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Alhaitham started to feel the emptiness in his chest when crimson flowers were pushed into his grasp. He now understood the symbolism of the petals that weeped over war and the injustice of fate, petals that once dripped with blood that barred the innocent from the eternal samsara of paradise.
The mourning flowers in his hand dipped from the weight of the water that caught between their petals, as if they were paying respects to his grandmother as well. It was raining on the day of her funeral. The noise-cancelling earpieces that she saved up to get custom-made fit snug over his small ears, yet he could still hear the rain hitting against the marble headstone. Around him were whispers of sympathy from other distant relatives and neighbors.
Alhaitham was only seven at the time, his mind had not yet fully grasped the concept of death and grief. But he could feel something missing, the lack of comfort that he usually felt when the two of them would be under the quilt that he loved so much, his constellation embroidered onto the blanket. They would be eating his version of sabz meat stew while she read him stories about the Aranara. But instead, his fingers are curled into his palm, nails digging into the soft meat as he bites the inside of his lip, trying desperately not to let out a sound. His mother's distant relatives murmur around him, exchanging hushed condolences. At the moment, he didn't care if his hair got soaked, if the carefully curated clothing to be comfortable at all times got wet and stuck to his skin in an uncomfortable way that made him want to claw it off.
He felt a tug at his sleeve, prompting him to look in the direction from which it came. A tiny green Aranara was pulling at his sleeve. Even though they had the same expression with star-shaped eyes and wide smiles, he could see the concern behind its eyes.
"And what's your name?" he whispered.
"Aralumi," it responded, jumping in glee from Alhaitham's acknowledgement, the yellow flower on its head twirling in delight. Alhaitham did not miss the foreign flower in its hand, an indigo stem with petals that seemed to burst into a rainbow of colors. Aralumi took his hand and guided Alhaitham forward, and together, they laid the flowers next to the grave.
"This is a Viparyas, silver-nara," Aralumi answered, seemingly reading Alhaitham's thoughts. It made eye contact with the silver-haired boy. Alhaitham was about to respond when he heard a step behind him. Aralumi jumped in shock and immediately burrowed into the ground, gone to Vanarana. Alhaitham turned to see who disrupted their conversation.
"I know this is hard for you Haitham," this distant uncle told him. His hands were clasped around Alhaitham's shoulders and he lowered the noise-cancelling earpieces from his ears. Don't touch me, Alhaitham thought, don't call me that nickname. He desperately wanted to swat away the unwanted gesture of comfort, but he bit his tongue and continued to look at the older man with a far away look in his eyes. Maybe this uncle mistook it as a signal that Alhaitham was about to cry, because his grip tightened on his shoulder and he leaned down to speak near Alhaitham's ear.
"Don't cry, boy. Real men don't," he hissed. He let go of Alhaitham's shoulder and his expression went from an unfamiliar stern look to a neutral facade. He brushed past Alhaitham to offer a bouquet of Sumeru Roses at the grave. The noise of the downpour and murmurs of the other participants were suddenly louder and more overwhelming than he anticipated without his earpieces on. He hadn't planned on crying, but suddenly, he was so aware of the stinging at the back of his eyes. He wills himself to numb away the burning in his eyes, swallowing the emotions before they could ever rise again.
The rest of the funeral was a blur. Alhaitham felt like he didn't have a moment to breathe until he was back under the comfort of the quilt, which was missing an entire person under the weight of the blanket. Vultur Volans, his constellation, stared back at him through the grasp of his hands on the blanket, silent and unrelenting of the duty and vigilance bestowed upon the bird. Alhaitham pulled out the familiar storybook from the bookshelf and buried himself in the quilt. When he opened the book, he saw a fresh Viparyas in between the pages, a spitting image of Aralumi in the vibrantly painted picture on the paper. Aralumi seemed to be reaching towards Alhaitham in the book, the indigo flower nestled perfectly on top of the Aranara's hand. He did not hesitate to go to the flower pot on the windowsill and place the flower into the pot. Some magic caused it to take root, and it seemed to glow under the moonlight.
His thoughts went back to the uncle who lectured him earlier. An ugly thought crossed his mind, Real men don't do girly things like plant flowers, but he quickly shook it off and buried himself deeper into the covers. For the first time in what he remembered, tears fell past his eyes and stained his pillow as he closed his eyes and cried himself to sleep.
---
It had been a few years after his grandmother passed away, but he still feels the bitter dregs of his loneliness. Even in the Akademiya, where the environment was supposed to be rigid and education-focused, Alhaitham found many boys his age taking their education with a grain of salt. He does not interact with them, preferring to keep his eyes on the book before him. He did not understand that these boys had their future in their hands, and they decided to throw it away. He was currently under a terrace in Razan Garden, the sturdy trunk of the tree that the Akademiya was supported behind his back. He donned his headphones, opting to drown out the laughter of the children around him with the noise-canceling function on them as well as a soft tune playing through the speakers.
He can see some rowdy boys come near him, and Alhaitham can predict exactly what they are about to say. He knows he's different. But he cannot help but let the words permeate through his headphones, and he can hear their jeering remarks as they rip the book from his hand and throw it to the floor. One of them forcibly tears the headphones from Alhaitham's hands and he reaches helplessly for them, but this boy is too tall for him to grasp his headphones.
He's too smart, too quiet, too reserved, too uninterested in their power struggles. He lets them shove him around, tease him mercilessly, provoke him, call him names, yet the instructors that are dotted around the garden watch without a word.
"What? You're just gonna stand there like a girl?" one of the boys taunts. Alhaitham takes this chance to scramble to the floor to pick up his discarded book. Of course, another takes this as a chance to shove him against the bark of the tree. Alhaitham does not react. It's not worth his time. He maintains the neutral face he always carries and doesn't make eye contact with any of the boys.
"C'mon, fight back like a real man," another says. To this, Alhaitham bites his lip and lowers his head more, but he still doesn't make eye contact. The eyes of that boy lit up in delight from the response he managed to knock out from Alhaitham. He nudges Alhaitham again.
"Seems like I found his weakness. Let's go, we're done here." He lets out a short laugh and claps his hand around his friend's shoulder as they saunter away. Finally, a professor comes to Alhaitham, picking up his headphones and putting them in Alhaitham's hands. The professor shakes his head and puts a hand on Alhaitham's shoulder. Again, Alhaitham doesn't make eye contact, that faraway look in his eyes again. No tears came out of his eyes. He's learned to school them into drying up before those emotions bubbled over. The hand on his shoulder feels uncomfortable. The professor begins to speak.
"You should fight back, boy. Real men fight back."
Alhaitham doesn't care about being a "real man," he cares about efficiency. Words are more effective than fists, they have a lasting impact. He never understood why people would always resort to violence. A few days later when the boys come back to tease him in the House of Daena, he dismantles their egos in five sentences or less, one for each boy. They don't bother him again.
When he's back in his room, he wraps his hand around his wrist and stares at it. The thumb and middle finger overlap significantly. He feels the ghost of a touch on his fingers, and he sees Aralumi peering up at him.
"Nara Haitham is very strong," Aralumi reassures. It lays another Viparyas in Alhaitham's hand and follows him as he plants it in the flower pot that still has the same flower blooming vibrantly.
"I know," Alhaitham says quietly, "But it feels like others don't think I am." The Aranara only looks at his eyes, then nuzzles into him mournfully before tucking him into his bed. It jumps under his covers and he lays his cheek onto the bright yellow flower on top of Aralumi's head. Silently, Alhaitham vows to hide himself from others, yet to have the presence of a quiet strength, like a real man should. Aralumi makes a soft noise, disturbing his thoughts and he's lulled to sleep with the gentle song of the Aranara.
---
Kaveh came into his life like a star falling from the heavens. His sunny blonde hair bounced effortlessly as he wrote with his teal quill he insisted on using and the Akademiya uniform fit him like a dream. The tinted lip gloss he wore with the Zaytun Peach scent was always dabbed on with perfection and the smallest amount of eyeshadow that shaded his eyes emphasized his ruby-like eyes. When he came up to Alhaitham for the first time, Alhaitham was immediately captured by his beauty, which rivaled that of the princes in the fairytales he heard or even the Archons. Kaveh seemed so carefree with the way he presented himself, not giving a care to the world despite others laughing at his usage of kohl. All Alhaitham cared about was the smile on Kaveh's face when he asked to sit at the same table with Alhaitham.
Alhaitham learns a lot about Kaveh. Kaveh is a dreamer, an artist who looks at society through rose-tinted glasses, a loud force of nature. Alhaitham doesn't mind. They complement each other so much that you could hear throughout the halls of the Akademiya that wherever the Light of Kshahrewar went, there was a silver moth following him, attracted to the light that he emitted. Alhaitham didn't want to admit that they were right. Kaveh seemed like everything he wasn't. Alhaitham wanted to learn from Kaveh. So much to the point where one day, he went up to Kaveh with a newly purchased applicator of kohl.
"Please teach me how to use kohl," he asked, two-toned eyes looking up at Kaveh's scarlet ones that had the smallest amount of highlighter in the inner corners on that day. Kaveh visibly brightened, and it seemed like his entire body glowed with excitement
"Oh, of course, Haitham! Come here, let me see your eye shape so I can help you," Kaveh exclaimed. He held Alhaitham's chin up with the lightest of touches and instructed him to close his eyes, which Alhaitham dutifully did. He felt the drag of the shadow on his eyelids along with the soft touch of Kaveh's fingers, despite how tightly Kaveh would occasionally grip his quill. When Kaveh's hands left Alhaitham's face and he was spun to look at the mirror, he opened his eyes to reveal shaded eyes, made more intimidating with the addition of the black that lined the top and bottom of his lashes. There was a touch of red on the outer corners of his eyes, emphasizing the inner color of his irises.
"Oh Alhaitham, you look beautiful," Kaveh said. Not beautiful, Alhaitham wanted to say, Handsome. But he didn't say it. Somehow, the familiar sting in his heart was gone when Kaveh called him beautiful. Do I still look like a man? Alhaitham thought, but just the sight of Kaveh smiling so, so brightly removed that horrible thought from his head.
He loved the new look so much that he wore it to his next class, his gaze sharpening like a falcon as he deciphered the ancient Deshretian text. He could see some girls next to him whispering with judging eyes. His noise-cancelling earpieces drowned their voices out. Alhaitham never bothered with them in the first place, but that didn't stop the clique from approaching him at the end of class.
"So Alhaitham, what's up with the new look?" one girl asked, twirling a strand of her blonde hair in her fingers while her friend giggled behind her back, whispering things into each other's friend's ears. Her hair wasn't as vibrant as Kaveh's and he could tell that her smile was a fake, sickly sweet grin. With the lack of response, she took that as an initiative to take Alhaitham's face into her hand and she smeared the kohl with her thumb, muddling red with black.
"You know, if you were a girl, I think you would look better with it smudged a little more out, but only if you were a girl! " she exclaimed, her sharp nails going to the other eye to ruin the meticulously drawn kohl, "But real men don't wear makeup. Just saying! " She laughed with that condescending tone of hers before leaving with her clique. Alhaitham looks at his reflection in a nearby mirror, and he thinks the winged kohl makes him look... he didn't dare to finish that thought. He hides his face in his hair as he makes his way back to the dorm, and Kaveh can only shout his name before he locks himself in their bathroom, looking for the cleansing oil that Kaveh usually uses at the end of the day to get rid of his stubborn mascara. When he comes out the door, he sees Kaveh looking up from his sketches with a concerned look on his face.
"What happened to your kohl?" Kaveh asked, eyebrows furrowing with worry. It seemed like Alhaitham loved the kohl and eyeshadow Kaveh put on him. What drove him to remove it so quickly after class?
"Can you help me do it again? Just not so winged this time. I need to look like a real man."
"..."
To that, Kaveh had no response, but he still took out the product to assist Alhaitham with the dark liner again. In the reflection of the mirror, he could see Aralumi peering from behind his bed, watching with its eyes as Kaveh instructed him now to apply the kohl. Alhaitham didn’t miss the way the flower on top of its head wilted a little.
---
Even as he's being dragged by Azar's guards, even as he's thrown into a locked room, even as he's taken out of said locked room, Alhaitham still wears his kohl and eyeshadow the exact way Kaveh taught him when he was younger. A long, slightly winged line on his top eyelid and the smallest amount on his waterline to sharpen his gaze with red eyeshadow dusted on the outer corners of his eyes. People had stopped commenting on his choices of appearance as Alhaitham grew older and took over the role of being Scribe of the Akademiya. However, he could sense that someone would notice the way the rebellion had messed up his kohl today.
Once he's settled into his temporarily new office, he goes back down the floating platform and instinctively heads towards the desk he always sat at during his Akademia days. He just wants to forget what happened when he spots Kaveh heading towards him. His hands already reach towards his noise-canceling earpieces to tune out Kaveh's voice.
"You did your kohl differently today!" Kaveh exclaims. That bright smile is on his face again, and Alhaitham really wants to smile along with Kaveh, but as he has been taught when he was younger, a real man should not show too much emotion. Alhaitham decided to ignore the comment on his kohl usage.
"Why are you here? I thought you, out of all people, would know what's been going on."
"I wouldn't be here if I knew! Just tell me what happened!"
Soon, the sounds of their bickering filled the House of Daena. Alhaitham could see Lumine and Paimon waiting patiently for their conversation to end, but despite that, some students who were still in the library whispered to each other, eyeing the two men who were going back and forth about Alhaitham's personality.
"I could never understand how those two manage to be friends. A real man doesn't let others step over him," he heard a student say, their friend giggling in response. He tore his gaze away from them and tried to focus on what Kaveh was saying while thinking of ways to respond to him. But, he didn't miss the bitter feeling in his heart when he heard those students gossiping about him. Once Kaveh ran off, Lumine and Paimon approached him, and Alhaitham used this moment to exhale all the tension within him before focusing on his next conversation. As the Traveller invites him to the festival, Alhaitham immediately thinks about how he will present himself. A real man must be presentable at all times. A real man must always be prepared. Alhaitham should probably buy something from Lambad's before showing up to the event. He momentarily thinks about redoing his eye makeup to make himself look like he's more normal, not with the kohl still smudged from earlier in the day.
During the small festival they hold in celebration, Alhaitham still stands to the side, opting to read his novel while Aralumi is sat at his feet, nibbling at a piece of baklava that Lumine offered to it. He finds it difficult to mingle with the rest of the crowd, with a tune being played somewhere in the crowd, merchants hawking their wares, and laughter coming from Cyno and Nilou as they engage in a heated battle of Genius Invokation TCG. He takes a bite of his panipuri out of politeness and meticulously wipes his hands before turning the page of his novel. Aralumi offers Alhaitham a piece of some rukkhashava mushroom from its Mushroom Hodgepodge and he takes it from Aralumi before Lumine speaks up to him.
"I thought you would find this event boring," she says, trying to avoid looking at Paimon, who has stuffed another piece of grilled meat into her mouth.
"Correct, I seldom attend events like this, but the atmosphere here is good," Alhaitham replies, lowering his headphones, "It's nice to have a change of atmosphere before I'm thrust into the position of the next sage," he adds softly. A weird emotion swims in Lumine's eyes. Don't look at me with those eyes, Alhaitham thinks, I don't need your pity. Next to him, Aralumi makes a sad sound and nuzzles against Alhaitham's leg, to which he absentmindedly pats the yellow flower on the top of its head to comfort the aranara. Lumine seemed to be waiting for him to say more, but Alhaitham chose to lose eye contact with her.
"Well, if you're going to be this way, let me just tell you this," Lumine says, "You don't need to prove yourself to others." And with that, she heads off to Dunyarzad and Dehya to make conversation with them. Even with the cheers of Nilou somehow winning over Cyno, Dehya's laughter, and Paimon eating the majority of the food he brought, Alhaitham somehow still felt alone.
---
Alhaitham still hears Lumine's words when the remaining sages and scholars push him to the role of Acting Grand Sage, just as he expected. He never wanted it, but the role was necessary. He wishes that he could voice his opinions, how he doesn't want this position, but the same voice echoes in his head. Real men take power, and a real man doesn't let others know his emotions. So, he just accepts the role with a thin smile and a nod, unaware of how much this would affect his life.
No longer is he allowed to work his usual schedule of arriving to work at 9 AM and leaving at 5 PM. Now, he's expected to come early to greet his co-workers while getting a "head start" to his day and work late into the night to complete work and prove that he is dedicated to his role. Half the time, he's not even doing his work, opting to read his novels to unwind from the pressure of his new job. How long until they would find another person worthy of this role? He was tired of not being able to sleep properly and getting overwhelmed everyday from the people who would ignore the do not disturb sign on his door, pestering him to accept their application, which would automatically make him reject their application. He was tired of being on the verge of a meltdown when he was forced to turn down his noise-cancelling on his earpieces during meetings where it would consist of the same two people arguing back and forth on a topic they disagreed on.
Most importantly, he was tired of the way Kaveh would look at him with his scarlet eyes filled with melancholy when Alhaitham inevitably stumbles home at 10 PM, and Alhaitham would immediately fall onto the divan with his head cradled in Kaveh's lap while Kaveh stroked his hair and massaged the knots out of Alhaitham's back. Kaveh would press a kiss or two on Alhaitham's cheeks and feed him some dinner, then he would lead him through his meticulous night routine before tucking him into his bed, and Alhaitham would reach for Kaveh to tug him under his quilt. Kaveh would then slip his hand under Alhaitham's shirt to rub his back comfortingly and use the other hand to massage his scalp while Alhaitham made soft noises and buried his face into Kaveh's chest. He shouldn't have to rely on Kaveh like this to sleep every night. A real man should be able to do things independently, but why did he always fall into Kaveh's arms every night?
When Alhaitham wakes up at 6:30 AM, Kaveh is still sleeping beside him, blonde eyelashes brushing against rosy cheeks and Alhaitham can't help but grip Kaveh tighter and tip his head up to flutter some kisses on his neck. Every time this routine happens without fail, the same thought swims in his mind as he begins brewing a mug of coffee for himself and Kaveh, a real man doesn't need to rely on others. We're not even lovers. Once that thought passes, he carries on with his day until he leaves the house one hour later, even opting to untangle his keys from Kaveh's before heading out the door, accompanied with a blonde eyebrow raised at his unusual activity of actually caring to take only his keys?
"There's something wrong with him," Kaveh mutters under his breath. It's always followed with a shrug and a turn on the heel to head towards the prepared cup of coffee.
For some reason, the Akademiya really wanted to agitate Alhaitham. He was hoping today would be a peaceful day, but no amount of encouragement from Aralumi who hops around his desk daily can prevent the migraine that always develops after three people have come into his office to demand answers from the Acting Grand Sage. He always provides them a vague answer before shooing them away, before they can continue to bombard him with arguments. Nearby, a scholar, older and more traditional, shakes his head. He strides towards Alhaitham and takes off his noise-cancelling earpieces, which Alhaitham was hoping for some silence after the previous student who had just come to annoy him. Please don't touch me, Alhaitham thinks, but he controls himself and forces his mouth to stay shut.
"Alhaitham, there's a reason why people do not like you," he begins, shaking his head once more, "Do not be passive. A real man takes control, makes people listen." At this point, Alhaitham gets even more irritated at this scholar who thinks he's helping but in reality, is making the situation worse and making his future interactions with others more irritable. But all Alhaitham can do is nod with his jaw clenched and slowly put his noise-cancelling earpieces on.
Control is a burden. Power is a weight. Alhaitham does not believe in using force to shape people into who he wants them to be. He wants people to think for themselves. Was it that hard of a concept for others to grasp? To that, he could still hear his grandmother's voice in his mind. Not everyone will think like you, Haitham. In this world, we all need to learn how to combine our thoughts to create the beautiful world we imagine. He remembered his younger self being frustrated that the rest of the world did not think the same way that he did, but as he grew older, he still had to restrain that part of himself and bite his tongue. So, he sank back into his chair with an impassive look on his face and began to file through some reports on application rates into the Vahumana darshan.
Once the clock hits 12:30 PM, right as Alhaitham reaches for his bag to grab his lunch, the door of his office slams open. He can't help but roll his eyes and turn down his noise-cancelling ever so slightly out of politeness. What he doesn't expect is to see Kaveh with an irritated look on his face, one of the red clips at the verge of falling out of his hair, and his face slightly red, likely from running to his office as his face is also accompanied with heavy breathing. Aralumi perks up in excitement and twirls around Kaveh, making overjoyed noises, which, unfortunately, Kaveh cannot hear, nor see in the first place. Alhaitham resists leaping out of his seat and engulfing Kaveh in an embrace.
"Did you even realize you left your lunch at home? And you're the one always scolding me for being irresponsible, maybe you should take your own words into mind!" Kaveh lectured with a huff, placing the warm pouch on his desk. Ah. So he even went through the trouble of heating up the meal. The slightest uptick of Alhaitham’s mouth bloomed on his face as Kaveh then began complaining about Alhaitham's books and how he left them strewn all over their living room, which is how he discovered Alhaitham's forgotten lunch that was set next to the divan that Alhaitham often sat on. A real man shouldn't need others to take care of him, Alhaitham thought, but his string of thought left as he continued to listen to Kaveh.
"Anyways... I also came here to check up on you," Kaveh said a bit bashfully, choosing to avoid eye contact with Alhaitham, "You've been looking stressed ever since you took on the role of Acting Grand Sage, so I wanted to give you a chance to express what's on your mind." To that, Alhaitham couldn't help but let the corners of his mouth quirk a bit more up ever so slightly. He reached to the top of Kaveh's head and avoided the red clips as he stroked Kaveh's hair gently.
"The Light of Kshahrewar, concerned about me? I’m impressed," he said with a teasing tone. Alhaitham's voice dipped to a more gentler tone, "I'm fine Kaveh, but thank you for your concern." There was doubt in Kaveh's eyes as his eyebrows furrowed together, his hands making their way to his hips and Kaveh raised an eyebrow.
"Are you sure about that?"
"Yes Kaveh, you don't have to look over me every single minute now." I shouldn't need you to look over me anyway, Alhaitham thought bitterly. Again with that skeptical look on Kaveh's face. The guilt began to accumulate in Alhaitham's throat. Ever since he took on the role of Acting Grand Sage, he noticed how Kaveh would clean up after the books sprawled around the house without a word, how he washed the dishes without complaining and went out to buy groceries more often, always making sure to buy the specific Fontainian brand that Alhaitham liked.
Yet, Alhaitham still hadn't done anything to give back to Kaveh. He would still greedily accept Kaveh's embrace once he came home, he allowed Kaveh to wash his hair, he let Kaveh press kisses to his eyelids when Alhaitham would still look at him while they were supposed to be sleeping. Even though Alhaitham was providing the majority of the money, he still felt like he wasn't giving enough. A real man needs to dedicate his everything to anything important in his life. Yes, the Akademiya was important, but Kaveh far surpassed the necessity of the Akademiya. He could never be enough for Kaveh, hiding his true emotions while Kaveh kept pouring and pouring his heart to Alhaitham.
---
It's been over three months since Alhaitham accepted the role, three months since Kaveh began treating him that way, three months since Alhaitham started to become confused about his relationship with Kaveh. Alhaitham is at their shared dining table, slowly spooning the biryani Kaveh made into his mouth. Somewhere on the divan, Kaveh is softly humming to a tune while working on some commission.
It's late. The city is quiet. Aralumi has buried itself somewhere in their garden to rest after flitting around Alhaitham and attempting to read his book all day. When Kaveh hears the clatter of the ceramic bowl in the sink, he looks up from his blueprints and beckons Alhaitham to join him on the divan, which Alhaitham does. He sits next to Kaveh, shoulders almost touching, and Kaveh takes his hand into the back of Alhaitham's head to gently guide him down to his lap. His noise-cancelling earpieces are removed, and he can hear the wind blowing outside their home along with the chirps of nature. Kaveh begins to run his fingers through Alhaitham's hair, when Alhaitham suddenly jerks his head to look up at Kaveh.
"Yes, Alhaitham?" Kaveh asks, unbothered by Alhaitham's sudden movement. His hand has adjusted its position so he can continue to stroke Alhaitham's head.
It's difficult for Alhaitham to bring to life the thoughts swimming in his head. The whole time he's been the Acting Grand Sage, there's always been people criticizing him. Of course, those around him have always judged him for the way he acted, his demeanor, the way he regarded the rest of the world, but why did the impact of their words decide to impact his life now? Kaveh seemed to understand the look in Alhaitham's eyes, and he responded to the silence Alhaitham gave him with a smile.
"Take your time, no one's going to rush you."
"..."
Again with the silence. Kaveh lets it stretch for as long as Alhaitham wants it to. Seconds feel like minutes. Then, Alhaitham speaks.
"Do you ever think about how you were raised?" This elicits a soft hum from Kaveh, and Alhaitham can practically hear Kaveh thinking of his experiences in his childhood.
"Sometimes. Why?"
A beat of hesitation. Alhaitham removes his gaze from Kaveh and looks at Kaveh's shirt instead. Kaveh seems to understand his hesitancy, and Alhaitham is dragged up to a sitting position with his legs draped on Kaveh's thighs. With an understanding and patient smile, Kaveh takes Alhaitham's hands and squeezes them assuringly.
"Go on," he whispers.
Alhaitham squeezes Kaveh's hands back before he responds.
"When I was younger, I was told that a real man should be composed. He shouldn't let others push him around." To this, Kaveh nodded encouragingly, offering him to continue.
"I couldn't cry. I have to be strong, and emotion was unnecessary. It makes you weak," Alhaitham continued, "That crying made you... less."
His voice hitched at the end of his sentence and he averted his gaze from Kaveh once again. He can feel the beginnings of tears forming, his mind panicking at the idea of someone seeing him in a vulnerable state. He blinked a few times, praying Kaveh wouldn’t notice.
"Who told you that?"
"Everyone," Alhaitham's fingers tightened around Kaveh's hands, knuckles turning white and painful from the tension, "You'd be surprised at how many people want to turn a child into someone they think is acceptable."
Kaveh is quiet for a moment, and Alhaitham is left holding his breath in anticipation of what the response would be. He can feel Kaveh’s hand trail back up his neck to his hair, where he strokes the silver strands to calm Alhaitham’s rapidly beating heart. Even as Alhaitham looks back at Kaveh, trying to prod an answer from him, Kaveh is still humming in thought, looking out the window and playing with Alhaitham’s hair. Then, Kaveh responds. Gently and firmly.
”You don’t have to be anyone’s idea of a ‘real man’, Haitham.”
That nickname again. Alhaitham can feel the tiniest amount of tears pricking in his eyes, which he responds by taking a deep breath and opening his eyes wider in hopes that they would dry up before Kaveh could see how weak he was. There’s something breaking in him, and he’s trying to hold it together with the iron composure he usually has. It’s failing miserably.
”So what am I supposed to be then?” Alhaitham says quietly, scared of breaking the sacred air around them. The hand in his hair leaves his scalp and Alhaitham could feel his heart shatter, longing for the ghost of Kaveh’s touch. Was this when Kaveh would finally get tired of him? Would he finally realize how much of a burden Alhaitham was? What he doesn’t expect is both of Kaveh’s hands finding their place on Alhaitham’s face, cupping his cheeks, thumbs already positioned to wipe away any tears.
“I need you to be yourself, Alhaitham. You can be hurt, you can be tired, you can cry, yell, or say you don’t know what to do,” Kaveh said, stroking Alhaitham’s cheeks. A small smile appeared on Kaveh’s lips when Alhaitham leaned into Kaveh’s warm touch, two-toned eyes looking up through eyelashes to meet Kaveh’s gaze.
”I don’t need a man who never bends. I need you.”
Finally, tears drop from Alhaitham’s eyes. He nuzzles into Kaveh’s palms more, earning a coo from the blonde man. Alhaitham can feel kisses being pressed onto his eyelids and one hand leaves his cheek to stroke his hair once more while the other gently lays him down on the divan. Alhaitham latches onto Kaveh and buries his face into the crook of Kaveh’s neck, softly gasping and making tiny noises, trying to formulate a coherent sentence to respond to Kaveh’s comfort. Kaveh responds with quiet shushing noises, encouraging Alhaitham to process his emotions.
It works. The tension in his shoulders melts a little and the storm that’s been raging in his chest dies down to a smaller stir in the back of his mind. So, he just allows Kaveh to hold him, allows himself to fall apart, allows Kaveh to hold onto the pieces. Not as a reminder that he’s broken, but to remind him that he’s never been broken.
After a few minutes of silence, which felt like hours to Alhaitham, he finally looked up from where he’d buried his face. Kaveh’s smiling at him again, one hand stroking his hair and the other making its way to his cheek to wipe away the streaks of tears.
”How do you feel?” Kaveh asked. Alhaitham leans against Kaveh’s palm and closes his eyes.
”Like I can breathe,” Alhaitham responds. Kaveh’s lips part, not responding right away. Instead, he tucks a strand of hair behind Alhaitham’s left ear, fingers lingering on his face.
”That’s good,” Kaveh says. Back to silence again. But this time, Kaveh’s eyes slowly trail from Alhaitham’s gaze to his lips. Then, as a touch of red reaches Alhaitham’s ears, Kaveh leans in and finally, their lips meet.
Alhaitham remembers reading romance novels in his Akademiya years out of curiosity but also yearning for something. He never understood how magical the simple act of kissing could be, how it was described to be as sweet as candy, how it felt like all your worries disappeared. But now he understood.
Carmine swirls with teal. Mourning flowers grow in the desert along sand grease pupa and it feels like the world has stopped bustling around them. Somewhere on the coffee table in front of the divan, their dendro visions glow and swell with color, and the elemental energies intertwine with each other. There’s a warmth and comfort in Alhaitham’s heart, similar to the time when he first saw the Vourukasha Oasis and the Pari that allowed him to see them, their bright bodies flashing between the large roots of the tree.
When Kaveh pulled away, Alhaitham noticed how his eyes were so dilated as he took in their disheveled looks with a small smile on his face, causing Alhaitham’s cheeks to be painted a light red. Kaveh’s mouth opened and his voice cracked out:
”How are we going to tell Tighnari and Cyno?”
To that, Alhaitham let out a rare chuckle, his mouth settling into a slight smile.
”Let them react however they want,” he responded, “No matter what, I can promise you I will always be here for you.” He took a deep breath, choosing to lose eye contact with Kaveh before he made his confession. “You are the only one that makes me feel complete.”
”Oh Haitham,” Kaveh swooned, “I never knew you had a romantic side.” The tips of Alhaitham’s ears burned at the statement.
”This is nothing like that foolish romance novel you made me read when we were in the Akademiya,” Alhaitham mumbled, before Kaveh took his face in his worn hands and brought their lips together in another kiss. Alhaitham could not resist melting into Kaveh’s grasp as the kisses began to trail from his lips down to his jaw, grazing his neck and pushing back his shirt to reach the collarbone…
“K-Kaveh,” Alhaitham managed to gasp out, a soft whimper building in his throat and he closed his eyes in a fleeting moment of pleasure before Kaveh pulled away. His bangs were pushed aside and a kiss was placed on each eyelid. Despite his new revelation, Alhaitham couldn’t help but feel a sting in his chest at the overwhelming amount of love he was receiving from this person who he felt like he didn’t deserve. Kaveh seemed to be able to read his body language when Alhaitham curled in on himself, trying to shy away from Kaveh’s consistent touches to his skin. Kaveh’s hands found Alhaitham’s, uncurling the fists to reveal divots of crescents on the meat of his palms.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t-” Alhaitham began, but was immediately shushed by Kaveh.
“These restrictions you’ve placed on your mind can’t be erased in one day, Alhaitham. It’s natural,” Kaveh said gently. A breath hitched in Alhaitham’s chest. For once, it was difficult to find the exact words for the emotions he was feeling. No word in the twenty languages he knew could describe the absolute fear he had for the future, how this change would affect the way people saw him. They would see his weaknesses, his faults, places they could chip away at him. He could feel the anxiety building in his chest. He wanted to make Kaveh proud of him, but how could the world accept the new Alhaitham when all they’ve tolerated so far is the distant, silent Alhaitham? The world began to blur again and he could feel a swing in his temples, an irritating pulse growing, squeezing on his… hands?
He was met with Kaveh’s concerned face once again, worry swirling in those wondrous eyes of his. Alhaitham responded to the squeezing of his hands by gripping Kaveh’s back, attempting to find his footing. Alhaitham exhaled a shaky breath, forcing his next words out.
“I want to try, for you.” To that, the pupils of Kaveh’s eyes expanded as the most brilliant smile grew on his face once more. His cheeks tinted red again.
“Good.”
---
And so, as Kaveh laid him down and slipped under his covers, Alhaitham wrapped his arms around Kaveh’s torso and tucked himself under his chin, inhaling the last remains of Kaveh’s perfume. His heart was still chipped, but there was now a warmth that was reinforcing it into something stronger. He could vaguely feel a kiss being placed at the top of his head and a sigh as the man above him curled in closer.
For once, Alhaitham didn’t feel ashamed for who he was.