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Alhaitham wakes up to a strange lack of noise.
Blinking away the sun spots dancing in front of him, he slowly pushes himself up on his elbows. He is met with little to no resistance as he finds his blanket thrown astray by his feet and groans at the bone-deep drag of his body. He doesn’t have anywhere to be today, at least he doesn’t recall, so he takes his time watching the dust particles in his room float about.
Speaking of, the sun is quite high considering the time of day. The scribe reluctantly leaves the embrace of his bed to take a peek outside his stained glass window.
Normally around this time, someone would still be up from the night before hammering away at his model designs or pattering back and forth from his room to the kitchen for an nth cup of coffee. As for Alhaitham, well, he should be on the couch reading by now.
Yet today, he awakens to none of that. In fact, he has slept way past his usual schedule. Though the extra rest is never unwelcome, his sense of routine grows wary of it.
He had dedicated his well-deserved weekends to scratching the surface of unread books in his study but that also involved cranking up the settings on his soundproof ear pieces to maximum—to which he finds futile to do considering a strangely silent architect. Don’t get him wrong, he’s certainly grateful for the change of pace. But dropping dead completely wasn’t in his roommate’s nature.
He doesn’t remember Kaveh mentioning anything about leaving for a project in the morning nor did he say anything about having somewhere to be. Even when he gets up to knock on Kaveh’s door, he is met with an empty architect’s den.
Alhaitham makes his way to the living room, fully expecting his roommate to be arranging paintings and whatnot, seeing as he isn’t anywhere else in the house (he tells himself it is to ensure that his tenant hasn’t died and skipped rent, nothing more).
Out from the hallway is an eerily quiet space. What’s even weirder is that nothing in the living room was how Alhaitham left it yesterday upon turning in for bed, which means Kaveh had to have been the culprit.
However much he tries to deny it, Alhaitham does in fact, acknowledge his unconventional placement of books. He has a system of categorizing what he’s read and what he has yet to read, in addition to particular subjects he wants to prioritize. It’s a system that some people don’t understand and it’s not his fault that people enjoy complaining about things they can’t comprehend. That being said, the books he recalls putting on the coffee table were nowhere to be found.
The crates of wine Alhaitham bought from Lambad’s at the beginning of the week were no longer sitting in front of the foyer and instead appeared to be tucked away elsewhere: some bottles displayed up on their wine rack in the kitchen and he assumed the rest in their storage room. The furnishings Kaveh brought home that were haphazardly placed in walkways were finally displayed (albeit begrudgingly, Alhaitham thinks to himself). Kaveh must have cleaned up everything when he went to bed.
He scans every surface for a possible note: the kitchen counter, the dining table, the shelves. No sign of Kaveh leaving him any note indicating his absence.
After another brief once-over of their living room, Alhaitham resigns his search and helps himself to the bowl of zaytun peaches on the lounge table. The sweetness that oozes onto his tongue is overwhelming, especially as the first thing he has tasted this morning. A refreshing contrast to the coffee he would normally be sipping on. He ends up picking up the only book left on the table and starts reading it from the beginning. It’s something he has already read multiple times and annotated. Upon finishing the first two pages, he finds that he is skimming over his own handwriting more than anything. As he flips onto the next page, he thinks he hears the front door open.
The house stays unmoving. He continues reading.
Alhaitham eventually makes it a couple chapters into the book before the words start to blur. He could have brewed a cup of coffee ten pages ago to keep himself awake but he honestly didn’t feel like it. Whenever Kaveh was still up working on his projects, he would make Alhaitham a cup too. He also liked experimenting with his coffee concoctions and always made Alhaitham try a cup with him. One particular brew he made a few nights ago was surprisingly good considering Kaveh just threw whatever they had left in their cupboards together. Just imagining the taste of it made Alhaitham’s mouth water. It crossed his mind to try his hand at remaking the blend, but he didn’t think he could.
He steals another look at the front door. The sun bounced off the colorful panels so delicately, like light catching on glass earrings. It feels like it would be a waste to spend the rest of the day inside with such a warm, inviting glow tempting him. He closes the book he was reading, not even bothering to slip a bookmark in. He was probably going to start from the beginning anyways.
Looking for an excuse to stretch his legs, he heads to the bazaar.
He takes the opportunity to slip on his soundproof earpieces before the doors open for him, but the sound of music immediately leak into his headphones. The rumble of persian drums and dutar hugs his chest. The smell of shawarma wraps and panipuri fill his nose. The bright lotus lamps around the stage washes the entire venue in light. Children and elderly alike are buzzing with interest as shopkeepers promote their weekend specials.
Making note of the things he needed to pick up, he starts by clocking in the location of the spice merchant. Kaveh had been complaining the past week about not having the right seasonings for dinner and though Alhaitham didn’t get the fuss about it, he made his way over. His roommate would normally be the one to buy these types of things so he isn’t exactly sure where to start when he’s met with a wall of different herbs and spices.
Hey, welcome in! What can I get you today? Alhaitham deciphers easily from the man’s lips, even with his ambience setting off. Harra spice? Perhaps some parisarahs for your stews?
Alhaitham points to a few vials that look the most familiar in color to him and holds up two fingers. He picks a couple more in case they weren’t the ones Kaveh wanted and then he pays the man.
Just as he drops a few coins into the man’s hand, he feels a tap on his shoulder.
Nilou waves shyly at him as she gestures to her own ears.
Alhaitham presses a button on the side of his ear pieces to turn on ambient sound.
“Hello, Nilou.”
“Surprised to see the Acting Grand Sage out and about at this time,” she says mostly in jest. “To whom does the bazaar owe the pleasure?”
He holds up some of his bags. “Just picking up a few things.”
“Did Kaveh come along with you?”
If even Nilou was questioning where Kaveh was, then that means he must not have been here today. That crosses off another place in his mental checklist.
“No, it’s just me today.”
Nilou’s eyes dim ever so slightly under the cozy theater lights.
“It’s so rare to see you two apart.”
She asks him if he was going to stay to watch their performance later tonight and if he would join alongside Cyno and Tighnari. He clarifies that he wasn’t aware of a performance but tells her he would consider it.
If his friends were planning to attend Nilou’s show, Kaveh would ideally want to go too. But he would have told Alhaitham beforehand if he was meeting up with Cyno and Tighnari.
Alhaitham mulls over it a bit and doesn’t render Nilou talking about the decorated attendance that the theater will receive. Not until the last part.
“... yeah and Kaveh came this morning to apologize about not being able to make the show tonight so I was just curious if you guys already had plans.”
“Did he now?”
“Mhm, something about needing to prepare for…” Nilou trails off and her tone suddenly goes quiet. Alhaitham is pretty sure that it isn’t the lotus lamps in the bazaar that color her face. “Uhm, to prepare for a new project is what I believe he said.”
He can tell she is wringing her hands behind her back, like she’s nervous about what she just (accidentally) told him.
Someone from the troupe calls out to Nilou from backstage and she excuses herself. As Alhaitham reaches for the button to deactivate ambient sound, he catches Nilou’s fleeting words.
Oh and by the way, happy birthday!
That’s right. It’s his birthday today. He usually didn’t bother with it unless Kaveh remembered it for him and made preparations to celebrate it. And of course, without the architect waking him up to tell him that he couldn’t stay home and read for the entirety of his special day, it completely slipped his mind. The fanfare is short-lived as his mood sours slightly at the thought of his roommate.
How awful of his senior to run off on his birthday. To not even leave a note before he disappeared this morning while Alhaitham spends it shopping for his things? Informing Nilou and probably by proxy, Cyno and Tighnari, but not him? He’ll have to bring it up next time he sees Kaveh. If the architect even remembered to bring his key to enter their home.
Before he realized it, the bazaar had bristled with more patrons as the day went on. Alhaitham inspects his haul: spices, blankets, coffee beans. It should be everything that he needed.
Standing aside, he peers over the sea of heads. He scans through all the stalls and makes absolutely sure that he didn’t miss anything he was supposed to get. In the distance, his eyes fall on a turquoise feather bouncing in blonde hair. He doesn’t realize he has made a beeline for the person before he finds himself on the other side of the bazaar.
Alhaitham watches as the feather hugs the side of a mother’s head as she bends down to coo at her baby. The vendor she was conversing with earlier offers her bite-size samples of golden berries and she smiles warmly as she picks the tiniest pieces to give to her child. Chubby hands reach for the soft turquoise feather and Alhaitham continues to watch as the mother plucks it from her hair. He only looks away when the quill is clumsily shoved into the baby’s mouth.
His sudden approach towards the scene seemed to catch the attention of the fruit vendor he was in front of.
Those berries look delicious, huh? We have a special offer if you buy them in a bundle with our zaytun peaches. Today only!
Kaveh would probably get fussy if he found out Alhaitham ate all the peaches he put out on the table in one sitting. He should probably take the seller up on his offer.
As he’s finishing up at the fruits vendor, a particular vase in the next booth catches his eye. It’s not pretty by any means but he’s intrigued nonetheless. The artifact is wider than it is tall, with a flared base that tapers into a narrow pour spout. The overall body is painted teal with white accents and offensive blue petals. Two little handles at the top of the mouth serve no other purpose than to simply exist on the vase and all Alhaitham can think about is how ugly it’ll look in their living room. It’s perfect.
Are you interested in any of our fine china, sir?
He doesn’t bother to acknowledge how much the merchant is asking for before pointing to the vase and handing over a small pouch of mora. The seller takes it graciously and hands Alhaitham the delivery form.
He leaves the bazaar juggling groceries and a multitude of scenarios in his head about how Kaveh is going to react to his whimsical purchase.
As Alhaitham walks out of the bazaar, a whiff of freshly seared fish rolls fill his nose. His feet end up following the scent and carrying him to Lambad’s.
Lambad greets him like an old friend when he enters.
“Hey, Alhaitham! You’re early today,” the burly man chuckles deeply. “What can I getcha, the usual?”
Alhaitham nods. After a moment, he adds, “And a bottle of your best wine.”
The owner dawns a pleased look as he writes down the extra note on his notepad.
“Hoho, a special occasion, perhaps?” His thick eyebrows wave suggestively.
Alhaitham shuffles the bags he has into one hand to better attune his headphones. “Of sorts.”
“Well, I hate to break it to ya but we got a huge reservation tonight so I can only serve up small dishes right now. But I guarantee it will satisfy ya just the same.” He says, funnily sheepish for a man his size.
“That’ll do just fine,” That explains why the restaurant feels emptier than normal. “And the wine?”
“On the house for a loyal customer’s birthday.”
Before Alhaitham can refuse, Lambad slips him the handwritten receipt and disappears into the kitchen.
It seemed his birthday garnered quite the attention, something he was more or less annoyed by. Not because they sent their well wishes, but knowing the fact that they were able to hear something personal through the grapevine without his knowledge. He thinks he has some ideas as to how they learned of this though.
While Lambad prepares his order, Alhaitham idly looks around the tavern. The staircase leading to the second floor is blocked with a signboard. Must be for the prior arrangement Lambad mentioned. The first floor is quieter than usual, just a few tables remaining from lunch. No sign of a certain drunk blonde either.
“If yer looking for Kaveh, ya just missed him a few hours ago.” Lambad says as he returns to box Alhaitham’s food. “He only came by earlier to ask for advice on some recipes, which is new.”
Now this is interesting. Kaveh venturing on his own to the bazaar and tavern, being friendly with everyone in his wake without leaving anything more than an impression for Alhaitham to find. The scribe’s suspicion grows.
“I see,” Alhaitham says, gathering his stuff and taking the takeout containers from Lambad. “Thank you for the food and the birthday wish.”
He departs the restaurant as Lambad becomes occupied with another customer.
With literal heavy hands, Alhaitham heads home. He wants nothing more than to go home and rest. He wants to eat his warm meal and continue his reading. He wants to take a nice long bath and drift off to the sound of metal tools clanging together. Wait, what?
He finally reaches the front of his home and pads his pockets for his keys. Alhaitham’s stomach was already whining at the smell of potato boats the entire trip over but once he opened the door, the richest scent of meat stew flooded his senses.
He closes the door behind him, taking off his shoes and looking around for the source of the delectable smell. He drops off the items he bought near the couch and rounds the living room into the kitchen.
There, he finds Kaveh with his back turned hovering over the stove, stirring various pans. He wears a soft green apron and Alhaitham can tell he’s humming to himself with the way he was bobbing his head. He shakes a nearly empty jar of spices over a steaming pot and turns around to a cutting board on his left to drop in some diced carrots. As he picks up the chopped vegetables, his cherry eyes fall on Alhaitham’s form leaning on the couch. He stills in his motion, nervous like a child caught in the act. The architect ends up resuming his cooking, dropping the carrots into the pot before wiping his hands on a towel.
Kaveh brings his hands to chest-level and signs. Welcome home. Where did you go?
Alhaitham’s eye twitches at the question. If anything, he should be asking him that. The scribe makes an obvious gesture to take off his headphones and hang them around his neck.
“Out,” he replies verbally. “I bought you what you asked for at the bazaar.”
“Oh, thanks.” Kaveh glances at the bags Alhaitham left on the floor. “Uh, you’re just in time for dinner. I made you your favorite.”
Alhaitham didn’t have a proper lunch in his attempts to find Kaveh not to be cooped up in the house reading so he doesn’t put up a fight. Plus, Kaveh’s stew already smelled divine. He wasn’t going to refuse delicious food.
“Why the sudden gesture?” The scribe asks, approaching the dining table.
Kaveh doesn’t pause in his action of scooping out the soup as he replies in mock offense. “Don’t tell me the great Acting Grand Sage forgot about his birthday.”
He helps Kaveh move some of the finished side dishes from the counter to the table.
“How could I when it seems like the entire city reminded me?”
The architect has some decency to look guilty, but only for a brief moment.
“Lucky you.” He says hesitantly.
After placing everything down, Alhaitham realizes that Kaveh didn’t portion out a serving for himself. The architect reaches behind himself to untie the apron and folds it neatly to put into the cupboard.
“I don’t want you to get used to this special treatment just because it’s your birthday, alright. So you better appreciate it while it lasts.”
Alhaitham is still standing by the dining table when Kaveh turns towards the hallway with their bedrooms. “You aren’t going to savor your own cooking? Where’s your bowl?”
He doesn’t turn around when answering the scribe. “I’m not hungry, I’ll probably have some after you.”
“Did you poison this?”
That gets Kaveh to turn around sharply. Outraged, he storms up to the scribe.
“What? How could you even think that I would do that?”
Alhaitham spoons the bowl of soup gently, watching as the steam floats off of it enticingly.
“It is a natural conclusion considering you refuse to eat with me.”
“I’m just not hungry right now.” Kaveh huffs. “I went through the trouble of making you dinner for your birthday so I assume you’d want some peace and quiet while you read and eat or whatever else you wish to do alone. That’s all.”
Alhaitham puts all the pieces together: Kaveh disappearing first thing in the morning, Nilou and Lambad’s sudden birthday wishes, the full course meal sitting in front of him.
“Are you done interrogating me now?” Kaveh looks away, almost ashamed in his efforts to make Alhaitham happy.
“Is this meal your present to me?” The scribe finally takes a bite of his stew and a burst of flavor surges on his tongue. He’ll definitely have to ask Kaveh to make this again.
The architect grows red at the implication.
“I’m short on funds at the moment so if you’re expecting something more, it’s not happening.”
As Alhaitham chews, he scoops another morsel of rice to submerge into his flavorful soup. “Can I make an additional request?”
“You! You are insufferable! Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you can ask for ridiculous things from me and expect to–”
“–Eat with me.”
Stunned, Kaveh stammers. “You… want me to eat with you?”
“Glad you heard me the first time.”
Kaveh doesn’t bother to react at the comment, mind still in a blur at Alhaitham’s request.
“You don’t have to if you really don’t want to,” Alhaitham says into his bowl of stew. “You can just sit and enjoy the fruits of your labor.”
The opportunity echoes with a pregnant pause. The silence grazes over their dining room and Kaveh has still yet to relent.
“Are you sure you didn’t poison this?” Alhaitham teases, even though he’s halfway through the soup.
Kaveh slams his hand on the table. “Am I seriously going to have to eat this stew in front of you to show you that I didn’t do anything bad to it?”
The scribe swallows another bite before getting up to the kitchen, knowing at this point that Kaveh was throwing in the towel and humoring his offer to share this meal together. He portions out a small bowl of brown rice as the architect makes himself comfortable at the dining table.
“It’s the only way I can think of to know for sure.”
They talk for a bit, exchanging snippets from their day dwellings before it comes to a lull.
Alhaitham is on his second bowl of meat stew before Kaveh pipes up. “Is it good? Is the meat too salty?”
He wanted to tell Kaveh that it reminded him of the way his grandmother made it. He wanted to tell him how much he appreciated him for going out of his way to cook dinner for him as if he didn’t already do it every other day of the week. He wanted to tell him how grateful he was of him, not just today but everyday.
“It’s fine,” Alhaitham says instead. Kaveh breathes sighs of relief but the contentment doesn’t last long. “But the carrots on the other hand…”
“You!”
Their conversation resumes naturally and they talk more about upcoming plans with tcg night. Alhaitham mentions something offhandedly about Cyno and Tighnari during his trip at the bazaar when Kaveh abruptly stands from his seat.
“Speaking of the bazaar, I got you a cake.” From the fridge, Kaveh pulls out a beautiful green cake with small white frosting details. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of sweets so it’s tea flavored. It’s made from dried adeptea leaves imported from Chenyu Vale.”
Kaveh runs a match across a striker and lights the candle atop the cake.
Alhaitham’s chest squeezes at the way Kaveh concentrates so intently on setting the wick aflame.
“There you go again, spending aimlessly, no doubt.”
Kaveh blows out the match and continues to flick the smoke away.
“Excuse me for wanting to splurge a little on my junior’s birthday!” Alhaitham fights back a smirk as he hears the honorific. “Now hurry up and make a wish.”
He listens to his senior and willfully closes his eyes. Truthfully, there was nothing more he could ask for from the birthday gods and whatnot. He has a roof over his head, a stable career, and a caring roommate that he comes home to. Over the warm glow of the candle, Alhaitham peeks through his lashes to see Kaveh smiling softly at him.
In that moment, a confession threatens to spill itself over his lips: “Thank you. I love you.”
But as he blows out the candle and cuts a piece of cake for each of them, he settles for this:
“This cake is quite good.”