Work Text:
“What happened to your hair?”
Cyno can’t help but notice the familiar grey-haired head that usually flops in and out of a book has turned into a shade of white.
“Ah.” Alhaitham looks up to greet who he’s been waiting for. “Nilou was unsure of the effectiveness of a newly made hair dye for her upcoming performance. As this dye makes little to no difference to the Lesser Lord Kusanali’s hair, she asked if I would be willing to be the test subject instead.” He recounts his morning as he puts the book back in his pouch. “What do you think? Since you don’t seem to have a hard time recognizing me, I assume it didn’t work that well?”
“I wouldn’t say so. It was the book that gave it away.” Cyno puts his work belongings down to the side while Alhaitham finally calls the waiter for some drinks. “I like that it helps me find you quickly even when it’s busy.”
Cyno can see Alhaitham more properly now that he sits down across him. The new colour is much lighter, and the little traces of mint hair that usually stick out are no longer seen. As a dye, it did well in covering what was unique to Alhaitham’s hair, but what’s even more worth noticing is–
“Your hair looks like mine now.” Cyno lifts a lock of hair to compare - pure platinum that shines well under the tavern’s lights. “I’m not sure if mine’s natural. Hair whitening due to stress and outside forces can happen, and there wasn’t enough documentation from early childhood for me to confirm.”
“It’s a pretty colour.” Alhaitham touches Cyno’s hand, admiring the long strands of hair. “Not many people have a chance to see it with your headdress on almost all the time. A shame.”
Cyno has gotten used to Alhaitham running his fingers through his thin, dry hair, regardless of whether or not he had the time to take care of it. Yet, hearing the compliment directly from him makes him feel like he still has a long way to go in getting used to this fervent but comfortable feeling.
“You look ethereal,” Cyno reaches for the platinum hair shorter than his own, gently feeling the softness familiar after the dye still. “I can get used to this. In case somehow the Akademiya drives you crazy.”
“I can assure you that I will already have a prevention in place before that can happen.”
Cyno grins. He doesn’t doubt that for a minute - the most recent catastrophe of Sumeru was the proof, and he even got to witness everything alongside Alhaitham.
“Too bad, the dye was designed to be easily washed away with soap,” Alhaitham looks pleased. “So you’ll have to wait until I grow old for us to match again.”
“Oh.”
Cyno blurts that louder than he thought. By the time he registers why warmth is spreading not just on his cheeks but also across his chest, Alhaitham flashes a smile just wide enough to confirm that he understood the words correctly.
“There’s also a chance of your hair turning grey like mine. I want to find a book about this and see which is more likely to happen, now.”
Even the flush can’t hold Cyno back from laughing. Looking at the random thought turning into actual writing on Alhaitham’s memo, he traces the other free arm, falling right into the larger palm meant to hold his hand tight enough that perhaps he will see the result of that hypothesis someday.