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The letter came on one of the days where Kaveh was working from home, busy thinking up of a new project for a client. The soft knock on the wood of the entrance door sounded out, simultaneously serving as an announcement for Kaveh to take a short break and stretch out his legs.
He got up—ignoring the ache in his legs from sitting for too long— and stifled a yawn behind his hand as he went to open the door.
The mailman was quick, already off to another door, since all that greeted Kaveh was a singular letter, laying on the doormat. He picked it up and headed back inside, with intention to read it later.
Alhaitham got home at his normal clocking out hour, a little weary due to the amount of additional work he had to do that day, but thankfully, the weekend and the two free days off were smiling up at him from around the corner.
He slipped off his cape, hanging it on the rack, right beside Kaveh's shawl. Ah, right. Kaveh did tell him earlier during breakfast that he'd be working from home.
Rolling out his sore shoulders—probably from sitting hunched over the office desk for the whole day— he made his way to the living room, where he was greeted with the sight of Kaveh sitting at the table, reading something on a singular piece of paper. So occupied by the action that he hadn't noticed Alhaitham walking up behind his chair, placing gentle palms on the blonde's shoulders.
It startled the older, and a small smile bloomed on Alhaitham's lips because of it. "It's just me." He stood behind him, palms caressing the blonde's shoulders, one hand tenderly brushing the junction between his shoulder and neck. "How's the project? And what's this?"
The question had Kaveh tensing up beneath his palms, Alhaitham realised. He let his hands ground the blonde with their firmer touch, gentle fingers massaging out the knots in his tensed nape.
Kaveh sighed, settling the piece of paper down. Alhaitham wasn't nosy, so he didn't pry. He waited patiently, never wanting to push information out of the other. What they had was built on mutual patience and understanding, and that's how it worked out best for them.
"It's just— a letter." Alhaitham nodded, letting his body sag a little against the back of the architect's chair, his nose catching briefly the scent of the blonde's shampoo, making him close his eyes and bask in the soft scent. Home. "From Fontaine."
He didn't get to bask in the scent too long, his eyes opening in alarm. "Fontaine? Like a— like an arrangement for a project?"
The blonde exhaled shakily, leaning back into the chair, letting Alhaitham's arms embrace him fully. "From my mother."
Alhaitham mulled the words over in his head, before deciding on a course of action. "And? What did she write?"
"That she wants me to visit. Or more like— she's inviting me to visit her. Over this weekend. Just—" A hitch in his breath alerted Alhaitham, and in an instant, he moved from standing behind the blonde, to kneeling on the wooden floor beside him, taking his hands into his and staring up at him. "—Alhaitham, I don't know."
Alhaitham squeezed his hands, shaking his head. "Kaveh, look at me." Watery crimson met his teal eyes, and he reached up to brush a stray tear away with his thumb. "Don't force yourself. You don't owe her anything. Just do whatever feels right within you."
Kaveh sniffled, his hands trembling in Alhaitham's firm hold. "I know, I know, I just— I want to see her, you know? I want to meet her and talk to her after all these years, I'm just not sure of— how do I handle it? Will I be able handle it?"
Alhaitham never let his eyes stray from the blonde's face, watching with careful attentiveness. Although Kaveh was loud in his exclamations to the world, his personality warming like the sun onto anyone who stepped out into a patch of an unshaded terrace— he was also terribly, and utterly terrified of his own rays.
"Kaveh. You are the strongest person I know. You— what you went through, it was never meant to happen like that. Everything that transpired, shaped you into the person that you are today. Someone who— I'm sure of it— will be able to handle it, just like you did all those years ago."
Alhaitham squeezed Kaveh's palm three times, in time with his own breathing. It was their way of comforting each other, when sometimes words were just a little bit too much of a hassle.
"I— I want you to come with me. To Fontaine. Please?"
Alhaitham hated hearing the small, unsure voice on Kaveh. If he could, he'd tune the world out to only be able to hear one voice and one voice only, as loud as it could possibly be.
He nodded firmly without hesitating. "Of course. I'll always come with you."
The trip was enjoyable. Controversially.
Kaveh could even admit it himself— it was pleasant.
The whole journey lasted a couple of hours, their departure at dawn giving them the benefit of gaining more time to spend in Fontaine. Kaveh tried to think of it as a much needed, highly desired trip away from work related issues.
Key word— tried.
Because as much pleasurable the sun and the breeze of the ocean was on his skin— his insides were twisted, tugged at mercilessly by a surgeon who worked under the pseudonym guilt.
Because why else would his mother want to see him, if not for the reason to try and rekindle two broken walls of a loving home, which were barged into and robbed by grief? Just how much more guilt did she feel, or how much less, compared to him? Did she feel obligated to reach out to him and invite him? Or was it of her own pure heart that she decided to do so? How much of it was motivated by guilt, and how much of it came from the bubble of repressed love during his childhood, which suddenly burst like a late-blooming cherry tree?
"We're here." Alhaitham's voice shook him out from his thoughts, and they made their way off the ferry.
Kaveh's been pacing back and forth, Alhaitham's eyes on his form with worry. They booked themselves a small room in an inn to stay the one night they were visiting for, and ever since arriving, Kaveh was a quiet mess.
Alhaitham knew that Kaveh didn't want to show how torn he felt inside, but Alhaitham knew.
After all, he was the best at speaking the 'Kaveh' language.
"Are you leaving now?"
Kaveh stopped pacing, looked at him, and then started pacing again.
"Yeah. Five minutes. I'm thinking."
"I can see the gears turning and the smoke coming out of your ears from all the way here, Kaveh." He shut his book with an audible plop, before standing up and nearing the frantic architect. He stopped him with his own hands, reaching out and tugging at his waist, bringing him closer. Resting his forehead on the blonde's, "Close your eyes", he murmured.
Kaveh thankfully obliged, his own hands coming up and squeezing around Alhaitham's biceps.
"Now breathe, in and out with me." Alhaitham continued in a quiet murmur, slowing down his breathing to calm Kaveh's rapidly beating heart. "There you go. Better?"
Kaveh nodded, his eyes still closed as he exhaled slowly. "Better. Thank you."
Alhaitham opened his eyes, one palm going to the blonde's cheek. "Kaveh. Don't overthink yourself. Hear her out, and if at any time you feel uncomfortable, just send Mehrak to me and I'll be there in two seconds."
Kaveh's face broke out into a small smile, shaking his head at the scribe. "Be there in seconds? More like two hours, with your leisurely pace."
Alhaitham raised his brow at the teasing remark, matching the smile on Kaveh's lips. "You underestimate me. Clearly, you don't know my ways, Senior."
Warmth bloomed in his chest as Kaveh's warm laughter graced his ears.
He stopped in his tracks once he saw her. His eyes strayed from the man and the child walking away from her, focusing instead on her face.
Rooted on the spot, he stared at her from a distance. Their eyes met, and he dared not blink. Just in case.
His mind warred inside, make the first step, reach out, try and act normal—
She took the first step. Making slow steps towards him, and the closer she was, the smaller he felt.
"Kaveh." She smiled at him, her face tilted up a little— he was taller than her. It made him feel ridiculous. He's outgrown his own mother.
He nodded in greeting first, before he managed to find his voice. "Mother." He saw her wince at his voice, but he couldn't help it. He felt like a trembling leaf in the wind, hanging on for dear life onto a tree, trying desperately not to fall into the unknown beneath his own two feet.
"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
They decided on a stroll into the plains on the outskirts of the centre of Fontaine, somewhere quieter. They didn't speak, letting the wind fill in the silence between them. They observed the view from the plains, interested eyes straying to every ruined monument they passed on their way.
His mother tripped, and Kaveh reached out with panicked hands, catching her fall.
Always being the one to catch others, when they trip over their own legs.
That's how he was ever since growing up.
She accepted his helping hands, smiling at him politely. "Thank you."
He found himself smiling back at her, too.
It wasn't long before they started making slow talk. The polite exchange of sentences between them hooked just barely onto the emotional baggage they both carried on their backs.
But maybe barely was what they had. Barely.
The word, used in so many contexts, and somehow fitting just right into any situation in his life.
The word, balancing on a thin line between 'just' and 'almost'.
He just lost a family member. He almost lost his mother too.
He is just an architect. He could almost be the best one.
He just ripped a piece of paper apart. He almost lost the one person that truly saw him.
Barely— a word where one could say two tragic hypotheticals with the two compounds of the word, and create a harmony between them.
They just rekindled. They can almost try to force their relationship closer.
And that is why, maybe, it was better to leave their past on a 'barely.' To balance it with what they both have now, in the present.
Kaveh pointed to a monument in the distance, and his mother jumped into her story-telling with an even bigger smile on her face.
Even bigger, because— Kaveh was smiling, too.
Alhaitham found them sitting in a field, surrounded by the sunset's orange rays, chatting animatedly.
He set out on a walk himself, feeling too restless in his waiting.
But seeing Kaveh— seeing him and his mother together, both wearing relaxed smiles, their full-body laughter tousling the grass on which they were sitting— made the feeling of restlessness melt away.
Instead, he waited until they noticed him, waving him over with excited eyes.
He sat down beside them, adding his own two cents in their conversation about artistry and its meaning.
Kaveh was in the bathroom, finishing up on packing their toiletries when Faranak reached out over the table and hesitantly put her own hand over Alhaitham's. The latter raised his head up, meeting Faranak's sorrowful expression.
"Thank you for looking after him, Alhaitham."
The words she couldn't voice, Alhaitham discerned from her eyes.
"It is my pleasure to be doing so." He nodded at her, and accepted the squeeze of her palm.
She looked like she wanted to say more, but Kaveh's voice rang out through the room.
"Mom! I almost forgot, I brought some of your favourite candies from Sumeru!"
Faranak let go of Alhaitham's hand, getting up from her seat and following her son.
What they had was just a reconciliation. But it was almost a mending.
Barely a scratch of the burden they both carried within.