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Alhaitham sees his life as nothing eventful, he is quite content with it. He enjoys it. He makes good money, a good job. And is respected. He seeks knowledge but has the patience and self control to resist any too dangerous
What else could a scholar want in their life?
People may look at him in envy, disdain, a color of emotions to him, but they are not him, he feels no need to be affected by their empty and shallow words.
But that does not mean he enjoys it, outside of his friend circle, he doesn't know anyone. That's not what's bothering him.
Maybe it is human nature to do so, sometimes, rare moments when he finds himself thinking-
"What if I had a family?"
"What if I had more friends?"
The one thing that ties his only friends together is Kaveh. His senior, he is the one who is best friends with Tighnari, through Tighnari we get Cyno and Nilou Sethos.
Kaveh is the only tie, if anything were to happen to him, he is sure that gradually, they would leave him too.
He had family, his grandmother, but that's just about it,
that's all. His father, whom he doesn't even know the name of, died to Eleazar, his mother died in childbirth.
His grandfather was dead, his immediate family and most aunts and uncles died of Eleazar as well.
Infact, he should just be happy to be here, his grandmother told him that his mother was told constantly to get rid of him, that he may have Eleazar, but his mother had been sick all life, she wanted a family. She lost her husband and now was told to lose her child
When his mother was told that he was perfectly healthy, she was overjoyed, and minutes later, she died.
He wouldn't call himself lonely, he simply prefers to not be bothered, it is simply the lack of family. He has friends, but all of them were mutuals, at least, that's how he thought he saw them.
He has made with peace with it.
It ran in his blood to lose people, he knows his thoughts are sentimental, they are nothing like him.
They are the thoughts of an Alhaitham who was once six, crying silently in his room over the death of his grandfather.
His grandmother had told him that everyone will die, that some will die unexpectedly, that he should mourn them, but he shouldn't let that hold him back.
He never has.
Perhaps that is why he is called a robot , a mindless thing.
He sees things as they are, ever since he was taught at a young age that lies, shall always be lies, that he shouldn't blur the reality to fit what he wanted to see.
Why is it such a problem?
Well, he doesn't have time to contemplate on that, he's hunched over a piece of blank paper, holding a quill with dripping ink
Damn it.
He needs to get a new sheet, get a hold of youself Alhaitham!
He just has to make a record of some god forsaken sage meeting another god forsaken sage.
He is as you can say 'pissed' at himself.
Well, he'll give that sheet to kaveh, maybe he can do something with a sheet that has a half paragraph and a humongous ink stain on it.
As he writes, he feels his thoughts fly away from him, lose touch. His mind drifts once more, half focused on writing and the other half thinking.
About what? He doesn't actually know. He went from recalling the time he swung on a tree branch as a five year old to imitate a monkey to his taxes.
He hates those, he can pay them, for sure, he just finds inflation absurd, he imagines Kaveh would be a corpse now, if not for his generosity.
Ah right, him.
Sometimes he forgets he doesn't live alone, at least not anymore.
His and Kaveh's falling out was severe, he is aware, but he still believes he was right and no one(maybe Kaveh) could convince him.
When he found Kaveh at Lambad's, he thought it was a surprising reunion, he doesn't know why, but he felt that their falling out was it. It was the end, of their friendship.
He took him in, partially out of respect for his senior. And because his home, it was a research center given to the both. Kaveh forfeited ownership yet Alhaitham is aware that Kaveh put in efforts in the project.
What he thought would be a minimum of two weeks was now a full five months of living with him.
It invaded his personal routine, he thought. Yet it strangely never minded him. Maybe he's used to adjusting himself, or he really is growing lonely like his grandmother used to say.
As his pen slides across the paper. Writing swiftly, gets an idea.
Maybe he could get some of Kaveh's favorite wine on the way, yeah. He could use some too
A small but happy smile was on his face.