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The sheet of paper looked at him imperturbably and even seemed to be laughing at him. Did he not have a single good idea to draw? What would he give to the client? Obviously telling him that he had not been able to think of anything was outside of his moral ethics, for nothing in the world would he do that. That was when he took the pencil and placed it on the sheet.
Now what?
Shit, really, he was completely blocked and his anxiety and stress began to flutter through his body, forcing him to bite his nails and tap the ground with the tip of his foot in order to calm down. Because if he didn't, he was going to descend, fall to the depths of his mind and drown. Why was living all this so damn difficult and horrible? What punishments was he paying to live like this?
He closed his eyes tightly and grabbed his hair. Why was this happening to him? Why isn't he trying hard enough? What was wrong?
The silent hand that still held his pencil moved smoothly over the sheet. First a circle, then two trapezoids and a rhomboid in the center. He let his hand do whatever it wanted, because if it was finally the inspiration he needed, he would let it draw what it needed, without pressure, with subtlety. In the end, the sketch of what should have been a building was the face of his dumb roommate.
Or his boyfriend, it was almost the same, right?
Well, obviously he didn't expect that what he was going to present would be the face of his partner but he had to admit that looking at him there, with that impassive and sharp expression, caused him to wonder many things. To lead his mind to think and question the whys of his insecurities, even though Alhaitham had already told him that he had nothing to worry about. But come on, it was easier said than done. He didn't understand that. Not like Kaveh did.
Kaveh scribbled over the sheet again and again, filling each empty space with different perspectives and a very slight variation in the scribe’s expressions. In some places he drew his hands with and without that large glove he used to wear and, in others, he detailed every space and circumference of his striking green eyes with that hint of red. Alhaitham was, without a doubt, too beautiful, but Kaveh would never admit it out loud. Why did he need to boost that person’s ego?
Anyway, he stared at the sheet of paper in front of him, filled with everything Alhaitham had. Did he somehow fill in the empty spaces in the architect's life? It would make sense. While they had had their falling out back in their time at the Akademiya and Kaveh had been completely devastated, thinking that maybe he should have let it all go, not questioned and accepted. And maybe Alhaitham had been right but that harsh way he had of speaking definitely made Kaveh snap. He didn't want to say that but it spilled over.
It doesn't matter, without that they wouldn't have gotten this far. Maybe nothing he had now would sustain him if things had gone differently so he couldn't complain but he couldn't help but sometimes sink into those self-destructive thoughts.
Kaveh stood up from his chair and looked at the drawings. Would Alhaitham see him the same way he did? He knew he wasn't much of a wordsmith despite having graduated with honors from Haravatat, which seemed even more contradictory, but it was okay because Alhaitham was one for silent affection, like bringing him water, buying him his favorite fruit or a bottle of wine even though the scribe used to regulate the amounts he drank. But it was okay, because it means he cares, doesn't it?
The blond left the study with silent, soft steps, as if he didn't want to wake someone up in the middle of the night. He was barefoot and now he felt the cold of the floor sticking to the soles of his feet and he thought that maybe he should have put on some slippers or a pair of socks, but it was too late to regret that. So he chose to continue walking until he was standing in the hallway, right in front of the kitchen, where Alhaitham was turning his back on him.
Kaveh stood silently, admiring from a distance the person who, strangely enough, had managed to connect so well despite being such opposites. That still haunted him in his moments where he sat drowning himself in alcohol and then ended up crying on the table or on Alhaitham's chest, asking him if he was still worthy of his love and affection when he did nothing but cause him problems.
Then he thought about it. Was it really okay to stay here, with Alhaitham? Kaveh was in debt up to his neck and he had no idea when he would pay it off, because he no longer had anything to his name but his own life. His clients were picky and talked and demanded things that were impossible or too stupid for Kaveh's critical eye (or maybe he was the picky and stupid one, for not reluctantly accepting the project and earning a few bucks), so he never had enough bucks to pay for… Anything. The few coins he had left he used to buy a few fruits for the house, which was the cheapest thing he could afford and that made him feel very bad, he felt guilty and a burden. But could there be anything else he could do?
He allowed himself to look at his partner's broad back and thought that perhaps Alhaitham paid for everything because he had no other choice, perhaps he was already tired but he didn't let him see it so as not to subject Kaveh to more pressure and anguish that he was not yet willing to bear. Was that kind? He couldn't know unless he asked and he wouldn't ask. Even the scribe had insisted that he not pay the rent since they both clarified their feelings on a night when Kaveh was not so sober but not so drunk as not to consciously formulate how much he had longed for him in all those years.
He still remembered how Alhaitham looked at him almost without being disturbed. Then he smiled and hugged him. Silent, always silent, but it was enough to know that they were on the same wavelength, then Kaveh let himself be carried away and intoxicated by him. He was not an idiot, but his head was too clouded by alcohol, joy and sadness at the same time. A feeling as bittersweet as their own resonant personalities that somehow just worked and fit together.
Kaveh swallowed and clenched his fists, making sure his nails pressed into the palm of his hands. If it hurt, he wouldn't think anything stupid and he wouldn't cry either, right? But it was one thing to think it and another to actually work. His lip trembled in response and Kaveh bit it to still him. He refused to cry, to show weakness and preferred to save those moments for when he was completely drunk so he wouldn't remember anything the next day. But then, Alhaitham worried.
A fleeting memory flashed through him all at once as he stumbled home after having drunk like 3 bottles of wine at Lambad's. Which by the way, was probably all on Alhaitham's account and again, Kaveh felt guilty for making him bear those expenses. On his journey, he remembered coming across Alhaitham, who looked half worried and half angry, seemed upset and was lightly shaking Kaveh by the shoulders. The architect has no recollection of the specific words other than some very vague ones asking him not to leave the tavern if he was going to get drunk.
He knew then that he was definitely not on his way home and now the puzzle was starting to form as to why Alhaitham was upset. It made total sense. Going to the tavern for your loved one, not finding him and walking all the streets of Sumeru until you found him. They hugged after that and Kaveh apologized but that didn't stop him from feeling guilty again. He knew then that he was always causing trouble for Alhaitham.
If that was the case, why hadn't he left him yet? What was going on?
Kaveh looked at Alhaitham once more. He was chopping something on a cutting board, preparing dinner, probably. Always attentive, always kind and concerned about others, even though others saw him as arrogant and emotionless, but even though Kaveh wouldn't admit it out loud, he knew they were all wrong. No one understood him like he did and... What else? Was there anything good Kaveh had done for Alhaitham?
He went over a few things in his mind. The days at the Akademiya, both were brilliant, they complemented each other and Alhaitham didn't need help with anything in particular. Kaveh again ignored the fight, he didn't want to remember that. Then when Alhaitham took him into his house in exchange for nothing in particular. Kaveh insisted on the rent because he didn't want to be a burden. Alhaitham bought food, paid for the services, paid for the wine consumed at the tavern for Kaveh and occasionally gave him some supplies like brushes or pencils. Alhaitham encouraged Kaveh in his own way and pampered him. And Kaveh? Kaveh had only taken the first step to confess. Nothing more.
So he couldn't take it anymore. Holding back his tears had already become a difficult task when he had decided to stand there and watch Alhaitham in silence, thinking about how good for nothing he was and admiring how amazing the scribe was. He let his tears wander from his eyes and slide down his cheeks, ruining the little makeup he had on. His crying was silent, like any signal for help he had thrown into the air hoping someone would hunt him down, whoever, it didn't matter who.
Alhaitham was too good for him, and Kaveh was too little for Alhaitham. That was an undeniable fact.
Kaveh was going to go back to the studio, to drown in his misery until he fell asleep on the desk, staining the drawings he had made of his beloved with his anguish, sinking into a lethargy from which he did not want to wake up soon and, hopefully, after that, he would return to being his usual self. But, as always, everything that Kaveh plans has to turn out in a completely opposite way, because at that very moment Alhaitham turned around.
Their eyes briefly connected. A pleading reddish one stained with tears and a surprised green one full of concern.
Alhaitham took quick steps towards Kaveh but when the latter knew that he was approaching very quickly, he tended to do the first thing that came to mind. Run away. And he tried. He tried to run through the house until he locked himself in the studio but evidently, Alhaitham was faster and, even if he wasn't, he still had the power of his vision to teleport. Kaveh was obviously an idiot and he was going to prove it again right now.
The scribe hugged him and held him close to his chest as the poor architect writhed in his arms, struggling vaguely to escape from this confinement. But it was useless, Alhaitham was stronger, so Kaveh once again gave himself over to wherever the current wanted to take him.
His legs felt so heavy and tired that he let himself fall and Alhaitham joined him, leaving them both hugging each other on the floor. Kaveh sobbed on his partner's chest and he stroked his hair, rubbed his back gently and left small kisses on the top of his head. Kaveh knew he did this to calm him down and he appreciated it.
"You don't love me, do you?" he asked with a muffled and muffled voice as he let his hands cling to the scribe's shirt, as if this was the last time he could hold him in his arms before the grand finale that awaited him.
"What?" Alhaitham sounded puzzled, very much so. Oh okay, so this was some kind of discovery that Kaveh didn't have to know about yet. Wonderful.
Kaveh cried more. He clung harder. He stained Alhaitham's shirt with his tears and snot. Something else to add to that imaginary list of “things I can never do right.”
“Just say it. I’m not good at anything, right? So you hate me… That’s why you’re indifferent to me.”
Alhaitham’s hands tightened on Kaveh’s body that seemed to get smaller with every passing second. And at that, the architect already assumed the worst. He held on as if it were a lifeline, sobbed and repeated “forgive me” on repeat. What was he apologizing for? He didn’t really know, but it was something he needed to say. Later he might regret it and think about how ridiculous he was looking right now.
Alhaitham didn’t say anything and Kaveh didn’t know if that was a good or bad sign, but he was so confused, so weak and so broken, that thinking about something like that was hard for him. So they both stood there, submerged in an embrace on the floor as Kaveh crumbled and Alhaitham tried to pick up every single loose piece the architect was letting out.
“I’m sorry… I…” Kaveh hiccupped as he drew random patterns on the scribe’s chest. He didn’t have much of an idea what to say, his head was a complete mess.
“Kaveh,” the scribe called firmly but at the same time the concern could be felt in his tone of voice. The aforementioned swallowed with difficulty while still trying to calm himself down and sniffled. “I made you soup for dinner.”
Kaveh wrinkled his nose and sobbed again. Alhaitham continued.
“There was some yogurt at the bazaar so I bought some. And peaches.” Alhaitham’s hand tangled in Kaveh’s hair until he found the hair clips, where he gently removed them, leaving them to the side. It was more comfortable to dip his fingers in there this way.
Kaveh let him, as always. There was something about this man that always managed to persuade him and perhaps now it made sense for him to honor his darshan. However, he still wasn't getting the drift of the conversation as he was slowly recovering from his depressed mental state.
The younger boy grabbed his cheeks and forced the older boy to look at his face. The blond boy felt extremely unprotected like this, showing his red face full of tears, fearing the worst of the situation.
"I have you, Kaveh."
Alhaitham gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He pulled away to look at him as he brushed his bangs away from his face and gave him a kiss on the forehead. Then he let his lips run all over Kaveh's face, wiping away the trail of tears that still lingered there and again, the architect let himself be handled, let himself be pampered. In an attempt to feel him closer, he raised his own hands and brought them to Alhaitham's that were holding his cheeks and squeezed them gently. He didn't want to let go now or ever.
"Since the days at the Akademiya I've been in love with you, Kaveh. And every day that passes, I do more so," it was a whisper, almost as if the scribe felt sorry even though it wasn't the case, because that wouldn't be so like Alhaitham. Now, they were both looking into each other's eyes and had their hands intertwined, giving each other light squeezes. "If necessary, I'll pick up your broken glass and fix it, every day."
Kaveh was shocked and embarrassed at the same time. Because Alhaitham had always been there for him and had never abandoned him. He was just a loner who silently sought the company of the one person who never rejected him and always opened his heart to him. And Kaveh felt like a fool for thinking otherwise.
And again, he cried. But this time it wasn't from sadness, but quite the opposite, he was very happy. He didn't need anything more than to know that Alhaitham would always be there for him, that nothing Kaveh had thought of was of any importance to the other, because he did all of this out of genuine love for the architect and expected nothing in return, only to be accompanied by the person he had chosen to love. And that made Kaveh's heart fill with affection and he wanted to stay right here, in this place forever.
Kaveh let go of his hands, but threw himself on top of Alhaitham, wrapping his arms around his neck. The scribe didn't stay behind and pulled Kaveh towards him by the waist. They remained immersed in that silent but loving embrace. They would surely have dinner together, as always. They would take a shower together, as always. And they would sleep together, as always.
Always together.