; a how was your sleep and a terrible. Another laugh and a comforting hand through Alhaitham’s hair. A few more sweet murmurs, and then content silence.
This atmosphere had been rare between them before. The air used to remain heated, with one smart comment being thrown this way, and another to match it was tossed back, their tongues as sharp as their minds. Of course, it still was like that even now; it was one of the things that made them even more attached to each other, as strange as it may sound to others.
This peace and quiet that grew between them, however, was just as welcome and loved. Sharp knives grow blunt with too much use and no care.
Alhaitham stayed there, his chin on Kaveh’s shoulder, for some time, unwilling to let go. It was warm, comfortable, and he was tired. Still, there was no way the dinner would be done if he kept clinging to Kaveh like a tail was attached to a monkey. With a sigh he hoisted himself and took over the stirring while Kaveh starts mincing garlic and onions on the cutting board.
They work seamlessly together, having gone through this ritual hundreds of times. With silent concession, Kaveh left the stew entirely up to Alhaitham, because really, the way that man made it gave it a flavour no one else could. Finishing the mincing, he started layering the rice over the marinated meat in a pot, with generous amount of spices and saffron with milk. Biryani was one of the things he remembered how his mother used to make. The kitchen was alive with the clinking of utensils, the chopping of vegetables, and the sizzling sounds emanating in harmony with echoing laughter and chatter.
An hour later, dinner was almost done. It admittedly took a bit longer than it should have, but according to Kaveh, it was all Alhaitham’s fault. Had the latter not suddenly licked Kaveh’s neck because he saw some powdered sugar there (how did that even get there?), they would not have gotten… a bit distracted. And wasted half hour.
To Kaveh’s immense delight, Alhaitham reached for a bottle of red wine, pouring two glasses. But how could two glasses be enough? He grabbed the entire bottle and took it to the table despite the other’s disapproving yet amused look. As they set the table, Alhaitham didn’t miss the new padisarahs on display and huffed a small laugh. The flowers were one thing Kaveh didn’t forget. They were, in a way, a means for him to know how the blond was feeling. The water was not changed? Kaveh was in despair over some matter, most likely lack of inspiration. The vase wasn’t clean? He was feeling down. The flowers had not been changed in two or three days? Time for a full day date till late at night! The flowers were wilted? Oh shit.
Well, all he had to do was keep an eye on the vase. Maybe throw out some compliments, as they made Kaveh immensely happy, despite hearing them after every couple of days.
“The padisarahs smell nice,” was all he had to say, and he was free to (shamelessly) stare at Kaveh for the next fifteen minutes into their dinner as the latter informed him where he bought them, at what time, who were the people around him, what he talked about with them, some gossip they shared with him, and apparently the nephew of the lady who lived two streets away from them was insistent on marrying a girl from Mondstadt, which his family didn’t approve because the place was so far away and she had no educational background.
Really, some things never changed.
Only when he almost choked so badly he downed more than half his wine in one gulp, did he take a pause, only to start off again at Alhaitham’s poorly hidden chuckles.
The air turned quiet again later after dinner when Kaveh brought out several stacks of papers and blueprints and lay them on the floor, getting to work, claiming his room felt too stuffy. Alhaitham, who had reclaimed his spot on the couch with a book in his hand, merely raised his eyebrows at this declaration. Right. As if he didn’t know that the reason was simply that the study where he usually worked was way too cluttered to have space to work properly and he didn’t want to clean up.
Kaveh put on a light music, as he usually did while planning the layout. Gentle enough to soothe them, soft enough so as to not disturb.
The minutes tick by in silence apart from the rustling of paper. Alhaitham looks up from his book quite often, just to catch a glimpse of his lover again and again, and assure himself that yes, he is still here because in some part of his mind, an unknown, unspoken fear still lingered.
He looks again, and this time instead of bending over his blueprint, he found Kaveh mindlessly staring at and stroking the ring in his finger. Emerald vines ran up the polished gold band, nestling a crimson ruby surrounded by smaller, studded diamonds. His eyes involuntarily flickered to his own ring finger, to the ring that sat there. The exact same design, but with ruby vines on silver band and emerald jewel. In those few seconds, Kaveh’s eyes had found him, and seeing him looking at his own ring, and wide smile grew on his face. Hurriedly folding his papers, he stashed them aside before walking up to Alhaitham.
“Dance with me?” He asked hopefully.
And how could Alhaitham ever say no to those puppy eyes?
He slipped his hand into the other’s, watching the matching rings clink against each other. “Of course,” he agreed fondly.
Kaveh’s eyes twinkled with delight as they swayed around the room in rhythm with the music, laughing as Alhaitham suddenly twirled him. They were by no means experts at dancing; both lost count how many times the other accidently bumped into them or stepped on their feet. But every such instance just initiated more laughter and teasing. The world outside seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them in the warmth of their home, their haven.
And maybe some anxiousness remained in their heart as they went to bed. Maybe some part of them wanted to keep on dancing in the others warm arms for the rest of the life and forget the pain, their weakness, their responsibilities. But so what if it did? Everytime they overcame anything, even if it was as simple as getting out of bed early, a sense of accomplishment came with it and it was enough. The one who got up early got the pleasure of seeing their beloved’s resting face, their choice of breakfast, and a little head start on the day. They got to see the rising sun, to sip coffee in the cool breeze of dawn, a moment of blissful quiet.
Such a small deed gave so much little happiness, scattered all over, for their finding.
And if Alhaitham’s arm was sore the next day because Kaveh fell asleep with his head on it, it was okay. They would be more careful next time. And Alhaitham for his part definitely enjoyed the massage he got from a contrite Kaveh, however much he acted annoyed.
Healing took time. It took care, attention and love. And many people find it difficult to provide those things to themselves. So maybe all they need is someone to care for, someone who cares for them. And they had time. They had months, years, all promised to be spent by each other’s side. They were healing, growing still, into the person they wanted to be and that was okay.
The sun would still rise tomorrow, people will go about their day, the injured bird they had found and taken care of two days ago will again fly out into the sky. And that one person whom you hate will show up again and if that isn’t unpleasant then what is, but otherwise you won’t feel the relief you do when they leave and that feeling will forever remain unknown to you.
It was okay if they were hurt or confused or in grief. To feel is to exist. There is nothing more common than that. Everyone is allowed to feel what they feel. To live and love is the greatest accomplishment.