Chapter Text
Kaveh stood outside Alhaitham’s door, his palm hovering over the door knob hesitantly. Sleep has been a fickle friend for the past few nights, flitting in and out with the stress and nightmares clawing at his heels. A Tired sigh escaped his lips.
This is ridiculous… Hayi would never care about me. He would throw me out the moment I step foot into the room…
He turned around to head back to his room, but the warmth and comfort of just having someone nearby tempted him. His sleep deprivation didn’t help him either. His usually vibrant eyes were dull, the dark circles beneath them a testament to the mental battles he must endure. The latest architectural project had him in a stranglehold, a frustrating tangle of permits and stubborn clients. Anger and irritation bled into his work, each discarded sketch adding to his growing disappointment. Sleep, if and when it came, was a battlefield where he wrestled with anxieties, waking up more drained and tensed than ever.
But… It’s just one night, Kaveh thought
Just to steal a few hours of decent sleep. Hayi wouldn’t mind, would he? He’s a heavy sleeper anyway. And I’m just going to borrow a small space on his bed. He’ll be fine.
With a final push of courage, fueled by a desperate hope for some semblance of rest, Kaveh turned the knob and slipped inside. The room was bathed in cool moonlight, casting long shadows from the messy stack of scrolls on Alhaitham’s desk. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and ink, a familiar aroma that usually calmed him, but it only amplified his unease tonight.
Kaveh crept towards the bed, the floorboards creaking a soft protest beneath his bare feet. He held his breath, listening for any sign of Alhaitham stirring. But the scribe’s breath remained steady and deep, a comforting counterpoint to the frantic hammering of Kaveh’s own heart.
Thank God, he’s asleep.
He stalled for a while, glancing over at the still form beneath the sheets. Alhaitham, with the soft, white sleep shirt, looked serene, the moonlight dancing between the strands of his hair, giving it an ethereal glow. Unlike Kaveh, sleep seemed to claim him effortlessly. The scribe looked younger, and less guarded in the soft light, reminding Kaveh of their shared pleasant past.
What if he wakes up? What will I say?
Shame burned in his throat, laced with a strange, unwelcome flutter in his stomach. He hated being vulnerable, hated needing anyone. But exhaustion was a turbulent current, pulling him under.
Taking a deep breath, Kaveh settled onto the very edge of the bed. He felt exposed, like an intruder in someone else’s sanctuary. Every muscle in his body coiled in anticipation.
Would he wake up? Would he be angry?
The silence stretched on, punctuated only by Kaveh’s shallow breaths and the murmur of the people outside their home.
Minutes crawled by, filled with Kaveh’s internal battle. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his body began to relax. The warmth of the bed, surprisingly inviting, seemed to seep into his tired muscles. The scent of Haitham, a blend of something familiar, yet something he couldn’t quite place, was unexpectedly grounding. He let out a long, shaky breath, surprised at how tense he’d been.
Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Just one night…
Sleep, the elusive muse, finally came. It wasn’t a deep sleep, filled with dreams, but rather a light, restful slumber. Kaveh didn’t dream, didn’t fight the demons that plagued his nights. He simply… slept.
The first rays of dawn painted the room a soft orange, chasing away the last vestiges of night. Kaveh stirred, the warmth of the bed pulling him back to sleep. But the memory of his predicament jolted him awake. He couldn’t stay here any longer.
He sat up carefully, wincing at the crick of his neck from sleeping in an awkward position. A glance around the room confirmed that Alhaitham was still asleep. Relief flooded through him, tinged with a pang of something he couldn’t quite define.
He doesn’t even know I was here, Kaveh thought, a strange mix of disappointment and relief washing over him.
He crept off the bed, moving with practised stealth. He neatly arranged the sheets as it was before, fluffing the pillows to remove any trace of his presence and tip-toed towards the door, the familiar creek of the floorboards causing a wince out of him. He slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.
One night of decent sleep. That’s all I needed.
He made his way back to his room, feeling lighter, the tension in his shoulders eased.
Maybe one more night, he thought, a smile curling his lips despite himself.
Just one more night should be good enough.