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The sand beats heavy gusts against the walls outside the room. The structure is sound, it will not fail. But it’s sound is loud and fearsome and in its impact, it is relentless. It is distressing.
Kaveh at the very least is distressed. Despite knowing this building is safe, despite knowing exactly why it won’t fail, the sound alone is distressing. The idea that it could fail, is terrifying.
Kaveh can only imagine how Alhaitham must feel, sitting on the bench afoot the bed. He hasn’t moved for a moment. Kaveh only remembers the sound of the door’s shut and lock before the sand picked up and blocked out all other noise. And since that shut and lock, Alhaitham has not moved from the seated bench afoot the bed.
Kaveh has already relented with the fact that this is where they’ll stay for as long as this storm lasts, but Kaveh has no idea what Alhaitham is thinking. Kaveh is too tired and afraid to ask. If he says it wrong it’ll be a burden and Kaveh doesn’t feel like making anymore mistakes.
This situation isn’t even his mistake.
There was only one room left, which is understandable. So Kaveh has done nothing wrong, but Alhaitham hasn’t assured him once that this is fine. Alhaitham can share a bed and be fine, right?
It would be lovely if Alhaitham would just say that or something like that because it’s stressing him out more than he thought it would.
Kaveh didn’t make a mistake, he tells himself as he sets Mehrak against a wayward chair and heads to the mirror and sink.
He busies himself with taking out the pins in his hair, strictly ignoring Alhaitham. Kaveh isn’t going to gut himself further over someone unresponsive. But his heart beats, it hammers, it rabbits. Kaveh is scared. He still feels like this is his mistake.
It’s fine, it’s not a big deal, it’s not his burden. He just needs someone to say it and he’d be fine. That’s all. It’d all be perfectly fine if someone just, told him he’s fine. He’s okay. He did nothing wrong.
But he can’t expect that.
Kaveh is thoroughly gutted.
His last pin pinches his root and tugs at a broken strand on its way out. It pinches in an uncomfortable way, in a way that makes his heart hurt further.
Kaveh feels distressed, and the storm has very little fault. If only someone would take the burden by his shoulder and tell him by his cheek that everything’s okay. Kaveh promises, he’d be fine.
But that is not real, and there is no one to expect this of. There is only Alhaitham, sitting stuck on the bench afoot the single bed that’s gonna have to fit them for the night. They have to meet with the traveler tomorrow, they can’t afford to be controversial about where they sleep.
With no other sign of motion, Kaveh straightens and steps out of the mirror. “Which side do you want?” He asks. Alhaitham makes no sign that he’s heard him but that doesn’t stop Kaveh from continuing. “I’ll take the right. You can stay by the door.”
“I want the wall.” Alhaitham says.
Kaveh blinks, once, then slowly, he relents. He almost feels tricked out of it but, “Alright, take the wall.” It’s not too important to him, outside of the fact that it was his decision and changing his decisions too quickly is a scary predecessor to indecision. But Alhaitham has finally moved. Kaveh relents. It’s not that important.
In fact it might be better this way. The wayward chair that sits Mehrak is closer to this side and the switch to the lights is as well. Kaveh rarely gets a chance at control quite like this, but it feels good. To be in charge of the lights is, good.
It’s only a minute later that Kaveh has already changed his mind of that notion.
When is he supposed to turn the lights off? Alhaitham has slipped into his side of the bed but he’s still moving. His pillow seems to be fighting him. He should wait, once Alhaitham is still, then he’ll shut the lights off.
Satisfied with this idea, he waits. Kaveh waits but then a new idea appears. Alhaitham can fix his pillow and his arm and arrange the wire on his deskside table perfectly fine in the dark. What if keeping the light on is actually more awkward for the both of them? Alhaitham could even think Kaveh’s waiting on him on purpose, to be petty. Kaveh isn’t frustrated that Alhaitham needs extra time to settle in, but he could assume that way. Kaveh would be in the wrong, in Alhaitham’s opinion.
But when has Alhaitham ever thought about Kaveh enough to think about his frustration?
Irrelevant, it’s not a hard conclusion to come to. Alhaitham wouldn’t even have to spare a second, Alhaitham wouldn’t even have to necessarily think about Kaveh to think that perhaps Kaveh is frustrated and being petty and deeply resentful about the events of today and actually blames Alhaitham for all of Kaveh’s mistakes and especially about sharing the bed. Even though he doesn’t. But it’s easy to misunderstand. It’s very possible.
So Kaveh has to eliminate that possibility for both of their peace of mind.
He should turn the light off. How rude of him. Kaveh does nothing instead. Alhaitham has stopped moving.
“Turn it off.” Comes the gruff command. Kaveh’s pulse quickens instantly, hackles raised. He wants to defend himself but he’s already losing the battle in the playthrough in his mind.
Kaveh defeatedly leans over, ignoring the uncomfortable unprepared jerking strain of his empty belly, and shuts off the lights. He should’ve eaten something before bed. He’s hungry.
Kaveh is hungry and now it’s all he can think about. But it wouldn’t have been possible without disrupting the plans of the day and that’s not a battle he can win against Alhaitham. It’s not something he can lure him to either, Alhaitham has very specific times that he eats and dinner is not part of his schedule.
Kaveh can’t do that, his body is screaming. He’s hungry. He’s already burned the appetite he’s fed not even a handful of hours ago. But that’s useless now. Unnecessary. He should sleep.
Immediately his mind tries to conjure the absence of blackness, something boring, something routine, something uninteresting, something not distracting. It’s blank but not quite. The light of the outside is bothering him.
Alhaitham has shuffled for the second time. A large breath then an aborted exhale. Alhaitham’s heartbeat feels like his own. He’s uncomfortable. Kaveh is distressed. Alhaitham can’t do this, he recognizes.
And all of a sudden, neither can Kaveh.
Kaveh opens his eyes for a split second, he sees the ceiling then he sees his eyelids. The black and burned red muddies into clouded vision then nothing important at all. His mind runs towards comfort, warmth, the blurred face of something cute, desert foxes. The desert foxes shift and contort and their bodies bend at awkward angles. It’s terrifying. Kaveh’s pulse rushes. No good.
Kaveh blinks, black muddies into red then nothing. His temple aches like a spot in the middle of his spine. His breath gets a bit too fast and he tries to slow it but it’s loud so he holds it.
Alhaitham sighs.
Kaveh goes still immediately. Alhaitham remains quiet. Slowly, Kaveh releases the tension, as quietly as possible. The distorted face of a man and a woman materializes and that ache in his spine returns. He blinks. His eyes remain open too long to see black.
Alhaitham is distinctly awake. He’s breathing. It’s distracting.
Alhaitham’s breathing in itself isn’t necessarily bad, if anything hearing breathing helps Kaveh when he sleeps. Tighnari’s steady breathes have sent him into a nap many times before. It’s comforting, it’s distracting just enough that his body breathes on its own without him having to think about it and with such an easy task, his mind slips right under. But this is different.
Alhaitham breathing isn’t an issue, Alhaitham huffing shortly, sighing too fast, filling the room with an air of frustration, that is the issue. Kaveh’s body can’t calm down. Kaveh’s heart is beating so heavy in his ear he thinks he won’t hear the next sigh but he does, loud and clear, as if it’s his fault Alhaitham is upset.
Is it? Kaveh has a moment of weakness where suddenly the only possible reality is one where Alhaitham is deeply angry and Kaveh bears that responsibility.
He should’ve shut the light off sooner. He shouldn’t have waited. He should’ve suggested Alhaitham take the wall. He shouldn’t have chosen it for himself, he must’ve made Alhaitham feel embarrassed for stealing it from him.
This is no good. Kaveh can’t calm down. He needs to defend himself.
He won’t win. In any reality, if Alhaitham is upset then he has the right to be. Kaveh won’t win this. Kaveh is in the wrong, he can’t defend himself and win. Alhaitham is too smart to let that happen. What can he even do?
In an attempt to preserve his sense of safety Kaveh loses his train of thought to a dream. A fantasy takes him away. In a separate reality, where Kaveh is good, Kaveh is loved and he has never known pain. Someone holds him. Arms curl around his tummy, steady breathing holds his chest as a loud beat drums through his back. He is held. He is heavy. He is safe and sleepy and his belly is full of warm bread and rice and soup. He’s had a couple drinks, just enough to feel light in his head.
Kaveh is good in this reality. Alhaitham has told him he’s done a good job handling the crabby old clerk at the office downstairs, the one who’s just been told someone threw up in the lounge. In this reality Alhaitham sleeps by the light switch and handles it for him. In this reality Alhaitham is in control and Kaveh is allowed to sleep without consequence.
In this reality Kaveh has no consequence. It does not matter what he does or who he is, Alhaitham is fine, Alhaitham is happy, Alhaitham is not upset. Kaveh is held. Not by Alhaitham but someone else, someone who cares and loves him and wants to take care of his worries. Someone like Tighnari who’s his close friend, but not Tighnari. Someone Kaveh wants to hold back, someone Kaveh wants to handle the stresses of and rub the knots out of their shoulders. Someone, someone who doesn’t exist. Not yet.
In this reality they exist and they happen to look like Alhaitham because Kaveh needs them right now. If they were here they’d be Alhaitham. Not because he’s Alhaitham but because, Kaveh needs it to be Alhaitham.
That reality dies early. There’s only so much distortion to Alhaitham’s personality til it’s insanity. It’s not practical to lie to yourself. And it’s not like Kaveh necessarily craves anybody, he just wants to sleep. That’s all. And feel fine. That’s all. His heart is fast. His body is strung tight. Kaveh just doesn’t want to be in trouble anymore.
Alhaitham suddenly flips onto his side, makes eye contact with Kaveh, and immediately turns his head to the ceiling all whilst releasing the heaviest sound that could possibly be pulled from his chest. Kaveh wants to cry.
Don’t misunderstand me, parrots through his mind at a pace that turns it unintelligible. That’s all he can think before he defends himself.
“I didn’t do it on purpose you know.”
The silence is demeaning. No breathing, no heavy sigh, no response. Kaveh is forced to continue. It is embarrassing. It is terrifying. It makes Kaveh livid.
“You were still moving so I just didn’t shut the light off, that’s all. I thought you needed it.” He tries to keep his voice even, he tries to keep his voice quiet, but he can’t hear himself over the sound of his own heartbeat.
“What?” Alhaitham’s voice comes out quiet, like his throat didn’t quite prepare to speak all the way.
Kaveh doesn’t know how to clarify himself any further. He doesn’t know how to explain himself. He shouldn’t have to. He’s just going to be misunderstood, what’s the point? He doesn’t want to bother. He doesn’t want to.
Why is Alhaitham so upset with him? What did he do wrong? Why is it always his fault? Kaveh’s whole body is on fire.
He’s about to explain it all again, real simple, as best he can despite knowing the tone is going to sound offensive. He doesn’t have the ability to tame himself. He’s going to be misunderstood anyway.
But Alhaitham interrupts him, “What are you talking about?”
It’s like feeding a flame with fresh tinder.
Why does Alhaitham never understand him? is Kaveh so difficult to get? Does anyone even really know him if it’s this easy to get confused by him?
Kaveh tries so hard, he chooses his words so carefully, he thinks so far before he even starts. Why is this so difficult? Kaveh is so afraid he’s going to lose every good opinion ever made about him all over a stupid misspeak.
“The lights. I’m by the lights, I was supposed to turn them off on time but I didn’t so you had to waste your breath on telling me and now you’re all huffy—“
“I’m huffy?” Alhaitham sounds upset by that. Kaveh had already assumed he was upset by it all to begin with. Kaveh doesn’t know where it ends, he has yet to realize he doesn’t know it’s beginning either.
Once he’s started speaking it’s like he can’t stop. Airing his grievances he confesses his regrets like sins, “I shouldn’t have assumed I’d take the side by the wall knowing you probably already knew where you wanted to sleep.” He starts, he doesn’t recognize his volume is rising and his pitch is cracking, “I should’ve given you the time to let you pick.” He’s trying to be quiet but he wants to be heard, “I should’ve asked the Clerk specifications about the room, I should’ve made sure there were two beds.” His voice ends on a whisper.
Alhaitham says nothing while Kaveh speaks. Kaveh wonders if he’s listening or if he’s coming up with a counter. Kaveh feels enraged at the thought of nothing he said being heard.
Alhaitham has yet to counter. Alhaitham has yet to say a thing. The only sound that comes, is a sigh. Kaveh cries.
Tears peck at his lashes, budding up like they burn from the sun. He has no control over this. His lips are dry and his throat burns and he has no control over this. He has nothing left to say to defend himself. He is utterly defeated. Alhaitham has not needed to say a word to win. Kaveh had already lost.
“Why is everything a fight with you?” Kaveh was right to recognize Alhaitham’s frustration. Alhaitham sounds like he wants to hurl something at a wall. Or at least Kaveh assumes that’s what he feels like. Kaveh rarely sees Alhaitham’s rage unless it’s over his bowls being dirty when he wants to use them or his laundry going missing.
This is something Kaveh rarely deals with. He has no idea how to handle it. So he cries. He’s at the end of his wits, and even that feels like a loss. He’s embarrassed. He’s embarrassing. This is as far as his wits go. This is all he can come up with. No wonder he can never win.
Kaveh cries quiet. Despite his unsteady volume control, his cries are quiet. His eyes drip unsteadily, tears fighting their way down his face. Many don’t make it out, quietly stuck in his eyes. He can’t see the ceiling. It’s muddy.
Alhaitham sighs slowly and with it goes Kaveh’s pooled tears. The only sound that comes is a choked swallow. It’s so loud in this quiet room, louder than the sandstorm beating the caving walls outside.
“You should get to sleep.” It hurts to hear, like it’s mean.
“Please don’t make fun of me right now.” Kaveh defends himself the best he can without inflicting pain.
“I don’t understand.” Owie, Kaveh’s mind says with the voice of a child. Alhaitham continues, “You’re acting like you’ve done something wrong. All I want is to sleep.”
“Haven’t I?” Kaveh bites.
“Have you?” Alhaitham doesn’t know. Kaveh’s alternate reality slowly crumbles. Alhaitham has no idea that Kaveh has made mistakes. This in of itself was the mistake. Assuming Alhaitham knew that Kaveh should be in trouble. Oh God.
“I’m—“ Kaveh chokes. How can he just apologize and expect it to all be fine? He can’t bandaid this burden with an apology. Oh God. Kaveh is drowning in embarrassment. Suffer, his mind tells him, just sit there and suffer for it. Mend your sins with suffering.
Alhaitham sighs again. Kaveh’s entire body flinches. Alhaitham looks at him then turns his head back.
It’s a small movement but Kaveh recognizes it instantly. He wants to suffer alone, not with an audience. This is horrible.
For the remaining moment, Alhaitham is quiet. Completely silent. The sand plays outside.
Kaveh is stuck, he can’t move, he can’t breathe and he can’t cry. He wants Alhaitham to sigh just to break him out of this frozen body. But he doesn’t. He does nothing. Alhaitham seems frozen too.
“Please sleep.” Alhaitham commands. Kaveh wants to obey, but it’s the wrong answer. He’s supposed to be good, not compliant.
“It wouldn’t be fair.” Kaveh defends.
“Why?” Alhaitham whispers.
“I can’t leave you alone.” Kaveh’s head hurts.
“Please,” Alhaitham breathes, “just leave me alone.”
Immediately, “I’m sorry.” slips between his lips, like he’s guilty.
Alhaitham is successfully rendered silent. Kaveh didn’t want that. Kaveh just wants to fix it. A bandaid doesn’t work. He doesn’t know what to do. Why is this so hard? Alhaitham and him, were close. They were so close.
It was so much easier when they were kids, when Kaveh’s mistakes were childish. This is too much. Alhaitham is always right, Kaveh is so tired of feeling permanently wrong.
“You don’t understand.” Alhaitham tells Kaveh.
Kaveh feels that remark deeply, as he does everything Alhaitham has ever told him. If he can’t understand Alhaitham, who is he kidding thinking he deserves to be understood? To think Kaveh, who fears misunderstanding, could only ever misunderstand. How sad. He doesn’t know what to say to that other than to accept it and feel the suffering that’s tagged along.
Alhaitham makes that sound that says he’s about to speak, then he speaks, “It’s not your fault. Everything you think you did wrong,” he was listening, “it’s not important to me.” It sounds harsh but Kaveh looks for the meaning before he lets himself feel the way it’s said. He doesn’t want to misunderstand. “I’m frustrated, that’s all.” Kaveh knew it. “But it’s not—“ you? It sounds like he’s about to relieve Kaveh of his consequence, but he chokes it back, like it’s not possible. Somewhere, somehow, Kaveh is at fault. It’s grounding. Kaveh is not free. Kaveh feels teathered to the earth, far away from fantasy.
Kaveh finds enough words to ask, “What is it then?”
“I just, can’t sleep.” Alhaitham tells him, like that’s all there is to it and he’s resigned to this fact, “I can’t share beds.”
“You can’t sleep because I’m here.” Kaveh’s voice sounds hurt but he’s trying not to feel it, for Alhaitham’s sake.
Alhaitham can hear it though and he must be afraid of being attacked. Kaveh feels sorry.
“I can’t sleep around anyone.” Alhaitham speaks slowly, softly, the opposite of Kaveh’s ambivalent voice. Alhaitham is being gentle. “It’s too distracting.” He delivers the final truth.
It sounds familiar. Kaveh thinks he gets it. But he’s cautious about jumping that conclusion. It could be embarrassing.
Kaveh has to ask, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.” Alhaitham says it with such finality that Kaveh immediately loses his footing. He’s lost again. He’s a failure.
Kaveh is glad thoughts are personal. He’d hate to be judged for making Alhaitham’s struggles his own. Regardless, it’s difficult to handle. Kaveh doesn’t know what to say.
Kaveh only knows himself. Kaveh can only think about the dark and a full belly, warm arms and a steady heart thrumming through his spine. Kaveh only knows his own fantasies of being held to sleep, cradled like an infant.
If only that’s all it took. To slip to his side, to palm the sheets, hand and fingers stretched, reaching out in the dark for the warmth beside him. His heavy shoulder, his bicep, the skin of his forearm, to feel it, to hold it, to slip beneath and into it. To cradle him. To slip him under Kaveh’s chin, to hold him against his breast. To heal him, to hold him, to heal himself. Kaveh daydreams without the day, wide awake yet absent in mind. Could that possibly be what it takes?
While Kaveh was busy, lost in his search for a solution, it’s grown quiet. Alhaitham is quiet. The sand is slowing outside while the ceiling is company for two. Alhaitham has not shuffled onto his side since they’ve started talking. Kaveh doesn’t want to assume, but he thinks he’s given up on sleeping.
Alhaitham is hopeless. Not in a way that describes him personally, but in the way that he’s given up on finding a solution to his problem. Kaveh feels guilty. If he weren’t here, Alhaitham would be asleep already.
Kaveh doesn’t want to assume, “Still can’t sleep?” He asks, he’s nervous about asking, that’s why it comes out quiet.
“I expected this much.” Alhaitham is nervous to answer, that’s why it comes out a bit gruff, “It’s fine, just get to sleep already.”
Kaveh feels hesitant to bring up his solution. He can’t be sure the rejection won’t kill him. He knows his heart, it can’t handle things so easily, not like Alhaitham at least. Being told no is, it’s not just devastating, it’s shameful. To think he pushed someone to have to tell him no, he should’ve done anything to avoid forcing someone into that situation.
Maybe he feels this way because saying no doesn’t come easily to him, but despite that, it changes nothing. It’s still hard to hear. So he does his best to avoid asking.
This has meant a lot to Kaveh’s life, it’s kept him from inviting himself to places, it’s kept him from asking for better opportunities in his life, it’s kept him from pursuing things he loves, on the chance he could be told no. In the chance he could face shame and surrender. In the chance he could force someone into saying something they didn’t mean. He doesn’t want to become something he despises. But, he can’t face Alhaitham the way he faces everything else.
Alhaitham comes with a different set of rules. Things mean entirely differently around Alhaitham. Kaveh will get nowhere if he doesn’t ask questions. Even if rejection is imminent, especially then. It’s important that Alhaitham gets to say no, it’s important that Alhaitham gets to choose. Kaveh’s spent too long trying to save himself from giving Alhaitham control, and he’s always regretted it.
Alhaitham handles himself better, Kaveh needs to stop thinking he knows him best.
Kaveh closes his eyes and asks the darkness, what do you think of this solution, “Would it kill you if I touched you?”
The answer is immediate. “Yes” rejection was imminent. No matter how Kaveh words it to avoid no, even a yes is rejection. Kaveh breathes through it.
Kaveh speaks to himself softly and with care through his mind. He is not in trouble. He tells himself all the things he wished Alhaitham had said earlier. He is okay, nothing will change from this rejection. Alhaitham does not think any different of him. Kaveh lives.
The only remaining issue is, Kaveh has no other solutions. Kaveh’s only solution to feeling comfortable enough to sleep easy, to him, is touch. But to Alhaitham it’s burdensome. How can Kaveh think to help at all in this situation?
Because it’s quiet, Kaveh sees no consequence to thinking aloud, “We are so different.”
Alhaitham sees no reason to respond anything special. It’s obvious to him, they are.
This news is sad to Kaveh. Kaveh knew this, but it’s sad. Kaveh feels worthless to Alhaitham. How can he be useful at all? He can’t. So what’s the point of Kaveh to Alhaitham? There is none. It’s sad. Kaveh really, he really, he—to him Alhaitham is, he’s important. Alhaitham is special.
Kaveh wants to be useful to Alhaitham, like he was when they were kids. But he’s outgrown him.
Alhaitham has outgrown Kaveh. It’s sad. Kaveh feels hopeless. Kaveh misses it, he misses it all. Kaveh misses his childhood. His misses his mom. Alhaitham must want to sleep so bad. Kaveh has really just, made this so emotional. Kaveh has added to the burden so bad.
Kaveh doesn’t know how to apologize for this. How do you apologize for your entire existence?
“I can feel you.” Alhaitham is quiet, but he speaks. “You’re very warm. It’s making me self-conscious. Which makes it hard to sleep.”
Kaveh blinks. It’s like disregulated breathing. It makes Kaveh aware of his own breathing and then he can’t.
“I understand.” Kaveh says.
“Do you?” Alhaitham hums.
“I think I do.” Kaveh defends.
Alhaitham says nothing immediate. Kaveh assumes assuring him is not something he sees as necessary. Kaveh doesn’t find that strange. Instead Kaveh has a new idea.
“We can move the pillows.”
“If it doesn’t work it’s going to stress me out more.” Alhaitham rejects, “I don’t want to bother.”
“Then I’ll bother.” Kaveh defends, “Doesn’t stress me nothing to move some pillows.” Kaveh has already sat up and begun to line up the decorative throw pillows, left on the floor, between them. He sets them up on their back so they won’t fall, it works in giving the space from each other that Alhaitham must seek.
Throughout this Kaveh does his best not to look at Alhaitham. He wouldn’t want to stress him out further. He knows what embarrassment feels like.
Kaveh lays back against his pillow, seeing the wall out of the corner of his eye. It feels, like he’s alone. So it works. That’s what matters.
Alhaitham is quiet, but his breathing isn’t normal yet. A moment passes, then another. Kaveh feels his back slipping into an uncomfortable doze, but he’s so close to falling past that his body’s comfort won’t matter soon.
“It’s dark.” Alhaitham speaks.
Kaveh’s eyes peel slowly. His lips sleepily mumble, “Mehrak.” His briefcase glows a dim hue as it responds. “Be a nightlight, please.” Mehrak chirps a response and the room glows. It’s gentle. It’s bright. Kaveh closes his eyes again, looking for the black muddy red but he finds green. All the sleep drains from his body and his aching back is suddenly deeply uncomfortable. This sucks.
Kaveh cannot hold the sigh his body releases. It’s a last ditch effort, it’s hope, that without that breath his body will lose form and shift to sleep. But it does nothing but prompt something to fly over the pillow divider and land on Kaveh’s face.
He recognizes it instantly. Alhaitham’s shirt. That’s new. That’s helpful. It’s dark. Kaveh sees the black beneath his eyelids and the face of a desert fox. He sees the face of his mom and a handsome man waving at him from across the bar. He sees green, but it’s not Mehrak. He sees little else.
With the pillows around him it almost feels like he’s being held. It’s not uncomfortable, sharing a bed with Alhaitham. Even waking up in it is comfortable.
The shirt remains across his eyes, keeping his eyes dark, restful, his dream isn’t over. It smells like Alhaitham.
Kaveh finishes his dreams of a face on that someone for an innumerable time. That someone who walks by his side when he has no reason to be alone. That someone who rubs his back as he walks past. That someone who holds him and hums. Kaveh loves this person, deeply.
This is Kaveh’s fantasy, it always has been. To have this someone all to himself. To have this someone who wants him. To have someone.
Kaveh has had this dream for an innumerable time. The only difference on this waking is that he remembers it vividly, the face that appeared. The slope of that nose, the crease beneath that eye, Alhaitham’s lips.
Kaveh wishes that someone could be Alhaitham but there’s only so far fantasy can go before it’s separated entirely from reality. If he wishes any further it’s going to hurt. It’s going to be insanity.
Alhaitham can’t handle touch in his sleep. Kaveh can’t handle any less.
Kaveh knows this dream is unrealistic. Kaveh has had this fantasy before, when he was younger and impractical. Back when he thought people were there to make him feel loveable. But they’re not, their purposes are infinitely separate from Kaveh’s fantasy. Alhaitham’s purpose is infinitely separate. Kaveh has nothing to offer anyway. He’s too sleepy to argue with himself any further. He just wants to finish his dream, but the thought makes him feel shame and now his head is blank.
Kaveh grasps the shirt across his eyes and pulls it away. He feels the sheets around him and stretches best he can without offending the barrier. But Alhaitham is already up.
“There’s breakfast soon.” Alhaitham is washing off his face in the sink, “You should get up.” He uses a warm towel to dry his skin.
Kaveh whines, digging his face into the pillow beneath just to chase the rush of heavy bones and fuzzy brain. Just one more dream. It can be of desert foxes, just one more dream. His belly rumbles. So empty. He’s hungry.
Kaveh wishes to be carried, he envisions it in his mind, but lets that be it. All in due time, his body slowly kicks to start. His head clears and his limbs grow warm. He no longer needs the sheets.
“Alright.” he says to no one in particular, wiping his face with a long hand. He rubs at a lash and scrubs both hands across his skin, pulling to feel fresh, alive.
Mehrak makes a noise from the chair. Kaveh needs to get him into the sun to charge soon. With that thought he steps over to the mirror, avoiding Alhaitham’s path. His pins are moved to a corner of the sink, all accounted for in a neat pile. Alhaitham must’ve put them together. Kaveh uses the convenience to get ready faster. It gives him enough time to meet Alhaitham outside the door for breakfast.
Alhaitham leads him and Mehrak down the stairs and across to the storefront he’s found through the clerk at the inn. There must be something here that he wants to try so Kaveh follows behind with a hopeful stomach.
“They have fatteh here.” Alhaitham mentions as they open the door to the front, it jingles.
“Really?” Kaveh perks up. The inside is pretty, stained glass windows casting orange and green across the tables.
Alhaitham heads to one tucked into the side, it’s against a window so it’s seats are round and curved with plenty of space. Kaveh loves tables like these. Alhaitham prefers them too. It’s something they agree on frequently.
The wait for an attendant is short, good service and concise communication. Everything that would earn a good review from Alhaitham. Kaveh’s so busy staring at the inside of the building that he doesn’t realize Alhaitham’s gone ahead and ordered for him. He only notices when an iced tea is sat in front of him. It smells like his usual.
“Thank you.” He says, partly to the attendant, and partly to Alhaitham. One acknowledges him with a nod, the other fiddles with the paper Kaveh removes from his straw. “Pretty arches.” Kaveh hums, busy again. It really is a pretty building.
Alhaitham nods, maybe agreeing, maybe complacent. He seems to be in a good mood.
“How’d you sleep?” Kaveh asks, making conversation before he realizes this topic could be controversial.
Alhaitham doesn’t miss a beat, he raises a shoulder and makes a face. It looks like it was easier than he expected. Kaveh feels good, that’s good. He’s glad he didn’t sleep horrible after all they went through.
“And you?” Alhaitham asks. Kaveh wonders briefly if it’s for conversation or if he’s curious too. But he remembers, this is Alhaitham. He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want to know.
“I slept well. I had a good dream."
Alhaitham nods and asks nothing more. So he was curious, that solves that.
The service is fast, Kaveh and Alhaitham’s meals appear at the same time.
“Oh isn’t that your meat stew you like?” Kaveh recognizes the green powder on top of green vegetables instantly.
“The clerk says they make it with a special pattern.” Alhaitham grabs his spoon, brushing the edge with his fingers, feeling for any loose dust he has to wipe away before using it. “I was curious.”
Kaveh hums. He opens Mehrak beside him, retrieving the utensils from inside. “I brought your spoon from home if you want it. But it’s touched my fork if that’s okay.”
“You wash dishes fine, I’m not bothered. I don’t know how they wash their dishes here but the spoon is fine. Leave it in there for the next place, we won’t always be lucky.”
Kaveh nods. Mehrak chirps. He clutches his thin fork and pokes at his meal.
The fatteh is good, but it’s unfamiliar and that makes it rank lower then the dishes he’s had before. Still, a filling meal. When he finishes he realizes he craves a cap to it, something that would usually be filled if he had a drink with his meal. The alcohol fills his belly faster than tea, but he doesn’t like drinking this early. It’s a bit disappointing to be left in limbo but he’ll live.
Kaveh looks to his side just as Alhaitham slides a bowl of rice over. Kaveh blinks. It’s a separate little bowl with vegetables and a sauce that smells warm.
“Why’d you order it if you weren’t going to eat it?” Kaveh asks. It’s unlike Alhaitham to miscalculate his food.
“For you.” He says.
The bowl smells good. “Speaking so minimally,” Kaveh mumbles, “it’s like you want me to misunderstand.”
Alhaitham wipes at his hands with a napkin, “You can take it however you want, doesn’t matter to me.”
Kaveh pouts, “That’s harmful.”
Alhaitham actually looks confused, “Explain it to me.”
Kaveh feels ready to leap at the chance to explain himself. “Well,” he starts, “I could misunderstand.”
“I see no difference from your usual.” Alhaitham delivers.
“That hurts.” Kaveh tells him.
“It shouldn’t.” Alhaitham believes, “Misunderstanding someone you’re different to is normal.”
“I think differently.” Alhaitham makes a face as if to say “how could anyone think different when there’s only one right answer” but Kaveh’s used to it by now. “I think differently because I hold a different level of importance to it. I think differently about what you said because I think differently in general.”
“So you think differently because you’re not thinking about what I’m talking about.”
Kaveh opens his mouth to argue, but closes it to agree. He opens his mouth to affirm it, reluctantly. “I guess.” Alhaitham wins again.
It puts Alhaitham to rest.
Kaveh wonders if Alhaitham will give him his bread too knowing he likes it more than Alhaitham. But that thought is greedy and Kaveh is deeply afraid of what that makes him if he lets himself think on it further. Anyway, the rice is all he needed. It leaves him truly satisfied.
Alhaitham seems equally pleased.
Kaveh remembers something from his dream when he sees that face. He doesn’t want to remember a fantasy when he’s busy with reality but it’s prettier then the interior of this building and Kaveh is distracted.
Alhaitham is always distracting, this is nothing new. Kaveh has always felt these thoughts when looking at him. It’s ordinary. It’s mundane. It’s Alhaitham. Kaveh just wonders when it’ll start hurting. When reality and fantasy divide, wanting starts, and yearning hurts. It’s insanity to expect it to be fulfilled. But it’s pain to accept it.
When will Kaveh experience suffering just from looking at Alhaitham’s hands? Is he not suffering currently? Would he recognize the pain if this feeling is so mundane? It would be nice, is all he tells himself.
It would be nice if Alhaitham looked at him every once and a while. It would be nice if Alhaitham made eye contact when Kaveh wasn’t being stupid and was actually being impressive. It would be nice if Alhaitham was impressed by Kaveh. It would be nice if they kissed. Even just once.
How sad. Kaveh is no longer satisfied. The pain has started.
Alhaitham sips his water and Kaveh sits. The building is busy, Kaveh is distracted. Stuck in an alternate reality where Alhaitham is unimpressed by him. Where Alhaitham is uncaring. But he gave Kaveh his rice.
Kaveh suddenly has an idea. Who’s to say Alhaitham can’t be his someone. Kaveh dreams of a someone who rubs his back as they pass each other. Alhaitham has hands. Kaveh dreams of a someone who wants him. Who’s to say, Alhaitham couldn’t?
Kaveh needs to stop thinking he knows him best. Alhaitham can make his own choices. Kaveh just has to ask the question.
That’s all, he says, like it’s easy. That’s all, he says, as if fear does not consume him. He could be rejected. Alhaitham has rejected him plenty of times before, he’ll live. It could change everything. Kaveh is used to change, he can adapt. When should he ask? When will give him the best outcome? Isn’t that manipulation?
“Alhaitham,” Kaveh has been called impulsive on a couple occasions, but he doesn’t ever do anything he hasn’t thought of. He’s thought of this too much, “Would you date me?”
Alhaitham’s drink sweats on the table. “What’s your idea of a date?”
Kaveh’s heart beats, it’s fast, “Something with food where we talk and psychoanalyse each other to see if we fit each other’s life plan,” his feet curl and bend beneath his shoes, “maybe with the opportunity for another to collect more information.” He’s never had a conversation without eye contact, except for last night, except for now, “I’d like to hold hands at some point, kiss, experience intimacy. Be in love.” Alhaitham doesn’t look away even once. Kaveh thinks It’s the longest Alhaitham’s looked at him for. “Do you see that as a possibility for us?” Kaveh can’t look.
“I see no difference from our usual.” Alhaitham answers.
Kaveh blinks. “Well you don’t hold my hand—“
“I could.” Alhaitham defends. “But I already eat with you and psychoanalyse our future Kaveh.” Kaveh blinks. He’s confused, confounded, he’s processing. Alhaitham looks shy, “if you’re unsure and looking to find out,” his hair makes his jaw look slim, “the possibility between us,” his lashes look pretty with Kohl, “I’m open to it.”
Kaveh breathes, “Why?”
Alhaitham answers, “Take me on a date and find out.”
Maybe reality isn’t so bad after all.