Chapter Text
Exhausted, Kaveh tosses his keys aside.
He winces at the loud, metallic clatter ringing through the air as they hit the counter. It’s only a matter of time until Alhaitham appears, complaining and ruining the peaceful evening Kaveh had planned for himself.
However, he’s met with silence.
Kaveh frowns.
The room is dim. As he walks further in, he notices Alhaitham lying on the divan, completely still, as if asleep.
How strange. It’s not like Alhaitham to be sleeping at this time of the evening. Sleeping too close to bedtime disrupts his night’s rest, and if anything, he’s a man of habit when it comes to resting.
An odd thing about Alhaitham – out of all the bizarre things that he says and does, which is a lot – is that he’s rarely emotional. He prides himself on his rationality. Strong emotions are concealed beneath his impassive exterior, although Kaveh has caught glimpses of them every now and then; a slight downward curve of his mouth or a certain dimness in his eyes, an indication that he’s displeased.
The control Alhaitham has over his emotions is a talent Kaveh can only ever dream of having. Honestly, it makes him seethe.
Now, however, he doesn’t appear to be much in control.
It seems as if he’s–
Kaveh’s heart lurches.
Carefully, he takes a step forward. “Are you sulking?”
Alhaitham doesn’t so much as stir, his chest heaving with every deep, even breath he takes. His cape is draped over the armrest, his headphones lying on top of it. The shell of his ear is peeking beneath his silver locks, a rare sight for how inseparable he and his headphones are.
“It’s polite to answer when you’re asked a question,” Kaveh says. He sits down on the floor, his back resting against the divan and eyes darting to Alhaitham. “Not that you’re in the habit of being polite, though.”
Alhaitham’s hand comes up to scratch his nose. “Your question was foolish, so there was little point in answering.”
“Ah, so you are awake. Must you be so insufferable?”
The only answer he gets is a single, dismissive huff.
He looks deceptively peaceful with his eyes closed and lips a thin line. However, underneath the hand plopped on his face, Kaveh recognizes a strange, uneasy tightness in his features.
Instead of being difficult, he stays silent. He’s subdued.
The concern burning in Kaveh’s chest flares up, tightening its grip on his heart, hot and aching.
“Are you alright?” he asks.
The soft, hushed words leaving his mouth surprise them both. Kaveh’s face feels hot, the warmth spreading from his cheeks all the way down his neck as Alhaitham’s eyes flutter open.
He’s squinting at Kaveh through his fingers, his brows furrowed and a curious, calculating glint in his eyes.
Kaveh fidgets with his bangs, a heavy feeling swirling in his gut.
He and Alhaitham were a lot of things, but soft was not one of them. He should’ve learned his lesson by now. Trying to pry information out of Alhaitham was like pulling teeth – painful, pointless, and embarrassing.
“I mean, you’re acting weird,” Kaveh backtracks, hardening his voice. “Just lying here in the dark. I almost thought you were a corpse.”
“I feel fine.”
Kaveh opens his mouth, then closes it.
Traces of uncertainty are hidden within the words, the same uncertainty reflecting on his face. When had Alhaitham ever been uncertain?
He might not always understand Alhaitham, but now, he sees him.
He leans against the divan, the back of his head nearly hitting Alhaitham’s thigh, and blinks at the ceiling. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why did you bother asking, then, if you never intended on believing me?” Alhaitham murmurs, closing his eyes once again.
“I would’ve believed you if you said something other than I feel fine. If you truly were alright, you wouldn’t have answered the question in the first place.”
An amused hum leaves his mouth. “You caught me.”
“So?”
Alhaitham’s eyes glaze over in thought.
Patiently – bouncing his leg, fiddling with his ring, and biting his lip – Kaveh waits.
He’s the epitome of patience, really. And even if he isn’t, who’s to blame him?
Alhaitham accepting his concern instead of countering the earnest questions with rude, sarcastic quips is unheard of. It feels like a step forward – or like a step backward (in a good way!), back to their days at the Akademiya when everything was softer and more transparent between them.
During their time apart, something had shifted. The casual banter had given way to anxiety-inducing arguments, the disconnection sometimes so severe it felt like an impossibility to mend the rift between them.
It’s hard to grasp Alhaitham’s intentions, but even harder to stop trying.
Alhaitham lets out a soft, defeated sigh.
“I’m just feeling a bit melancholic,” he says. He meets Kaveh’s gaze with a frown. “It’s the anniversary of my grandmother’s funeral.”
Alhaitham’s eyes are not sad, nor are they regretful. He looks thoughtful, mellow, a bit lost.
Oh.
Alhaitham’s grandmother had passed away before they met, and from what Kaveh knows, she’d been Alhaitham’s only family. That was one of the things that had drawn them to each other: neither had any familial contacts, and thus they’d found each other.
Kaveh had no idea.
“Did you manage her funeral on your own?”
“Yes.” Alhaitham’s staring at the ceiling. His words are careful and slow. “I barely had the time to process her death. Although it’s been a long time since then, I cannot help but to feel a bit strange around this time of the year.”
“You were just a child. To go through all that at that age, that’s…”
“I’ve been told I was mature for my age.”
“Still.” Kaveh shakes his head, exasperated. “That doesn’t mean you had to go through that.”
Alhaitham huffs. “It had to be done.”
Kaveh purses his mouth. Smothering the spark of irritation igniting in his chest, his mind’s working on a different approach.
He stares at the table before him, at all the books which had piled on it. “Were you sad?”
“Of course.”
“Are you sad?”
A small pause, then Alhaitham speaks. “Not really. Not as sad as merely melancholic.”
The words seem sincere.
It makes sense.
The instances Alhaitham’s admitted to feeling sad could be counted with one hand, partly because he’s good at hiding his negative emotions, and partly because he’s so good at rationalizing them that he truly feels alright most of the time.
So of course he isn’t sad. Alhaitham is never sad.
To Kaveh, the thought of not feeling sad is strange. He still feels sorrow for his father, for his mother, and the suffocating emotions cannot be smothered no matter how hard he keeps on working or drinking.
Alhaitham’s way of handling sadness is foreign. He doesn’t let grief linger on longer than necessary. Unlike Kaveh, he doesn’t dwell in the past. He doesn’t let it consume him.
Melancholic. Kaveh can only wish his own feelings could be reduced to that.
He sighs, body slumping further against the divan. When he glances backwards, Alhaitham’s eyes are already on him.
“What was she like?”
“Wise,” Alhaitham says. “Very wise. She allowed me to make decisions for myself and gave me enough space to think. She taught me that it’s more important to enjoy the small things instead of chasing glory.”
Kaveh straightens his legs. “That explains why you grew up to be like that.”
Breath catches in Kaveh’s throat as a soft sigh escapes between Alhaitham’s lips. The corners of his mouth have a gentle, upward tilt to them, and his eyes soften, their emerald hue lighting up.
“It really does,” Alhaitham says, words laced with affection. Even his voice is softer. How awful. “She was good to me.”
Alhaitham’s body radiates warmth behind him, his leg almost bumping into his back, and – oh. Oh. They’re close. Close enough to touch, to–
Kaveh clears his throat. His heart is beating out of his chest.
“You’re, um. You’re surprisingly sincere.”
“When am I not sincere? I have no trouble talking about how I feel,” Alhaitham says. Gently, he kicks Kaveh with his leg. “If you asked, I would answer. I don’t see the point of sharing such matters unprompted, however.”
“Huh,” Kaveh says. Then, he frowns. “Wait, that’s not true. I’ve asked many times, but you’ve–”
“You have not. Not when we’re alone.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It does.” Alhaitham sighs. “I’m not like you, scribbling drunken messages for everyone to see.”
“Hey. We were talking about your grandmother, why are you suddenly insulting me?”
Alhaitham tilts his head. “You remind me of her.”
“Really?”
“Yes. She was a Kshahrewar scholar, and like you, she was also an idealist. And I recall her chiding me for my lack of aesthetics.”
Kaveh blinks at him.
His crush – yes, Kaveh is self-aware enough to admit to having a crush – saying that he reminds him of his grandma, of all people, is a bit…
Kaveh doesn’t know what to make of that.
“At least someone in your family was sensible, unlike you and your horrible taste in furniture," he says, flustered. “Have you visited her grave yet?”
“Yes. This morning.”
Kaveh nods. “I see.”
“I hope she appreciates my choice of flowers.” Alhaitham sighs. “To be honest, I’m not sure which ones were her favorite, or which ones she'd enjoy looking at.”
An idea crosses Kaveh’s mind.
His throat feels dry, nervousness bubbling in the bottom of his stomach as if he’d downed one of those awful, carbonated Fontainian drinks.
He highly doubts that Alhaitham suggested anything by those words. If Alhaitham wants something he says it outright, not hiding behind subtleties.
There’s no reason to assume that Alhaitham would need him for anything.
Still – could he be so daring?
Kaveh swallows thickly. “I could help you.”
Alhaitham does not answer, but Kaveh feels him shift on the divan, the pillows rustling.
“I could help you pick the flowers. Next year, I mean,” Kaveh continues. His hands feel numb. Next year – were they going to be a part of each other’s lives that long? “Could you take me with you? I’d like to meet her.”
Silence falls, filling the room with its suffocating presence.
When he dares a glance at Alhaitham, he’s already looking at him with a strange expression, eyes slightly too wide.
Alhaitham nods. “Of course,” he says, slowly. He lowers his eyes. “You could meet her today, too.”
The relief turns into confusion at the words. “But you already–”
“I did, yes." Alhaitham's gaze is scorching. “I don’t mind visiting her again. Her grave is nearby.”
It’s rare for Alhaitham to invite him anywhere; it’s usually Kaveh who initiates their shopping trips which, more often than not, end in him having a drink in his hands.
And it wasn’t just any invitation. It was an invitation to meeting the most important person in Alhaitham’s life.
“Alright.” Kaveh smiles. “Let’s go.”
His grandmother's grave is well kept, an evidence of how much she's loved and appreciated. A fresh bouquet of flowers is placed in front of the stone; a selection of sumeru roses, mourning flowers, and nilotpala lotuses.
It’s beautiful.
Alhaitham crouches in front of the grave. With a quick glance at Kaveh, he speaks. “Grandmother, meet my roommate.”
“Just a roommate?” Kaveh asks. He means it as a joke, but now that he thinks of it – isn’t he at least Alhaitham’s friend?
Sure, their relationship is complicated, but hasn’t he re-earned his friendship by now?
“Hm.” Alhaitham scratches his chin. Wind catches in his hair, sweeping his bangs off his eyes. With a sharp gaze at Kaveh, he lets out a small smile. “A correction then. Grandmother, meet Kaveh.”
“Now I’m nothing?!”
Alhaitham merely shakes his head, a strange expression on his face.
Kaveh pouts. Still, he sighs, clasping his hands together. “Nice to meet you, Alhaitham’s grandmother.”
A long, quiet moment passes at the grave.
Afterwards, they find themselves walking through the city. It’s a warm, lazy evening, and due to Alhaitham’s insistence, they pass through the bazaar.
By the end of it, Alhaitham has his arms full of fruit and a gentle smile on his face. The tightness in his jaw has disappeared, and instead, he looks relaxed. Happy.
Kaveh’s heart skips a beat.
Maybe he was wrong about Alhaitham. Maybe he does need comfort, in his own way – a quiet evening and company to take his mind off things.
As Alhaitham’s shoulder bumps into his, he doesn’t complain, but nudges him back instead.
It’d be a shame to break the peaceful atmosphere, after all.