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The Desert of Hadramaveth was often spoken of yet infrequently explored. This was not without good reason. At its core, Mount Damavand glutted itself on coarse sand and the cries of foolhardy adventurers. However, Alhaitham did not set out with the intent to conquer Mount Damavand. His goal was far less ambitious; a simple trip to the hill south-west of Bayda Harbour to document a series of runes another member of the Haravatat had discovered around a month ago. While they placed protective wards around the cave the runes were found in, Alhaitham had been swiftly deployed to obtain copies of the runes, lest they get destroyed by a wayward beast of some kind.
It was supposed to be simple: spend a couple of days documenting the runes, gather rock samples for analysis, examine the cave and its surroundings then go home. Alhaitham made the journey over, documented the runes, took the samples and finished his exploration. There was even an abandoned hut at the foot of the hill that he was able to use as lodging for the duration of his stay. Thus far, everything had been going according to plan.
Naturally, said plan was derailed the moment he laid eyes on Candace, who was very much present at the bottom of the hill and very much not at Aaru Village, where he last saw her. “I need help,” she had spoken, too quick to be calm. One rapid-fire conversation later and Alhaitham was caught up to speed. The Jadeplume Terrorshroom had somehow managed to capture a member of Candace’s village. How on earth the villager made it all the way to the western reaches of Sumeru City was beyond Alhaitham, but he didn’t question it.
It took them several hours to defeat the Terrorshroom without risking the life of the captured villager. Because of the delicate nature of the endeavour, they couldn’t just kill the beast outright; they had to find a way to trap the monster, extract the villager then kill it. Trapping the Terrorshroom took up most of their time—given the beast’s capricious nature, even keeping it in one spot proved a challenge. Finally, just as the sun was setting, Alhaithma and Candace managed to free the villager. After that, it was short work to slay the Terrorshroom. Alhaitham split the spoils with Candace and, from there, departed.
Not five steps from the monster’s lair, however, did Candace retrace her steps and accost Alhaitham once more. “A short detour,” she had promised. Alhaitham had been a fool to entertain that idea. Several hours later, and they were well into the night with no sign of the beast Candace had asserted would be ‘an easy catch’. Beginning to grow irritable, Alhaitham decided to forge out alone and meet Candace at an agreed-upon location the next morning.
Of course, that was where everything went haywire.
By then, Alhaitham was already nearing the date he told the Akademiya he would be back in Sumeru City by. The trip to the hill where the runes were located took him a whole day of travel, and he stayed there for five days to ensure the runes were properly documented. He told the Akademiya a week and a half, to add buffer space for any monster attacks he might face, or civilian disputes he would need to mediate.
After fighting the Terrorshroom and following Candace around, Alhaitham was set back by another day. Given his proximity to Sumeru City, however, he could make it back within a day if he ran, and even less if he found someone willing to give him a ride. It was here where he made his fatal mistake.
After thinking about it for a while, Alhaitham made the decision not to send a missive indicating that he would be late. After all, he reasoned, why should he do that when he would only be late by about half a day? That would leave him enough time to return home and get scolded by Kaveh for nearly missing dinner. It wouldn’t be an amount of time significant enough to warrant a warning. Besides, Alhaitham liked to keep the Akademiya on their toes. He’d let them sit and wonder.
What a foolish decision that had been.
A Setekh Wenut. They were rarely sighted anywhere but the Wenut Tunnels, where their species lay in wait for naive travellers to stumble upon their lair. To see one by the Sands of Al-Azif—it wasn’t something most people would ever see in their lifetime. Naturally, it had to be Alhaitham who crossed paths with a stray Setekh Wenut as he was approaching the Dunes of Steel.
Caught unaware and already tired from his battle with the Jadeplume Terrorshroom, it was all Alhaitham could manage to roll out of the way before he was crushed by the sheer magnitude of the beast. Finally, his muscle memory kicked in, and Alhaitham started to make progress. There were only so many chances to strike the Setekh Wenut; for a being of its size, it was irritatingly deft.
The ridges on its back and the tremors of the sand underfoot helped Alhaitham to predict when it would burst out of the ground, the maw on its tail splitting into three. It was almost like a hideous lily in appearance. Alhaitham found himself focusing on the way its markings glowed with each howl it let loose.
Of course, his exhaustion eventually caught up with him.
All it took was one small slip up. Alhaitham, tired as he was, forgot that Setekh Wenuts could release a shock-beam from their tales. By the time he realised what it was gearing up for, it was already too late. The strike hit his side, and he flew across the dunes. Sand scorched his skin—here in the desert, the sun was unforgiving. With burns covering his skin and blood quickly seeping through what was left of his shirt, Alhaitham gathered up his remaining strength and ran.
Not known for its ability to give up, the Setekh Wenut followed him closely until he reached the northern tip of Qusayr Al-Inkhida’. Thankfully, however, it relented once Alhaitham veered west toward Mount Damavand. Evidently, even the beasts that roamed the desert were wary of the mountain. Not without good reason, Alhaitham had thought to himself ruefully. As one enemy abated, another slunk over to take its place.
Eremites would not normally pose a threat to Alhaitham. Contrary to the weak, battle-resistant character he liked to play, Alhaitham knew his way around a sword. Normally, he would be able to take on three, four—even five Eremites by himself. Injured? That was a whole different playing field. A playing field he now had to contend with.
They seemed to appear out of thin air. Two of them—a Scorching Loremaster and a Floral Ring-Dancer—closed in on him, their eyes hidden beneath the red silk covering that denoted their allegiance with the Eremite faction. As the loremaster began to glow red, her partner picked up the metal ring she was holding and swung it around her wrist. Not a second later, green ridges formed on the outermost edge of her weapon.
Fighting opponents that used Dendro was the worst. It always struck Alhaitham how an element that was so familiar and comfortable to him could also be used to harm him. Seeing the small bursts of Dendro that flew out from her attacks just made him grit his teeth and pour even more energy into dodging. Amused by his efforts, the loremaster let out a bone-chilling cackle and raised her hand to the sky.
Bolts of fire rained down on him. A scream ripped itself from Alhaitham’s mouth, curdling the air with the pitiful stench of fear. He knew that sand was flying through the air, likely settling in his wounds and infecting his flesh with the various diseases carried through the desert biome. Before he could even process that notion, the loremaster redoubled her efforts. A searing glare blinded Alhaitham momentarily—but a moment was all it took. With a cry of glee, the ring-dancer spun in place and launched her weapon at Alhaitham.
There was only so much his body could handle. After being mauled by the Wenut, running for several hours, then being ambushed by the Eremite fighters, Alhaitham could feel himself losing his grip on consciousness. He tried to fight it, but it was no use. As his vision blurred, Alhaitham’s last thought was, I should have sent that message.
Alhaitham surprised himself by waking up.
Unprecedented, he frowned to himself, his eyes still closed, that I should have survived such an ordeal. After spending a moment thanking Lesser Lord Kusanali for his survival, Alhaitham became slightly more aware of his surroundings. The first thing he was able to surmise was that he was definitely inside. He no longer felt the vicious Desert of Hadramaveth wind, and he was lying on a bed, not a sand dune.
The second was a voice. A very, very familiar voice.
“... still hasn’t woken up… Zakariya told… —on’t know what to do…”
Kaveh? Alhaitham wondered. I am back in Sumeru City, then. Alhaitham didn’t know how he had returned, and he wasn’t keen to linger on the puzzle lest he use too much brain power trying to figure it all out. Nose twitching, he made an attempt to open his eyes. As soon as he tried, however, his entire body seemed to protest. Frustrated, Alhaitham stopped trying to open his eyes and decided to take the next most logical course of action: sleep. Perhaps, after he slept for a while longer, his body would have recouped enough energy to allow him to open his eyes.
With his mind made up, Alhaitham did his best to remove the tension in his neck and willed himself to sleep once more
This time, he was awoken not of his own accord but because a loud crash sounded. Jolted from his sleep, Alhaitham bit down on the inside of his cheek as his wounds protested. Not a moment later, colourful swearing filled the room as Kaveh presumably cleaned up after himself. This time, when Alhaitham tried opening his eyes, they opened without protest.
His guess was correct, then. Above him was the all-too-familiar roof of his house. After examining the ceiling for a while, Alhaitham determined that he was lying on a bed in the main receiving room. This was odd, namely because Alhaitham’s receiving room didn’t have a bed in it. Did Kaveh move my bed from my bedroom? Alhaitham quickly dismissed that idea; after all, Kaveh could barely lift his claymore. A bed was far heavier than a claymore.
Still, whatever he was lying on was decidedly too comfortable to be one of his couches. Someone must’ve helped him, Alhaitham concluded, blinking again. It was taking him a while to get used to seeing things again. He had no idea how long he had been asleep for—just that it must have been a while, given how weak he felt. He normally managed to avoid getting sick, so being bedridden was a rarity for him.
The sun from a nearby window was warm on his skin. Alhaitham swallowed, noticing for the first time that his throat was dry and in much need of a drink. Since he wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to speak properly, and Alhaitham didn’t want to embarrass himself by making a stupid noise, he instead felt around his person for something small he could lob at Kaveh to get his attention.
While he searched, Alhaitham continued to become more aware of his surroundings. As he rummaged through the pocket of his sleeping pants, (and when did he get the chance to change out of his travel clothes? Did Kaveh help him change, too?) Alhaitham noticed a familiar smell drifting through the house.
Is that… ? Alhaitham sniffed as surreptitiously as he could, hoping not to alert Kaveh just yet. He had an inkling of what the dish might be, but he wanted to be certain before he made the other man aware of his wakefulness. Luckily for Alhaitham, Kaveh did all the work for him.
“Argh, this really isn’t turning out the way I hoped it would,” Kaveh grumbled, the familiar tone of slight irritation tingeing his words. Alhaitham found himself grinning slightly. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed hearing Kaveh’s voice while he was away. The thought gave him pause.
It wasn’t like Alhaitham was oblivious as to where his feelings regarding Kaveh had been headed for months. He knew all too well that he was, for lack of a better way to put it, ‘in love’ with Kaveh. ‘In love’ didn’t quite cut it, however. Alhaitham’s feelings toward Kaveh were far more complicated than the sentiment conveyed by a frivolous label like ‘love’. Being in love is a fleeting state of being, Alhaitham mused, finally locating a stray piece of mora in his left pocket.
I am not in love, he determined, carefully inching his hand out from underneath the blankets. Rolling onto his side was slightly more difficult; Alhaitham had to hold back a groan as his limbs protested at the unexpected movement. After taking a moment to collect himself, he pulled his arm back and aimed at Kaveh’s back.
I’m not in love—I’m committed to this man for the rest of my life, Alhaitham thought simply. Then, he threw the mora coin. It hit the target—Kaveh’s back—neatly, causing his roommate to yelp and swivel around, eyes wide in disbelief. “Alhaitham?” Before Alhaitham could open his mouth to reply, Kaveh dropped the wooden spatula he was holding and practically flew over to his side.
“Alhaitham,” Kaveh breathed, his tone uneven, and Alhaitham felt his pulse rabbit in his chest when he saw how moist Kaveh’s eyes were. “Oh, Alhaitham,” Kaveh trembled, blinking rapidly. A tear, crystalline in the sunlight that streamed in from the livingroom window, tracked down Kaveh’s blotchy red cheek.
Alhaitham was too stunned to move, let alone speak.
Tears? Why is he crying? Kaveh picked up Alhaitham’s hand, the one he used to throw the mora, and clutched it to his chest. Moisture dampened Alhaitham’s skin as Kaveh continued to shake silently, his sobs caught in his throat before they could become full-bodied. Lost, Alhaitham gave Kaveh’s hand a squeeze.
Sometimes, their house felt too small. There were only so many rooms, which meant there were only so many spaces in which Alhaitham could hole himself up in before the sound of Kaveh’s screeching inevitably reached him. When the outdoors got to be too much for him, Alhaitham liked to disappear into his study and spend some time decompressing. Now that Kaveh was living with him, however, they shared the study space. Out of all the rooms, Alhaitham’s bedroom was really the only place he could truly call his own space.
Right now, though? The house felt larger than it ever had. It was as if Alhaitham was at the bottom of a gaping chasm, Kaveh clinging to him like he was a lifeline. “I would never have forgiven myself,” Kaveh cried, the tears flowing afresh. He hiccuped, his nose ruddy from all the crying. Kaveh’s shoulders sagged, his forehead giving a dull thud as he rested it on Alhaitham’s chest. “I would never have forgiven myself if you died,” he sobbed.
It was with a cold sense of clarity that Alhaitham remembered a conversation they shared right before he agreed to the trip.
“Southwest of Bayda Harbour? You should go. Make sure you pick up some Fontinian delicacies for me!” Kaveh grinned. As was his habit, Alhaitham scowled.
“And why should I go, just to waste yet more of my funds on you, a freeloader?” At his words, Kaveh bristled.
“Calling me a freeloader when I offered to pay rent using my latest commission seems a bit hypocritical, wouldn’t you agree, o great Scribe of the Akademiya?”
Alhaitham huffed. “Then you’d have to choose between your wine or your rent, idiot.”
“Hmph! See if I ever get you anything on my trips, then,” Kaveh threatened. They both knew it was an empty threat. Kaveh was too entranced by the various trinkets he spotted when he visited other regions, classing his purchases as ‘necassary cultural expenditures’ whenever he spent too much. Besides, Alhaitham was well aware that he would happily pay for anything Kaveh desired, if only he voiced those desires. Already, he was planning which vendor to visit in Bayda Harbour.
The air felt viscous, like a vat of lard. Alhaitham could barely breathe. He couldn’t be… not over something as trivial as that… “Kaveh,” he spoke up, internally cringing at how coarse his voice sounded. At his name, Kaveh made a pitiful noise and clung onto Alhaitham all the tighter.
“It’s my fault,” Kaveh gasped, pressing his eyes into Alhaitham’s sleeping shirt. He knew that when his roommate pulled back, there would be two large stains on his front. Alhaitham couldn’t care less.
“Kaveh,” he repeated, more urgently this time. “Look up.”
“I can’t,” Kaveh sobbed, “I can’t—”
“You can,” Alhaitham interrupted, reaching up with his free hand. Gently, he placed it on top of Kaveh’s head and stroked his hair. It was matted; something rare. Kaveh normally took excellent care of his personal hygiene and appearance. Frowning, Alhaitham tucked a lock of blond hair behind Kaveh’s ear and cupped his jaw. “Kaveh.”
Shaking like a newborn foal, Kaveh pulled back enough for Alhaitham to meet his gaze. As soon as he did, Kaveh’s eyes welled up with tears all over again. “Alhaitham,” Kaveh wept, hitting Alhaitham’s chest. It was so weak that Alhaitham barely registered it.
“It wasn’t your fault, Kaveh.” They both knew his injuries were only part of what Alhaitham was referring to. The blanket shifted as Alhaitham adjusted himself so that he was properly facing Kaveh. Quickly, deft hands moved to place an extra pillow behind Alhaitham’s back. It’s the little things that he does, Alhaitham thought helplessly.
They sat in silence for a while. Not used to comforting people, let alone Kaveh, Alhaitham was busy trying to come up with something to say. Kaveh continued to sniffle, his fingers still clinging onto Alhaitham’s shirt and blanket. Eventually, Alhaitham grabbed one of Kaveh’s hands again and pressed a thumb to his friend’s palm. “Was anything salvageable? From my satchel,” Alhaitham clarified.
Kaveh lowered his head. It made the pieces of hair that framed his face sway gently—a sight that was unbearably cute. Alhaitham took a moment to compose himself before speaking up again. “Did it get lost—”
“No. I’ll—I’ll get it,” Kaveh mumbled, standing up without warning. Blinking, Alhaitham watched as he tottered out of the living room and toward the direction of the main bedroom. After a moment or two, Kaveh returned, Alhaitham’s tattered satchel in hand. It looked worse for the wear, the strap covered in scratch marks and bits of sand. The cover flap had a dubious stain on it; with a start, Alhaitham realised it was probably his blood.
Kaveh trudged over and sat down on the bed. When Alhaitham tried to make more room for him, Kaveh put a hand on his side. “Don’t move. You’ll jar your injuries,” he muttered, placing the bag within reaching distance of Alhaitham. A beat passed.
“Fine,” Alhaitham agreed, without heat. After glancing at Kaveh, he turned his attention to the satchel. It didn’t look like it had been opened; the knot Alhaitham normally tied was still in place. Kaveh always complained about how finicky his knots were—not that Kaveh’s were much better. Whereas Alhaitham prized secure, failsafe knots, Kaveh took great joy in tying intricate, beautiful patterns (that often came undone at the slightest nudge).
Alhaitham tugged at the knot until it loosened, and opened his satchel. Sure enough, his worst fears were confirmed. The Beryl Conch he procured from a vendor at Bayda Harbour had completely shattered, its pieces covered in the red-brown tinge of his dried blood. And to think I spent at least an hour bargaining with the vendor, Alhaitham frowned.
He picked up one of the larger pieces. It was no use. Even the bigger pieces were already quite small. Repairing the conch would be impossible. “Well,” Alhaitham sighed, “it seems as if I have the answer to my question.” Next to him, Kaveh stiffened.
“What’s this?” he breathed, taking the piece from Alhaitham’s outstretched hand.
“A Beryl Conch—or what’s left of one, anyway,” Alhaitham scowled. “It must have shattered while I was dealing with those Eremites.” He poured out the contents of his satchel onto the bed. Several pieces of conch fell out, alongside his field notes, a couple of drawings and—
“Oh,” Kaveh inhaled, picking up the sheaf of paper. With a start, Alhaitham realised what he was looking at, but it was too late to take it back now. “Is this—is this me?” Kaveh asked, disbelieving. Unable to respond verbally, Alhaitham nodded.
While doing field work, Alhaitham occasionally got bored of copying down the complex runes. To take his mind off the tedium of his work, Alhaitham liked to draw other things that came to mind. Saurians he’d seen in a textbook once. Sweet flowers that dotted the hills near Sumeru City. The hubbub of Treasure Street.
Kaveh.
Unfortunately for him, it was just his luck that Kaveh managed to pick up the only sketch Alhaitham did of him. It was the sketch he spent the most time on; capturing Kaveh’s subtle expressions was difficult. Unlike Kaveh, Alhaitham wasn’t an artist by trade. It was merely a skill he needed to utilise for work. That meant he wasn’t experienced in drawing non-academic sketches. Thus, his sketches of Kaveh tended to come out far too clinical.
Not without some amount of embarrassment, Alhaitham recalled that, for this particular sketch, he spent at least an hour just working on Kaveh’s face. By the time he realised how much time had passed, the sun was already beginning to set. After that, Alhaitham went through the various ordeals that led to him being in this position, so it wasn’t a surprise that he forgot about the sketch entirely.
“You can keep it,” Alhaitham uttered, pushing the paper toward Kaveh’s chest. “I drew it without your permission, after all.” Eyes wide, Kaveh took the sketch without a word. They continued looking at each other in silence, Kaveh slowly going red the longer Alhaitham stared at him. Funny. Like this, I can almost pretend that he returns my affections, Alhaitham mused.
As they gazed at each other, a strange smell drifted through the house. Frowning, Alhaitham gave the air a sniff. How odd. It smells like something is… burning.
“Crap! The food!” Like someone had lit his ass on fire, Kaveh sprung up and made a dash for the kitchen. Moments later, he returned, his face rather pale. “There goes my grand plan,” Kaveh moped, plopping back down on the bed.
“Knowing you, the food burning was the least of your worries,” Alhaitham said wryly. “What were you planning? A meringue-version of the Palace of Alcazarzaray?”
Kaveh pouted, his expression downcast. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he huffed, turning away from Alhaitham. “I had no idea when you’d wake up, so I decided to cook some extra food, just in case! Who knew that it’d turn out like this, though…”
While Kaveh continued to drown in self-pity, Alhaitham set about attempting to sit up. As soon as Kaveh noticed what he was trying to do, a firm hand planted itself on his chest. “Oh no, you don’t,” Kaveh snarled, pushing Alhaitham firmly back onto the bed. “I asked Zakariya and Tighnari, and they both instructed me to keep you on bed rest for at least two weeks!”
“How long has it been?” Alhaitham shot back. “Surely I didn’t break anything, if I can roll onto my side.”
Kaveh stammered. “W-Well, that’s not your area of expertise, last I checked! Switching to the Amurta instead of the Haravatat, are you?” With an amused snort, Alhaitham rested his hands atop his chest and looked at Kaveh.
“If you won’t let me get up to assist you with whatever you’re making, the least you could do is tell me what it is. Hmm?” At Alhaitham’s probing, Kaveh’s face became an attractive pink colour, and his shoulders started to climb up towards his ears.
It was obvious he was stalling for time. “It failed, anyway, so there’s no point in telling you now,” Kaveh tried. Alhaitham shook his head.
“It’s my kitchen you’re using,” Alhaitham pushed back. “Surely I have the right to know what you’re using it for.”
Kaveh exploded. “Fine! I was—I was making Ideal Circumstance, but the meat was too tough, and by the time I tried sauteeing the vegetables, the pan had a layer of char on it so they ended up tasting really bad, so then I tried—”
“Kaveh.”
“—to sautee a new batch, but they took too long to cook so I upped the heat but then that meant that I burnt them yet again, so I—”
“Kaveh.”
“—had to run out to buy some more, but the vendor was out of onions, so I thought about substituting them with mushrooms or something, and I know that’s not how cooking works, but—”
“Kaveh!” Exasperated, Alhaitham covered Kaveh’s mouth with a hand. “Stop spiralling! Go and get your Ideal Circumstance!” he barked. Shocked into a stupor, Kaveh did as he was told. Moments later, he sat down next to Alhaitham holding what had to be the sorriest plate of food Alhaitham had ever seen. As described, it was burnt to a crisp at the edges. Some of the vegetables were a concerning brown colour, and one of the chunks of beef was far too large to be fully cooked-through.
Well, Alhaitham thought to himself, out of all the meats Kaveh could have chosen, beef poses the lowest risk of food-borne illness. Therefore, I’ll likely be fine if I take a bite. With his mind made up, Alhaitham grabbed the edge of Kaveh’s Ideal Circumstance, leant down and bit off a piece. Kaveh jolted. “Alhaitham! Don’t eat it—it might make your condition worse!”
Amused, Alhaitham continued to chew, making sure he maintained eye-contact with Kaveh as he did so. The longer he stared, the redder Kaveh turned. Eventually, Kaveh broke his gaze and looked down at his lap. “Don’t force yourself,” he muttered, trying to pull the plate away.
“Don’t take it away,” Alhaitham shot back, tugging the plate back toward himself. Sure enough, the larger piece of meat was still pink in the middle. Still safe to eat, Alhaitham nodded, and wolfed it down. “You made it using my ingredients, so I need to make sure I get my mora’s worth.” At that, Kaveh bristled.
“Your ingredients—I went out to purchase them myself, with my own mora!” Alhaitham paused. His own mora? But the only source of income Kaveh has had recently is that side project with Lambad’s Tavern… At once, it hit him. Alhaitham recalled how, prior to his trip, Kaveh had been bragging about his latest odd-job.
“It’s a new interior design for one of the alcoves in Lambad’s; they want me to redo it, because it suffered from rain damage and the original designer no longer lives in Sumeru City. What luck! Now I’ll finally be able to treat myself to that baklava from Puspa Cafe…”
The only mora he owns is from that job. That means—
Alhaitham found his chest tightening. Uncomfortable, he hunched over. All of a sudden, his breathing sounded more noticeable. His hair was touching his ears in a way that was irritating enough to notice but not bothersome enough to fix. Taking a moment to collect himself, Alhaitham shut his eyes.
“Alhaitham?” God, why does he sound so worried? Frustrated at himself, Alhaitham opened his eyes and turned to Kaveh.
“Do you want baklava?” Kaveh’s surprise was evident by the way his back went ramrod-straight. They stared at each other for a moment, Alhaitham’s gaze soft with an emotion he wasn’t quite ready to name, Kaveh’s eyes slightly wet with shock.
“Baklava? What makes you say that?” Kaveh wondered aloud. Huffing, Alhaitham reached up to gently pat the side of Kaveh’s face.
“You spent your mora on me. I want to return the favour,” Alhaitham said simply. At his words, Kaveh’s face went bright-red. He looks like a Jueyun Chilli, Alhaitham noted, amused. Before Kaveh could get too in-his-head about Alhaitham’s words, he pulled him closer. Like this, so close to Kaveh’s face, Alhaitham could make out each individual lash as Kaveh’s eyelashes fluttered.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham murmured, slipping a finger inside of Kaveh’s glove. He watched as Kaveh shivered at his touch. Some day… once I have recovered, I will bed him as he deserves. Today, however—Alhaitham grinned and cupped the back of Kaveh’s head. Carefully, he pulled it toward his chest, leaving ample time for Kaveh to pull away, should he wish.
Kaveh did not pull away.
“Alhaitham? W-what is—what are you—”
“Thank you,” Alhaitham whispered. “It was very good. The food.”
“Don’t make such blatant lies!” came Kaveh’s muffled voice. Pleased, Alhaitham kissed the top of Kaveh’s head.
“Not a lie,” he countered, monitoring how Kaveh had gone still. Did he not like that? Alhaitham worried, feeling himself start to frown. Moments later, Kaveh pulled back enough to look up at Alhaitham’s face.
“Why—why did you do that?” His tone wasn’t angry; on the contrary, Kaveh seemed hopeful. Staring up at him, Kaveh was a picture of beauty. He had always been beautiful, but something about the late afternoon haze made him more stunning than ever. Alhaitham felt that, if he were to look away, Kaveh would blink out of existence, as if he had never existed in the first place.
“Do what?” Alhaitham hummed. He knew very well what Kaveh was referring to, but he wanted to see if his roommate would say it explicitly or not.
“Why did you kiss my head?” Kaveh exploded, his eyebrows downturned. Sensing that he had gone slightly too far, Alhaitham ducked his head and kissed Kaveh’s cheek.
“Because I wanted to. Because I love you,” Alhaitham said simply. Kaveh went still, like someone had petrified him into a statue.
“You—?” Seemingly overwhelmed, Kaveh curled into Alhaitham’s chest and clung to his arm.
“I do. I love you,” Alhaitham nodded, squeezing Kaveh close. Closer, closer—I want him to be near me always, Alhaitham thought. It came as a surprise, how strong his emotions were. Normally, Alhaitham would flag that as a weakness. Strong emotions begot poor decision making. As far as Kaveh was concerned, though… Alhaitham knew—had known from the beginning—that Kaveh would always be his exception.
Maybe it’s okay to express things, if it’s Kaveh.
Smiling softly, Alhaitham carded a hand through Kaveh’s messy locks and pressed another kiss to the top of his head. As they sat together, the warmth of Kaveh’s back soothing Alhaitham’s aching chest, Kaveh spoke up.
“I love you, too.”
As if I need a healer, when he’s right here, Alhaitham thought, overcome with emotion. He buried his face in Kaveh’s hair and inhaled deeply. This man… is truly my everything.