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The alcohol burned so sweetly washing down his throat with each countless gulp of the endless drink. There was little doubt that he would regret it, hate himself for it in the morning. At least this regret did not haunt his dreams. Did not make him curse the universe for making him the being he was. This was a regret he could tolerate the consequences of but god, he hated that he needed this. His mouth broke from the bottle as his eyes closed wishing to surrender the darkness that greeted him. Even when he was close, a breath's distance away there was a line that separated them. A line Kaveh built brick upon brick, each a reminder of the eternity of differences between them.
The bottle clinked against the table to his disappointment empty, every last drop had been drained into his mouth. His obsession had a name, one he liked to say at any chance he was given. Alhaitham. He was not oblivious to how often he said it and mentioned it in conversation until his friends got annoyed. Enough Alhaitham, we get it you hate him they would say. But they did not get it, not really. Could they not see the way he used every excuse to feel his name slip from his lips, change the conversation to involve him in every topic he could?
Sloppily gripping the table he pushed back certain that the world was now at a new angle. Well, this would make new buildings slightly more difficult to design. He had paid his bill before he started drinking knowing full well he would have lost the money prior to finishing his drinks. Sumeru’s night air greeted him with warm kisses along the exposed skin of his back and neck. A small smile dared to form on his face wishing, only wishing, it was his kisses instead. Kaveh attempted to put one foot in front of the other, treading the well-worn path to the place he stayed.
He could not call it home. A place to rest his head, a place to live, yes. He had spent his life designing places like this one, places people could call home. They were all made of the same things, he could design one in his sleep each a different style but it was not the architecture that made somewhere a home. If it were that easy he would have a home already. Part of him knew the chances of him ever going home were slim to none.
The ugly face of reality was one he would rather ignore for this moment, as he stumbled back. Hopefully, this time the lights would be off, and Alhaitham would be asleep in his room. He was certain Alhaitham had caught him every time Kaveh returned to his home. His head tilted up and the stars greeted him as a painting of the night sky yet he saw only Alhaitham in it all. Alhaitham was not the stars, he was the star, the northern light, an unchanging reference point used throughout the history of the world. Even when the sun shone brightly, drowning out the darkness of the night the star was still there waiting patiently to act as a guide in the darkness.
Kaveh was nothing compared to his muse. But then again who was the creator compared to the masterpiece? Usually behind every historical masterpiece awaited a sad pathetic artist who is more in love with their own work than reality. That was how they lost their minds, would he be the same? He could pretend he would not, but the thousands of discarded sketches, ones of his face, his hands, his very existence scribbled onto discarded notes and sheets of paper would disagree. Would mark him guilty of the very same sins every artist was doomed to repeat as they were purely at the mercy of their muse.
The stairs to the apartment proved challenging, his weight leaned onto the railing as he attempted each step with increasing difficulty. To his disappointment a single light shone out from the living room, signaling that Alhaitham was in fact awake and awaiting his return. Kaveh was sure it was a control thing the reason he stayed up, maybe Kaveh had made a mess once or broken something upon his return, but he never remembered in the morning. But he could not have been too much of a fool because Alhaitham never said anything the next morning. Except when Kaveh would wake up still half asleep and half dressed as he wandered into their kitchen. That's when Alhaitham would start chiding him about staying out late, about how much he drinks. Yet he always placed a glass of water in front of Kaveh, a silent demand accompanying it waiting for the glass to be emptied. Alhaitham would not move from where he leaned on the opposite counter, his stare isolating Kaveh as the only object in the room. And Kaveh hated him for it.
The key was failing to fit into the lock, it just wasn’t right. He fiddled trying to get the metals to align but they could not, no matter how he tried this key was not the one meant for that lock. Frustration welled in his eyes one tear at a time. Maybe he deserved this, his body agreed as he collapsed his weight against the door frame sinking down onto the doorstep. His blond hair fell around his face, mocking the usual way it was held back, styled perfectly as if every aspect of his being was becoming the mess he thought himself to be.
Each tear slipped down his cheek, what a fool he was. He did not even have the key he needed to get back into this house. Every thought slammed into him. Failure. Fraud. Fool. It only took seconds for the sobs to choke him, his body curling in on itself as if it could choke him too. Each breath was harder to get into his lungs as if the very air around him had been taken away from him as well. His hands dug into the fabric of his pants as if he could do anything about this besides holding on.
“Kaveh?” He barely heard his name as it was said coming from his mouth. His body did not even shift as the warmth of two arms surrounded him slowly before they lifted his shaking figure from the porch. Tears spilled from his eyes as he buried his face into Alhaitham's neck. He hated the comfort that it brought him, hated the way he felt safer than he ever had. How each breath came a little easier as each inhale held the familiar scent of him. He hated most of all that if he was asked to describe what home felt like he would say home was never a place for him, it was here in Alhaitham’s arms.
“I hate you,” Kaveh said weakly between now silent sobs, and he meant it. Even as his fingers latched onto the fabric of Alhaitham’s shirt, his breathing slowed leaving him with his broken whimpers.
“I know,” Was all Alhaitham whispered in response, not that Kaveh expected anything at all, he had no right to. Instead, Kaveh continued filling the silence with each broken breath he drew and he confessed a new secret.
“I hate you 'cause you are antisocial and so bright, but you never let anyone in. I can’t win when it's with you and I hate it. I come up short before you. But I hate you most of all because I am amazed by you. A muse of sorts, it's infuriating like my life was created to be an orbit in the universe that is you. Yet all I am is that unnamed star whose orbit is so unimportant no one cares to study it.”
OoOoO
It wasn’t the first time, and Alhiatham was almost certain it would not be the last. The confession was the same one it was every time. The words always presented as if a well-rehearsed poem, one that was not meant to ever be published or read aloud. Yet it was one meant to be performed only for him just not in this manner. Kaveh’s confession ended as it always did, spiraling into a drunken slur of sleep. Alhaitham carried him, unconscious, to his room knowing that even through it all he had no right to hear those words so they changed nothing. He would do nothing until he heard them free from the clutches of alcohol.
He would not deny the way he lingered at the side of the bed after he had laid Kaveh under the covers. With practiced ease, Alhaitham removed every single one of the pins from where they were now tangled in the mess of blond hair. Placed each one in a row on the nightstand for Kaveh to use in the morning. His usual shoes were neatly placed in the corner of the room where he had seen Kaveh discard them haphazardly a hundred times. Not that the blond would notice the little detail. For all his claims of being detail-oriented, he was the most scatterbrained person Alhaitham knew. It was almost laughable the idea of Kaveh being a famous architect, the one who designed the palace. But he had seen it all, the way Kaveh destroyed himself for his masterpiece. The endless planning night after night, ink tattooed onto his face after he fell asleep on his designs again.
A strand of blond hair fell into Kaveh’s sleeping face, obscuring the now peaceful features of his roommate. His fingers ghosted over the pale skin brushing through the feathery locks of hair. Only once. No, twice. Kaveh never stirred, his body had finally found a state that it could rest in. For a moment he let his eyes roam the room studying the usually organized workspace. Papers were scattered across his desk as if he could not get the ideas out fast enough, yet none were finished. Each one was an attempt to clear space in his brain.
He studied the room around him for a second too long and his eyes caught sight of a crumpled piece of paper stuffed between books as if discarded from the rest. Kaveh hated creases. Alhaitham had found that out the hard way. Even growing up he remembered the way Kaveh scowled up at him over the accidental crease he had created in his homework. Kaveh hated anything except pristine paper so the sight before him put Alhaitham on edge. Curiosity ate at him as he stepped forward knowing he should not, that every move he made was a betrayal of his trust but he could not stop. Reaching out as if being pulled by a string Alhaitham grabbed the paper, greedily he uncrumpled as if unafraid that the sounds could wake Kaveh. The thin piece of paper weighed a thousand pounds as it rested in his fingertips.
Any sound, or words he could ever say were stolen from him in that moment. Even with the creases that distorted the original piece he could clearly see it. Sketched onto the page he found a reflection of himself as if a mirror. Not an exact one for this one was different, as if drawn from the perspective of a mortal looking upon their god. Each line was drawn in worship, the shading was a prayer to his god. Every detail marked unwavering devotion.
Around the original portrait as if to show the true character of this god were sketches of him doing different things, small things that he would have sworn Kaveh never noticed. Yet here they all were. His breath was stolen from him as he held the paper in his hands. How could he? How could he be so damn selfish, to pretend he hates him. How could he lie to his face every day but in the privacy of his own room pour out his heart to a piece of paper?
Alhaitham could not be truly angry he had to right to be. He was just as much of a hypocrite as Kaveh, it was their fatal flaw. The only difference was he knew. Knew what tortured Kaveh constantly, what drove him to the breaking point and back. Regardless of the consequences he would not dishonor his friend by diminishing his struggle with a confession because Kaveh would only hate himself more. Alhaitham’s confession would only be an escape route that would not let him finish the race his heart had started.
Standing from where he crouched on the floor he pocketed the drawing knowing that if he parted with it now he would return again later to see it again. A moth to a flame to remind himself that the sun, even a false one, still shines. Not that Kaveh would ever ask him about the drawing, his brain would simply rationalize that he lost it somewhere in his chaos. His steps were silent as he walked across the flooring, the one Kaveh had suggested he get because it would go well with the walls.
Just one more time, he allowed his eyes to rest on the sleeping figure, one he knew so well. His fingers flexed as he turned away carefully to shut the door without a sound as he left knowing that tomorrow could not be any different than today. This would be his hell, and if asked if he wanted to be anywhere else he would laugh at the idea. Kaveh was home, his home. He was just too blind to see it.
The drawing rested in his hands as he studied it over and over finding new details like hidden secrets each time he did. For a second he placed it down on his bed and grabbed one of his textbooks from the Akademiya. He referenced it frequently enough that they would think nothing of it if anyone ever came into his room and found it on the nightstand. But hidden in the pages of theories, of definitions of data science would be something of more worth than anything the book alone could teach. Delicately Alhaitham opened the book and slipped the art into those pages.
His head hit the pillow and he felt it all, his heart's cries but he drew a deep breath and with his exhale he released it all. Sleep was kind and came quickly to allow him to rest in her arms for the night. But she tortured him the entire night, flashes of red eyes followed by a golden smile. A laugh one he wished he could record, to play on a loop in his headphones because there was no prettier sound to ever exist. He almost hated it because this Kaveh was not real. This Kaveh was not him. The morning light reminded him of it harshly as it returned, erasing the fantasy. As it took every phantom to kiss back. They never belonged to him anyway.
OoOoO
Kaveh refused to release the delusion, the feeling of those arms encircling his waist. The sun could rise another day; he just wanted this moment to be forever. Except the more he focused on memorizing the sensation the more it slipped through his fingers not even leaving the ghost of him behind. Everything felt empty, a hollow shell of what it could be. Beams of sunlight burned his tired eyes only making the pain in his head blossom further. Each blink was heavy as he tried to open his eyes, tried to face reality but he could swear he could still smell the scent of him mixed into his sheets.
His muscles fought him as Kaveh stretched, unraveling from the cocoon he had encased himself in as if it had been Alhaitham’s arms. He hated how cold the flooring was as his feet touched down but he loved how it complimented the walls more. Loved how even though it was not his house every detail, every change, and upgrade done to this residence was done by his hands alone. The words were forever trapped in his throat. His actions however could say it loud enough that even Alhaitham's noise-canceling headphones could not drown it out.
In light of those devices, Kaveh started to learn new forms of communication with his roommate; he left notes that only got him a response that was not even semi-legible. It was no secret that Alhaitham had the worst handwriting possible. If future scholars ever pondered his work they would have to decipher a new language to understand his thoughts and ideas. For a time he tried with little to no avail to mouth words to his near-deaf roommate who would only move his hands up in response. He had observed Alhaitham using it on several occasions to communicate with some students who needed it.
Learning a language was far different from learning architecture, sign language required him to move his hands in ways he had never done so before. He could do the basics now, signing the alphabet and basic signs like food, and water, but nothing more than that. It was almost enough to fully cover nonverbal conversations with Alhaitham. There were still times when he could not keep up with what his roommate would sign in response back but he could usually get the gist of it.
There was one sign he had yet to figure out, Alhaitham did it often enough that Kaveh could reproduce the movements. He knew the first letter was I but the rest of it meant nothing to him so far. When he was not so exhausted from work he would put more effort into figuring it out.
The world spun slightly as his head pounded with the repercussions for his behavior last night. Not that he could really remember much of what had happened except maybe, no. Kaveh took his time dressing in his clothes for the day he had one meeting, one that could change his life. The feather tickled his hands as he secured it into his hair ensuring that even if he needed to fight his way across Sumeru the feather would stay in place.
He was meeting with a woman who could potentially give him the opportunity and funds to move into his own place, finally. One that would allow him freedom from the endless torture that was seeing the oblivious other half of his soul every day. He could do it; he lied to himself. Watch Alhaitham have a life without him. Become nothing more than a spectator, nameless in the stadium of thousands. In this lifetime and the next, if only it made him happy, he would do it. And it would make the other happy to be rid of the burden of Kaveh, or so he told himself.
His door creaked open, he would have to fix that later. The house was silent as it always was regardless of the time. The only thing that ever filled the silence was the sounds of pens on paper or the flutter of book pages unless the chorus of an argument broke out between the two of them. Their last one had been so stupid but Kaveh hated the silence he could not help it. A neglected candle needs a flame or it holds no purpose except to collect dust and look pretty.
The glass cup was placed in front of him before he even registered that Alhaitham was in the kitchen as well. Without saying anything Alhaitham raised his hand shaping it into a C and performed the motion, ‘Drink.’
‘Thank you,’ He moved his fingers from the sign to grab the water glass, lifting it to his parched lips. The water flooded past like a summer rainstorm streaming down his throat as quickly as it could. The empty glass did not even touch the counter before Kaveh felt fingers covering his own, accidentally. Alhaitham’s fingers were cold as they always were. Dipped in ice that melted before the sun, not that the sun noticed what it warmed. It warmed the world around it how could it bother to notice a small fraction of ice melting?
Years before as if in another lifetime Kaveh used to warm them up. Take those frozen fingers and hold them as if they were more precious than bottled starlight but the antics of childhood are easily destroyed by the reality of adult life. Alhaitham shifted his grip so his fingers only remained around the glass as he removed it from Kaveh’s hold. As if he too had relived the memory trapped in that moment.
Stepping around the counter Kaveh’s now free hands opened the fridge. His eyes searched attempting to find anything that would not send his stomach into a fit over the idea of eating it. For the time being he took the plain pieces of bread out and moved back to his chair at the counter only to find the same cup of water refilled and waiting for him. The same silent demand awaited his return like a welcome home.
The bread agreed with him for now as he ate slowly, ignoring the pointedly disapproving stare coming from the other side of the counter. He must have done something last night to piss Alhaitham off since he had resorted to no longer using verbal forms of communication. Although Kaveh was thankful for the silence, he was not sure he could handle even Alhaitham's moderately quiet volume.
‘What?’ Using both of his hands he flipped his palms upward and outward signing his question. Eyes bluer than the clearest sky stared at him, at his hands before shaking the still messy silver hair.
‘Nothing.’ The O shape of his hands moved from his chest outwards to a flat relaxed hand as those eyes no longer regarded Kaveh. And with that, his roommate disappeared into his room.
Kaveh did not see him or hear from him after that. Part of him assumed Alhaitham had soundlessly left for the Akydemia at some point to finish some project or teach a class. He never hung around the house more than he had to it seemed. Kaveh hated the idea that he was chasing someone, even if it was him, out of their own house to give Kaveh his own space. That’s why regardless of how broke he was, Kaveh spent the nights out, to give Alhaitham his house back. Part of the reason.
The bag was heavy as he packed it full of priceless designs to offer the client. This is what merchants must feel like before the markets, with countless items gathered for people to ogle over, to even purchase for their own collection. At least genuine ones that did not wish to rip you off. Although he was fairly certain his roommate was gone he still shouted into the still air of the apartment. “I am headed out to see a client, don't wait up on me.”
Silence happily answered him as it basked in the sunlight that streamed through the open windows. Realizing what he just said was pointless he grabbed a scrap piece of paper and legibly wrote his roommate a note. He fought with the tape as he attached it to the paper. His fingers hesitated as he stepped into the hallway near Alhaitham’s bedroom door. The door was cracked open as if he haphazardly attempted to shut it, but he knew his roommate never did anything without a purpose behind it.
He tried genuinely to step away and avert his eyes from the scene beyond the door. His brain forced his fingertips to move but his heart controlled his eyes. The door was open enough that he could see Alhaitham hunched over his desk, several books were meticulously opened and lying across his desk yet he held a paper in his hand. The scene before him did not surprise him but the paper. Kaveh squinted slightly as if he could enhance his own eyesight to see what was on that paper. But all he could see from this angle was the color of the paper, one of his papers.
His papers were thicker than the ones the Akydemia usually used, in order to soak up the paint he carefully added to his designs. The pages were not bleached white either; they had a natural tan to them, an homage to their natural roots. As if they still contained life in them. The thought startled him. Why? Why would Alhaitham have one of his papers? If he needed notes he had enough of his own notebooks to use for paper. Lost in his own thoughts he barely had time to register the set of eyes that locked with his own. Both were a flutter of movement, the paper was shoved under books and Kaveh quickly fumbled to tape the note to the door. An attempt to hide the fact that he had been staring, not stalking his roommate.
“Sorry I did not think you were home,” Kaveh started awkwardly breaking eye contact as his gaze drifted to the place where the paper was now half shoved under a book. What was on that paper? That Alhaitham was so desperate to hide? Maybe a love confession from one of his students? Or a lover? Had he been so blind as to not even notice? The thought choked him so thoroughly that air felt like delusion for a moment. But those eyes, the crystal blue water of paradise grounded him as he found his words again. “So I was just gonna leave you this note.”
The gray hair shifted slightly as he nodded in understanding. His features were as cool as they normally were schooled into a static indifference. Could he not act a little frazzled by the whole thing? But why should he, Kaveh was the outsider here, Alhaitham belonged here. His eyes, ever calculating, flicked to the note whose tape barely held it to the wooden door. As if it were a leaf the note fluttered to the ground proving to be another waste of Kaveh’s time.
“What did the note say?” There was a scratch in his voice as if sleep still partly had her claws in him. Kaveh could not help but wish to hear it again. Heard it every morning when he woke up next to him. Buried in his strong forearms then maybe he could call some place home.
“Just that you did not have to wait up on me tonight, I have a client that will hopefully be my big break!” Although he tried to mute it enthusiasm shone through in his words and that hint of a smile drew all of Alhaitham’s attention. Kaveh was the shining example of hopeful pessimism, he would believe in the hope of a better future until the reality of it came crashing down on him and all he could do was think the worst of himself.
“You already had a big break,” Alhaitham said or asked, he spoke in that voice that made Kaveh question how he had heard it. Was he asking or making a statement? It was his Mona Lisa tone that gave Kaveh the most trouble.
“Well yes, however, this one should go smoothly this time and get me the money to buy my own place.” There was a sense of pride in his words as if this one thing would solve all of his problems. It would not but Kaveh was the only one who did not see that. “And of course, allow you to have the privacy of your own home without the person you hate.”
“I don’t hate you,” Alhaitham stated as he always did in that clinically cut tone that left no room for error except this one. The statement was a paradox in Kaveh's head.
“It’s okay Alhaitham you don’t have to spare my feelings, we both hate each other.” Wrong, wrong. He was wrong in his words and Alhaitham was wrong in his. What was worse was Alhaitham never spared feelings, never hid the truth but his words were a contradiction to his actions. Everyone knows actions speak louder than words.
They both fell silent with a million words left to be said between them, still trapped in their minds where they would probably always be. Kaveh quickly bent to pick up the note that had failed him and left without another word. Even as he tried to think of other things, about his client or his future house all he could think of was his roommate. How he hated him so much he loved him. His thoughts were a mural for only him and all of it was green.
Alhaitham was green. Not the green of Sumeru and nature that filled the land around them until the desert choked it out. He was not turquoise either, that color was too bright for the disposition around him. Kaveh thought about it more often than he would like to admit ever aloud. He had spent an afternoon combining paints of all kinds searching for him in the shades. Stained papers in his pursuit but no matter how he chased it eluded him as if only an ideal he could pursue. Like other philosophers before him, he was only left with the reality that he could never reach the perfection he sought.
He was an idealist after all, no matter how much he tried to be otherwise. Alhaitham had always challenged them, forcing him to face how he saw the world. That was the difference between them Alhaitham could remove his heart from his examination of the world. Kaveh had been too hurt and bore too much scar tissue around his heart to do anything but see the world around him through his bleeding heart. It was easier to face a lifetime in the world without a heart than to brave a single day with a heart.
That was before the rest of his day went to shit. Each tear stung as if full of salt for the creation of a new ocean out of unending tears that fell one after another. His ideas were not good enough for the client. She had been insulted that these were his only ideas for her building. The hours he had spent laboring away with her set of parameters pretending they were the perfect muse. But they weren't. He had tried desperately to follow what she desired to create based on her demands and he thought he had delivered. A single thought kept hammering away in his head maybe he just was not good enough, was not enough.
Red-rimmed eyes would not be a welcomed sight by anyone muchless the students, the people who believed him to be something he was apparently not. They would all break out the pity cards, poor Kaveh they would start. He hated it, he was never looking for pity yet it was always the first thing that would greet him. He supposed that it was the one plus side of Alhaitham he never pitied, he criticized everything. The world was his equation and he would not hesitate to erase to rework mistakes according to the laws of his reality.
Kaveh had seen it multiple times the way Alhaitham never held back when he had feedback to give, positive or negative. He almost admired it, he would if he had not been on the receiving end more times than he would have liked to. Alhaitham could say the hard things, things people needed to hear but no one could tell them because they thought they were being kind by sparing them.
The path around Kaveh blurred and sharpened with each step as one after another a steady stream of tears fell off his eyelashes. He never tore his eyes from the gravel path around him. One foot then the next, repeat. Even without a clear vision, he could find his way to the house. Never once did he look up, to see who saw him, who judged him for the broken man he was. For the fraud, he pretended to be.
His nails dug into his palms, balled into fists to hide the shaking that persisted otherwise. Each step felt like he was unwinding himself, falling apart at the seams. Muscles in his hand clenched in an attempt to crush out the sobs that threatened to drown him alive. He could hold on just a little longer before he shattered like glass alone where he could bleed out on his own broken edges and flaws.
Kaveh’s legs carried him faster than he could breathe but he ran until his still shaking hands gripped the cold familiar doorknob. The door flew open with no resistance this time, his own fault for not locking the door. He could barely breathe as he looked up to ensure he was alone but the universe would never gift him such a treasure. His eyes were met with the sight of Alhaitham hunched over the table, the same piece of paper in his hands.
Kaveh could not stop himself from walking over to the table, to the man so entranced by a piece of paper he had yet to notice the other's presence. It was a spell that captivated Alhaitham's attention and Kaveh needed to know who cast it. To see who dared to take Alaitham away from him too, but his breath was ripped away from him as he saw it. “Where did you get that?”
His voice was strained as if his own heart was being held right in front of him no longer beating. A cold vacant mass of flesh without a pulse, Kaveh could feel the panic rising within him. He knew that paper, he had worshiped that paper with his pen, poured his heart onto that paper for the very person who now held it in his hands.
“You weren’t supposed to be home.” A flat tone coated the words, Alhaitham had yet to move a muscle, his attention still trained on the portrait of himself.
“Where did you get that?” A rising tension grew in his voice, he was never one to yell but this. His voice held a firm but dangerous line that if crossed could shatter his entire world quicker than breaking glass. “Answer me.”
“Your room.” A false calm covered the words as almost indifferent blue eyes reluctantly met the emotionally tormented red ones. Except they weren’t fully indifferent, not this time, a swirl of vulnerability lingered in them. A small detail that only an artist would be able to appreciate, to even notice.
“You went into my room?” The words hit Kaveh like a blow to the stomach, he could feel the nausea welling up in his stomach. How could he? For a moment his legs could barely support his own weight as he stumbled backward, his world began to crumble like castle walls around him. A palace of his own design, now in ruins. The pain was so suffocating that tears could not even fall.
The chair scraped along the floor as it was shoved back when Alhaitham stood. It took all but two steps to position himself in front of Kaveh. The blonde was not staring at him but staring through him, but he would not be painted as the villain. His hand gripped the loose fabric of Kaveh’s white shirt, as he closed the final gap between them. He would not have Kaveh’s mind twist this narrative.
“Yes, every night you came home drunk off your ass I went into your room, I helped you walk to your room. Helped to take your shoes off, take the pins from your hair, to make sure you made it safely into bed.” His voice was no longer masked with calm, it was drowning in emotions once locked away. They had been so perfectly organized until Kaveh shattered the display case and let them run rampant but Alhaitham no longer cared, he was tired of this game. “Why do you think your shoes were always on the correct side of your closet when you woke up? You did not actually think you managed to do so all by yourself?”
“How many times did you-” Kaveh could not bring himself to finish asking the question. He could feel each exhale that passed through Alhaitham’s lips, he was so close now. Closer than he had ever been except in Kaveh’s dreams. It was an inch, maybe less but this wasn’t his dreams. A delicate silence hung in the air.
“Every single time,” His voice was filled with a strain as he whispered as he spoke, his eyes displaying the emotions he so desperately sought to restrain. Red eyes roamed over his face, searching as if he could find the answer that he already knew. “Since you have moved in.”
“But you hate me.” The words fell from his lips before he even had the chance to think about it. From the closeness between them, Kaveh could smell the gentle scent of Alhaitham’s sage soap, the one Kaveh had bought for him. How had he not noticed that he used it, that he smelt like sage and lavender until now?
“No, I don’t,” A heavy sigh accompanied the words as if they had been said a thousand times before now. An air of almost defeat sunk into Alaitham's shoulders as his head tilted slightly to the side forcing his gray hair to shift ever so slightly. His lips parted for a second as he hesitated to speak again. “I never did.”
“But our thesis, you removed your name and threw it away.” It was undeniable evidence although Kaveh knew he was grasping for any sort of lifeline. It had been years since the events of their thesis. He just needed anything at this point to disprove or force himself to keep those feelings that had been eating away at him piece by piece for years now. The floodgates of his heart were held back by a fraying string and each word only made it weaker.
“Only to retrieve it and add my name back to it. I still have it in my room.” For a split second Alhaitham’s eyes darted to a cabinet by his bed, unveiling the location as if he needed Kaveh to see it. Daring Kaveh to push past him and see for himself, and a part of Kaveh wanted to but it would only make him more of a fool than he was already presenting himself to be.
“I do too, taped it up and kept it on my bookshelf,” Kaveh admitted shortly after Alaitham's confession, leaving both of them wordless before the other. Bare in a way that clothing could not cover. Somehow the silence was not painful this time, not like Kaveh remembered it as his breathing slowly evened out with each inhale.
“Being around you scared me, Kaveh you are the opposite of me. You made me feel the world, a world that I only understood in two dimensions but your world was three dimensions. You created things like magic, buildings, and palaces that will stand the test of time. That will hold your name in glory for longer than we can understand.” Words were spilling from his lips in a rapid pace falling in rhythm with Kaveh’s racing heart. Tears began to well in crimson eyes, stinging ever so slightly as Alhaitham’s words poured from his soul. “But your heart scared me the most. How can your heart be big enough to care for the entire world around you to the point that you hurt yourself with how much you care? But so blind the one person who needs you most of all?”
Each word Kaveh had ever known vanished from his mind as the tear droplets fell from his dark lashes onto his cheek. An eternity was captured in this moment, life times could pass and Kaveh would live his life here. Every ounce of his pain was reflected right back at him, carefully painted into all the flecks of color in Alaitham's eyes. Tremors shook his muscles as Kaveh barely held his own weight up, a building buckling as the world fell around it. Tearing his eyes away from the honesty in the blue ones, Kaveh could only gaze at the floor as he whispered out a broken sob. “I’m sorry.”
Every dream sensation he had felt could only ever be a sketch compared to the masterpiece of sensations that was actually touching him. Sketches are nice, but people did not pay for sketches, people from around the world came for the chance to gaze upon a masterpiece. Being in Alaitham’s arms was a masterpiece. Warmth wrapped around Kaveh, as he buried his face into the dark turtle neck covering the base of Alaitham’s neck. The fabric would be soaked shortly as a hand brushed through the blond strands coming to rest at the back of the blonde's head. Holding him there as if he were to let go all of this would only ever have been a mirage, a hallucination of the strongest drugs.
“Shh Kaveh, you are home. You have always been home.” Here in Alhaitham's arms, Kaveh shattered into a million pieces but Alhaitham caught every piece of him as Kaveh suffocated on his sobs. For once in his life Kaveh could tell you what home was because he was.