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Summary
“So, what do you think?” Kaveh smiled as he laid out a blueprint on Al-Haitham’s desk.
“Why are you asking me?”
“Well, you’ve been ogling me for the past hour, so I thought you were interested.”
“I’m Haravatat. And your junior.”
“Well, that never stopped anyone, did it?” Kaveh asked, a bemused look on his face. Al-Haitham knew he was expecting kind words and unsure statements about a crudely crafted building on paper — maybe something to boost his ego.
Al-Haitham threw the words onto the paper and watched as Kaveh’s eyebrows climbed higher and higher on his face.
Once he was finished, Kaveh took a seat beside him and grabbed a pencil.
“What are you doing?”
He’d scoffed. “Clearly, you don’t understand a single thing about modern architecture, Haravatat. What’s your name?”
“Al-Haitham.”
“Hmph,” Kaveh had said, flexing his fingers, pencil hovering over the blueprint. “Pay attention. I’m going to show you why you’re wrong.”
Or: Kaveh and Al-Haitham, through the years.