Archive of Our Own

The world shrinks and expands; the plane dives past the clouds to expose the foggy skyline of Sumeru City, and two minutes later, the wheels touch the runway. An airport worker in a bright orange jacket approaches the aircraft as it taxis to the bridge, and stops for a second, fixing her violently flapping hair. Sumeru City was always windy, and some things haven’t changed, Kaveh supposes.

The security is quick and uneventful, even if navigating the language he’s barely spoken in the past 10 years is odd. His luggage arrives pretty fast, so he’s out next to the entrance merely half an hour after the landing. The rain starts as if on cue. Kaveh stretches his hand to feel the warm droplets land on his palm. It was sunny but chilly in Fontaine when he got to the airport earlier today—for all his academic training, Kaveh won’t ever stop being amazed by Teyvat.

He looks around, trying to spot a familiar figure among the folk fussing around their cars, to no avail. A family loads the bags into the trunk. A little ginger girl barely reaching her dad’s waist in height keeps blabbering on as he listens to a colourful recount of what they saw in Nostoi. He looks tired, stealing glances at the watch, and, frankly, Kaveh is tired, too, and where is this—

His phone buzzes once, twice, then a litany of messages comes flooding in. Among the perfunctory ‘welcome to Sumeru’ messages, promos, and a notice from Akasha to register at the closest state branch within the next two weeks comes a short explanation.

“Hello. Something came up, and I won’t be able to pick you up from the airport. You can find a taxi there. Don’t worry if you don’t have enough cash on you.”

And, honestly, it’s Kaveh’s fault for relying on this man of all people. He could have booked a hotel. Scratch that, he should have booked a hotel, but he didn’t, so he starts walking forward, where the rank used to be. The address, together with the charming welcome, is familiar, though not the one Kaveh expected.

Well, he’ll have plenty of time to ask his questions; he may even be lucky enough to get answers.

* * *

Alhaitham looks all the same yet so different. His hair is lighter grey; he wears eyeglasses now, apparently, and his frame, hugged by a fitted black turtleneck, appears larger. He was already trying to build some muscle when they still knew each other, and it appears that Alhaitham has remained as good at achieving his goals as he was all those years ago.

Kaveh’s suddenly too conscious of a hair strand clinging to his sweaty forehead.

“The research centre? Seriously?” He exhales because he needs to say something, anything.

“I legally registered it as a residence.” Alhaitham deadpans. “It’s convenient, because it’s not far from the Akademiya. Problem?”

Cyno and Tighnari got married, adopted a teenage girl, and now, more often than not, offer their spare bedroom to Cyno’s cousin, whom Kaveh didn’t know about. They need more space, and so they are expanding, and so Kaveh can’t stay at their non-existent house. Naturally, he doesn’t get to have a problem with this.

He steps inside, looking around. It’s not just re-registered as something it initially wasn’t; it’s also refurbished beyond recognition. The simple shapes, minimal amount of furniture, a pocket-door wardrobe stretching halfway along the hallway wall — everything looks simple, clean and intentional, if only soulless.

He stares at an emerald green accent wall.

“What have you done here? Looks like an interior magazine spread.”

“Thank you,” Alhaitham’s answer is clipped, but Kaveh can swear there’s this note underneath, something like smugness.

“Wasn’t a compliment. So, what were you so busy with? It’s not every day that your friends stop by.”

“Are we friends?” It’s not malicious; it’s just awfully blunt in this very Alhaitham way. Kaveh’s jaw twists into a snarl before he can think that through. “Spare me your colourful assessment of my personality. As I’ve said, I had a reason.”

“Dad?” A little voice speaks from the hallway, and Kaveh’s stomach drops.

She stares at the two of them with curious green eyes, a little girl, no older than six. Her hair is white, decorated with a few strings of crocheted vines. They look sweet, tiny bells in them softly chime as she turns, her relaxed expression turning a bit wary the second she notices Kaveh.

“What… Who is this?” Kaveh whispers.

“The reason.” Alhaitham shrugs, turning to the little girl. “Feeling better already?”

She nods, still throwing curious glances Kaveh’s way.

“You have a kid.”

He’s about to get sick.

“That’s not an unheard development of things at our age, don’t you think?”

“You haven’t said anything!”

“Did you ask me whether I had a kid? You asked me whether I have a spare room, and I just so happen to have both.”

“Don’t you think it’s better if you do notify your potential guest of that?”

“Only if the child is ill-behaved and disruptive to their surroundings, and the one asking has the luxury of being picky. Do you have an array of invitations lined up that I’m not aware of?”

“You!...”

“Is this the Kaveh?” The girl interrupts them, her voice quiet, staring into Kaveh as she cocks her head to the side.

The Kaveh?! What the hell has Alhaitham told her? There’s a half-second-long storm in Alhaitham’s teal eyes before he speaks, biting inside of his cheek.

“Why, yes. This is Kaveh, alright. Kaveh, this is Nahida.”

“Alright. Did you bring sweets?” She asks.

“Er, I—”

“Let’s get you back to bed,” Alhaitham says, instantly walking up to Nahida to give the lightest of taps on her shoulder. “Off you go.”

“Alhaitham—” Kaveh starts, and Alhaitham turns for a second, tiredly waving his hand.

“Help yourself to coffee. Your room is first to the left, make yourself…” Alhaitham sighs. Kaveh notices the pause. It’s hard not to—Alhaitham is not the one to mince his words, or at least wasn’t one. “You know.”

Coffee does sound good.

* * *

Kaveh has a few meetings and a brief lunch, then heads to a jewellery stall in downtown Sumeru and spends a good couple of hours measuring, drawing, measuring again, and checking for details he missed. A client calls him as he’s returning to the residence, and he has to prop his phone with his shoulder as he digs out his key card to get through three security gates on the way to the block of the fancy apartment complex Alhaitham now lives in.

In the kitchen, he drops a bag from a grocery store and another one from the sweets stall in the mall stationed opposite the bus stop nearest to the house, storms through the open door into the living room and unceremoniously sprawls on the turquoise designer couch opposite the large TV set.

Ugh.

The house smells vaguely of sandalwood and pine, something reminiscent of a scent he once grew to associate with Alhaitham. It’s subtle, something picked from the higher-end shelves of the local perfume chain. This new Alhaitham can definitely afford that, and, seemingly, takes pleasure in splurging on himself; Kaveh wishes he could make a judgment based on that habit, but it’s complicated.

It’s been a decade of colourful work experience abroad, packed into an impressive bullet-point list on his CV. He worked corporate and climbed ranks till he hit the ceiling; he participated in questionable engineering endeavours in hopes of carving a name for himself in Fontaine and almost landed himself in the Fortress of Meropide on one particularly bad occasion.

His friends and his ex thrive. Fuck—Alhaitham became a parent! Alhaitham! Alhaitham, of all people, has an entire tiny person calling him ‘dad’! All Kaveh has is a used boarding pass and a digital portfolio.

There’s a quiet sound from the armchair in the corner of the room, akin to someone clearing their throat.

“Well, hello to you too,” Kaveh tiredly raises his hand.

“Rough day?”

“What was your first clue?”

There’s a sigh followed by a soft hiss of a page being flipped.

“There’s soup on the stove if you’re hungry.”

“Soup? You made soup?” Kaveh can’t. Kaveh just has to lift his head to stare at Alhaitham, because this is the level of insanity they’re at now, apparently—Teyvat is a frisbee floating aimlessly through time and space, Natlan is the coldest nation among the Seven, and Alhaitham makes soup on Thursdays.

“Yes. That, and pita pockets. Some things come with the territory when you’re raising a first-grader.”

Alhaitham’s lips are very tight, as if he’s ready for a fight. Weird. Must be the play of dimmed peachy light coming from a floor lamp next to him.

“Speaking of which, I wasn’t sure what Nahida likes, so I got baklava, loqum and padisarah pudding.”

“...You know you don’t have to buy her sweets, don’t you?”

“It’s impolite to show up to a kid with no presents.”

“I’m merely checking,” Alhaitham says, fixing Kaveh with that piercing glare of his.

Kaveh’s chest clenches, and he makes sure to bury his face back into a decorative pillow.

“I never thought you’d have a child. Did you get married?” He quietly asks.

It’s been a long time, after all. Alhaitham doesn’t respond long enough for Kaveh to accept the defeat.

“There are different ways of having children. I wouldn’t need to get married for that.”

“Surrogate?”

“Adoption,” Alhaitham cuts off. It’s final enough that Kaveh doesn’t prod any further.

He sits across the armchair with his legs draped over the armrest, wearing a comfy-looking pair of black pyjamas. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and he ruffles his hair, peering into a book for a moment.

“She was two when we met. Very quiet, always watching people from afar. Observant, too. Foster care wouldn’t be kind to someone like her.”

“Is that why…” Kaveh doesn’t finish the thought.

“Maybe. It just felt right,” Alhaitham shrugs.

He squints, adjusts his glasses, and blinks a couple of times before pressing fingertips against closed eyelids. Finally, with a sigh, he sets the book aside.

Kaveh looks at him. There’s that weird longing for things that never happened, moments that were beyond reach. Would he like to get to know this Alhaitham gradually, as the kid he once knew began to shed some of his thorns, to grow into himself? Would he like to be there when Alhaitham made decisions, big decisions? Alhaitham cocks his head.

“What?”

“...No. Nothing. It’s nothing.”

And if he repeats it many times enough, it may as well become true.

* * *

Nahida, as Kaveh learns on his second weekend back in Sumeru City, doesn’t like eggs, or porridge, or cottage cheese. It more or less means that anything her paediatrician approves for breakfast is off the table, unless some elaborate plan is involved. Today, part of Alhaitham’s elaborate plan is to turn cottage cheese into pancakes and serve them with a copious amount of fresh fruit and honey, while Kaveh distracts Nahida by teaching her how to make paper cranes.

“And so all my class is going to the fair!” Nahida concludes. “Isn’t that great?”

“Sounds like a big crowd,” Kaveh hums, watching Alhaitham flip the pancakes; the kitchen vaguely smells of coffee, browned butter and vanilla.

Fresh morning breeze seeps through the slit in the balcony door, along with the voices of children playing in the garden, dogs barking, and people chattering. It’s a distant buzz, different from the usual bustle of the city, thanks to the extensive foliage surrounding every building, as well as the strict no-vehicle policy the premises have. Still, it’s loud enough to conceal Alhaitham’s exhausted sigh—almost.

“Well, Nahida happens to admire big crowds, because they make perfect ground for people watching. As well as other fun activities that tend to end with me having paint on my face, for one reason or another.” He speaks, approaching the table with a coffee cup. “Black, one cube of sugar, yeah?”

“You remember,” Kaveh takes the cup all too quickly.

Their fingers brush briefly. Alhaitham’s hand jerks as if he were hit by electricity; he clears his throat and retreats to the stove.

“You look great with paint on your face, though!” Nahida giggles, but her voice is sincerely proud. “Isaac says that you’re the coolest dad.”

“I shall be content as long as I have Isaac’s approval,” Alhaitham nods and sets a plate before Nahida. “Eat up. I’ll buy you pashmak candy at the fair.”

“Face paint is fun,” Kaveh watches the tiny frown between Alhaitham’s eyebrows.

He digs into one of the poached eggs over labneh with a piece of crispy, fresh barbari bread. Alhaitham doesn’t spare him a look, all too busy flipping through a fresh research digest. His hand is a bit too forceful, in a way that makes no sense for Alhaitham, but with the prospect of crowds, people touching him, noise… Sounds like a Ley Line anomaly designed for Alhaitham’s individual torture.

“It is! You should come!” Nahida exclaims.

“Can I?” Kaveh shoves another bite into his mouth. Nahida’s nods are nothing short of enthusiastic, so Kaveh continues. “I have another suggestion: what if I take you there?”

“No.”

Alhaitham’s voice is suddenly all too sharp. Kaveh stops, hand hovering mid-air as his gaze meets Alhaitham’s. His frown is now deeper, too; probably, in the way that mirrors Kaveh’s own. Well, excuse him for trying to be nice, huh!

“You’re free to join us if that’s your kind of party,” Alhaitham speaks again, gruffly. “The ‘no’ was to your second offer.”

It’s quiet at the table. Kaveh feels attentive green eyes shift between them, as Alhaitham goes back to staring at the digest. He moves it around, leans further into the chair, scanning the text. The frustration oozing from him only thickens, but it seems like it has nothing to do with the noisy crowd at the fair or with Kaveh offering to take Nahida off his hands for a day.

“That’s settled then. Kaveh’s coming to the fair!” Nahida announces, obliviously joyous.

* * *

Alhaitham finds a spot at the bench where he can read and still see Nahida at all times. Any attempts to have a conversation die quickly in the car. Kaveh tells himself it’s the distant aura Alhaitham exudes that keeps him away from the guy, not the fact that they became strangers. He looks over the stalls, buzzing with students and parents alike, all different kinds of smells and colours mixing into an assaulting cacophony.

“Kaveh? Kaveh! Over here!” The voice he’d only hear on the other end of the line for a decade now calls out.

But of course! Tighnari and Cyno’s girl is school age; he should’ve known they’d come. Kaveh rushes to the voice and finds himself in a bear-tight hug before the familiar figure registers in his vision.

“You’re here!” Tighnari exclaims with a wide grin. “Who would have thought? Collei, look. This is Kaveh.”

“Oh, huh. Hello,” A green-haired girl greets him, her movements a bit clumsy.

“Hi. What is it, is it, like, your stall?” He looks around at the array of crocheted plushies.

“It sure is,” Cyno’s hand lands on Kaveh’s shoulder, his usually strict voice softened by a smile. “Collei is a master.”

“Anything up to your liking?” She asks, and Kaveh looks attentively at the plushies.

He doesn’t have much use for those, but Nahida seems to take a liking to green. Kaveh’s fingers linger on a big green cat-shaped pillow.

“That’s Cullein-Anbar. I have him as a keychain and as a smaller plushie. Have a look!” Collei briefly disappears behind the stall and places the duo in front of Kaveh.

“These are beautiful. I guess… I’ll take a plushie. How much for it?” Kaveh traces the stitches with his hand.

“Just take it. It’s… It’s really nice to put a face to the name, y’know?” Collei gives Kaveh a soft smile.

“Thank you! Thank you, it’s just. Ah. It’s for a friend, and I’d feel awful—I just…”

“Nahida?” Tighnari says with a knowing smile. “She has three Cullein-Anbars. Collei may give you something more… novel for her.”

“Just a moment!” Collei digs out a box of plushies and places a few other toys on the stall. “She’s been into Aranara lately.”

“And this one kind of looks like Alhaitham,” Cyno points at one, making Collei burst into a giddy giggle. Kaveh can’t help but smile, even if it feels forbidden. “Do you guys get along all right?”

“Oh, um—”

“Like a house on fire,” Alhaitham’s voice cuts in, interrupting whatever gibberish Kaveh could spew, unprepared and flustered. “Can it be otherwise? It’s not every day that you get to see the Sumeru’s architectural prodigy in flesh.”

Must he be this cruel? But then again, it’s Alhaitham and crowds, and if there’s ever a good moment to bite the bullet, this must be it. Kaveh keeps the toy close to his chest.

“I hope it’s appropriate,” he says, seeing Alhaitham’s eyes lock with the creature’s sewn-in face.

“I’ll allow it,” Alhaitham nods after a tight pause, and then turns to Cyno and Tighnari. “Dinner sometime soon?”

“Yeah,” Cyno nods and turns to Kaveh. “You should come, too.”

“I’ll try,” Kaveh timidly agrees, watching as Alhaitham goes over some toys, casually talking to Collei.

He watches and remembers days spent at mom’s summer house in the Beryl region, in the garden looking into the kitchen, where mom would talk to her new husband, and fuss over her new kid.

He watches and remembers lunch breaks in Court of Fontaine when a colleague of his would strike up a conversation with a stranger, and so much common would surface—cafes visited that no longer exist, mutual friends who had since moved, performances in the Opera Epiclese that hadn’t run in years.

He watches, and there’s that same gap, the red line and a warning that separates him from everyone else; the real question is why he expected things to be different after such a long absence.

Kaveh forces a smile. Hugs Tighnari goodbye and waves to Collei. Walks up to a few more stalls, trying a dessert here, a craft there. And when the time comes, and Alhaitham texts that they’re leaving, Kaveh rushes to the parking lot in time to find them loading the car.

Sumeru City’s sunsets are dreamlike.

* * *

“You know math well.”

Nahida’s announcement is accompanied by the sound of a textbook smashing the table. Kaveh shuts his eyes tightly for a second, letting the yellowish contour of his blueprint flash before his eyelids one, two times. Archons, he really needs to finish this project. He wanted to start construction as soon as possible, and it’s already been over a month.

“Uh… I suppose,” Kaveh says.

“I don’t understand this,” she points at a brief paragraph describing fractions.

“And you decided to change it by harassing Kaveh, who’s clearly busy working. Got it,” Alhaitham’s voice speaks.

It’s Tuesday afternoon. The weekend meal prep still stands strong; the house is all clean; there isn’t more laundry than usual. Alhaitham can afford to laze, and that’s what he does: he tried to read at some point, but eventually gave up, removing his glasses with a sigh. His voice is husky, as if he’s accidentally fallen asleep, and he looks like a grumpy cat, which would be funny—but every time Alhaitham shields Nahida like Kaveh is trying to do something evil, Kaveh finds less and less humour in all of it.

“You didn’t explain it clearly last time. I want to hear other versions. That’s all.” She talks to Alhaitham, but Kaveh can feel the curious, attentive gaze on himself as he studies the lines of text.

“I can help, Alhaitham. That won’t take long.”

“Suit yourself. I was merely trying to give you an out in case you can’t say ‘no’.”

Kaveh sighs and draws a circle on a page of his sketchbook.

“Now, imagine this is a cake…”

“What kind?”

“Your favourite.”

“That’d be chocolate cherry,” Alhaitham comments from the couch.

“A big, amazing chocolate cherry cake it is, then,” Kaveh clears his throat, as Nahida unceremoniously climbs his lap. “And, like… It’s for your birthday, alright? When’s your birthday?”

“October, twenty-seventh,” Nahida says, her face turning interrogative as she ignores the ‘cake’ to flip through other pages of Kaveh’s sketchbook.

“So, let’s imagine that—”

“Your drawings. These look strange. Dad says that you’re very good at drawing, but these look like… Uh… They call it geometry? Where are your normal drawings?”

“Nahida.”

Alhaitham’s voice is stern. A bit cautious?

“Well, I could show you some after we’re done here. Deal?” Kaveh asks, flipping back to the excuse for the cake. And, because he can’t not be nosy about that, he asks. “What else does your dad tell you about me?”

“Weren’t you explaining fractions?” Alhaitham interrupts.

“Right, right. Of course. So, imagine there’s this big chocolate cherry cake…”

* * *

It hits near the morning.

Kaveh drags himself outside and plummets onto the garden bench. The sky is deep blue, not a ray of sun in sight yet.

One spruce, two spruces, three…

Huh. He has counted this one already, hasn’t he? He starts again, but his eyes wander, the hem of his T-shirt chokes him, and his cheeks feel numb.

Three spruces, one rose bush, one…

One—

“Awake?” Alhaitham’s voice is too loud and too near, and Kaveh jerks, fingers clenching around the decorative cushions.

The fabric is rough under his fingers. Interwoven threads awaken his skin. This is just a garden, just Alhaitham’s house, just the early morning, and Kaveh isn’t drowning.

He nods. He’s not sure he’ll manage proper sentences if he speaks now. He meets Alhaitham’s gaze properly and gives him a look-over. He’s wearing a simple dark grey two-piece set that does little to hide his stupidly big muscles; his headphones rest around his neck; a water bottle and the key are clenched in his fingers.

“Leaving somewhere?”

Alhaitham doesn’t answer immediately.

“Just a small hike. It’s my morning routine.”

“Huh. And Nahida just stays?”

“I have cameras and all, and I’m friends with a neighbour. She knows to go fetch Dehya if something’s up, but she usually just sleeps till the alarm. I’m already back by then.”

“Of course,” Kaveh looks back at the horizon. His tongue still feels foreign in his mouth.

A rose bush, and… And…

“Care to join?” Alhaitham’s voice speaks again.

They set off together, in silence. Air touches Kaveh’s cheeks, grass shuffles and hisses under his feet. They avoid wide pedestrian zones and vehicle routes, but little shops and miscellaneous houses occasionally hide between the trees.

He can’t recognise a single one.

The sunrays glimmer at first, then persistently make their way into the tiny tears in the otherwise impregnable wall of leaves above their heads.

“What are you doing, Kaveh?” Alhaitham suddenly breaks the silence.

The sea is visible beneath, stretching like an endless greenish sheet into the distance. A road follows along the boulevard line. A rare car passes, but the roar of the engines is still muffled.

“I’m walking.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“You’re being unforgivably vague with your words. Had I done the same, you’d jump at an opportunity to avoid the direct answer.”

“Cut me some slack this once,” Exasperated as Alhaitham’s voice may be, it’s not unkind in a way that’s dangerously close to warmth.

“Huh. You’ve truly aged, haven’t you?”

“If I’ve aged, imagine what…” Alhaitham cuts himself off, turning to face Kaveh, and tsks. “Forget it. You look good.”

There goes the effectiveness of Kaveh’s strategically placed barbs. He’s silent for a while. Alhaitham leads, he follows—it’s comfortable. Kaveh is careful with roads, but Alhaitham’s hand jumps in front of Kaveh’s torso as they make it down the hill and onto the curb, and the black sedan drives past them. The glitter on the water surface is bright enough to blind; Alhaitham squints, shielding his face. The horn of the first boat setting to Port Ormos sounds in the distance.

“I wanted to come back home,” Kaveh finally answers.

“Is that all? Didn’t you dream of making it big in Fontaine? All those speeches about their art appreciation, about working along big shots in architecture,” Alhaitham doesn’t sound bitter, those are just mind games.

“The funny thing is that your opportunities shrink once a potential employer sees your Sumerian passport. Not to mention—” Kaveh cuts himself. “Look. I’m not complaining. I made a decision. I gave it a shot for as long as I could. I accomplished a lot, actually. It just didn’t amount to much. I want to come back home. Is that too odd?”

“I guess it isn’t,” Alhaitham says. “If only someone had tried to warn you that this could happen.”

Ah. There it is.

“Well, yes, I made an ass of myself, you told me I would, your glee and vitriol are warranted!” Kaveh snaps. “Why even agree to let me live with you if my mere existence in the same house is such a thorn?”

“...That is not what’s happening.”

“Isn’t it? You’re… Are you not keeping your distance? Are you not guarding Nahida from me like I’m a mad Sumpter Beast let loose?” Kaveh’s voice rings in his ears.

“You’re not the only person who was hurt.”

“Right.”

Alhaitham keeps walking. He won’t even look to Kaveh’s side. This is a sick joke played by the two of them in equal measure, with no aim but to prove what’s already known to both.

“This is how it always ends for us,” Kaveh tells, unsure if it’s meant for Alhaitham or just for himself. “This was a mistake. Like, what was I even thinking, messaging you, asking if I could crash at your place?”

Alhaitham actually stops. It’s so abrupt that Kaveh almost falls over as he mirrors the motion.

“I can’t believe you right now,” his voice is quiet enough that it fails to interrupt Kaveh’s verbal diarrhoea for another few seconds.

“...I’ll find another house and get out of your skin before— What?”

“And to think you’re surprised that I’m cautious!”

“Alhaitham—”

“Let me speak.”

He’s calm. It’s all the worse.

“I’ve come to terms with the idea that you could disappear when things get difficult. I could handle it when I was only responsible for myself. Then, just like you had once decided that you’re done with Sumeru, you decided that you’re done playing a starving artist in a foreign land. You came back, fully expecting to find everything exactly where you left it, exactly how you left it. Was my life supposed to be temporarily frozen the moment you passed customs? Guess what? I kept living on, just like you kept living on, and things have ultimately changed.”

Alhaitham’s chest rises. He takes a deep inhale.

“Just because Nahida is from foster care doesn’t mean that one day, when you decide that you’re onto the next thing that feels the rightest in the moment, she won’t be scorched. How do I explain to her something I’m still failing to compartmentalise? How do I tell her that one day, you’re here, and you buy things she likes, and try be her only chaperon at the fair, and explain fractions to her, and let her say that she wants to split the cake between three people—one of them being you—and then the next day you’re off to some place thousands of miles away, slaving away for some household name in architecture because your art doesn’t matter if you don’t suffer?”

“You’re putting words into my mouth.”

“Am I, now? Didn’t you just say that you’re running away again?”

“When were you going to tell me that this entire thing was an elaborate experiment meant to test me? Or, like, what, did I fail before it could ever start, and you’re angry now because I couldn’t find the perfect solution to an impossible problem?”

“Talk about assigning false meaning to the other’s rhetoric.”

Kaveh shakes his head. Pulse rings in his ears. Sudden silence assaults him as the early morning city rush returns. What are they doing here? He knows he sounds defeated, and numb, and pathetic, and yet, he repeats it one more time.

May as well be a mantra.

“I just want to come back home.”

Alhaitham’s shoulders deflate. He doesn’t speak for so long that Kaveh thinks that he’s back into himself, somewhere beyond the reach.

“For good?”

Kaveh ponders. It’s a big thing to ask, isn’t it? Is it for good? Kaveh isn’t sure, but the thought of being elsewhere makes his stomach churn. He’s had enough, he’s really had, so he nods.

“Alright then,” Alhaitham lets go of the breath he’d held while Kaveh contemplated, and gives a nod of his own. “Alright.”

* * *

“No.”

“This is just a toy we made in class!”

“And specifically because that’s a toy you made with Klee and Aino, we’re not taking it to the restaurant. Colouring book or fairytales?”

“But dad!”

“I’m not negotiating with terrorists, Nahida. Colouring book or fairytales?”

“Colouring book.”

“Great choice.”

Kaveh passes by the kitchen in time to see Nahida turn and make a face, and Alhaitham pretends he hasn’t seen it, his eyes locking on Kaveh instead.

“Thought you wouldn’t make it in time.”

“Please,” Kaveh drags the word, throwing a quick glance at himself in the mirror.

What a disaster, honestly. He’s his own boss now. Why doesn’t he just stop going to the site on days when he has evening plans? Alhaitham’s already all busy packing a bag, so Kaveh’s got to be quick if he still wants a ride.

“This is the first time I get to hang out with Nari and Cyno in years. ‘Dinner soon,’ for the love of Archons! When did you all get so old that ‘soon’ is literally ‘next month’?”

“You could have been preparing in the time you’ve just wasted complaining.”

Kaveh rolls his eyes; he hoped for a brief shower, but that’s futile. All he can do is throw something nice on, smudge some kohl on his waterline and freshen up his perfume. He barely makes two passes with a hairbrush when Alhaitham calls out his name. Kaveh curses under his breath.

“Just a minute, I’m fixing my hair!”

“We have to be there in half an hour,” Alhaitham’s annoyed voice and the sound of his footsteps get louder as he approaches the guest bathroom.

“And it’s totally alright if we’re a few minutes late,” Kaveh huffs. The braid just won’t cooperate!

“Maybe,” Alhaitham agrees, and steps into the bathroom, fingers taking over Kaveh’s hair, squinting. “I can’t— Anyways. If we aren’t late, I may or may not stop by a spot that makes off-season quince dessert. Palace style, the way you like it.”

“You’re using the same tactics on me as you do on your six-year-old!” Kaveh gasps, trying to turn, but Alhaitham’s hand on his shoulder pins him.

“If the shoe fits. Do you want quinces or—”

“I do!”

“I thought you weren’t negotiating with terrorists,” Nahida comments from the hallway, clearly still miffed about that toy.

“Kaveh, if you must know, doesn’t make explosives, even though he’s absolutely capable of that,” Alhaitham picks up a pin from the counter, quickly fixing the braid. “I’ll cease to make him offers the second I learn that he set a protected tree species on fire. Alright. We’re good to go now.”

…What?

* * *

“Did they take saffron chicken off the menu?” Alhaitham sighs.

“Let me… Yeah. It seems so,” Cyno hums.

Kaveh scans the menu they’re sharing for a second.

“Tahchin looks like something you’d eat.”

“What’s inside?”

“Lamb, barberries, rice— Wait, the ingredients are right here!” Kaveh exclaims.

“And I clearly can’t see what’s written,” Alhaitham speaks as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Seriously?!

“When did you renew that eyeglasses prescription?”

“Six months ago.”

“He needs surgery for that, not new eyeglasses,” Tighnari says, voice barely above a whisper.

He takes a peep at Nahida, all too preoccupied with the page in the colouring book she’s chosen with Collei.

“And,” He continues, more at ease, “I can still arrange it with one call. You’ll need to get it, sooner or later.”

“Out of the question,” Alhaitham says. “I’ll get tahchin.”

“It’s quick, though, isn’t it? Only takes a minute, I’ve heard.” Kaveh asks. “Why not?”

Alhaitham quietly points at Nahida, still none the wiser to the conversation.

“That’s some excuse,” Tighnari shakes his head. “It’s outpatient, you just need to take a cab home and do follow-ups.”

“I’ll need eyedrops. I can’t do eyedrops myself, and I’ve told you that multiple times—”

“You can ask for help.”

“It’s inconvenient to my current living circumstances. Asking for help means that I’ve got to have people in my house. I don’t want random people in my house.”

“I am the ‘random people in your house’,” Kaveh reminds, interrupting the back-and-forth between Tighnari and Alhaitham; Alhaitham stares. His lips gradually tighten.

“You’re anything but random.”

Kaveh chokes on nothing. How can he just say shit like this out of nowhere?

“Alright then. If I’m not a random person in your house, it’s not ‘inconvenient to your current living circumstances,’ is it? I’ll drive you to and from the Bimarstan so that you’re not alone, we’ll schedule it while Nahida is at school, I’ll take time off and work on my blueprints from home to make sure you get the eyedrops in time, and whatever else you need.”

“You’ll take time off? You? To administer my eyedrops?” And now he has the audacity of placing his chin on his palm—what is this, is he being cocky?!

It’s not a sight Kaveh has seen in years, and yet it’s so familiar and boyish. Challenging, perhaps. Kaveh squints, placing the menu he’s held onto this entire time on the table.

“Nari, call your guy or whatever.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“What date works?” Tighnari’s phone is already in his hand as he’s looking something up.

“Any school day.”

“I have my working obligations too, you know,” Alhaitham protests.

“Who are you fooling?” Cyno asks, “You’re just pissed you won’t get to read classified documents on the clock for two days.”

For the first time in a while, Kaveh laughs.

* * *

“Nahida is anxious,” Kaveh notes as they wait in the hallway.

Alhaitham drove her to school this morning. At some point, they’ve had a conversation, and Kaveh wasn’t privy to the details, but he knew it was about surgery. It’s two weeks, give or take, after their dinner, the first consultation with the doctor, and the round of tests to prove that Alhaitham is a good candidate. It’s too quick.

“So are you for some reason,” Alhaitham hums, filling in the paperwork.

Kaveh doesn’t like the Bimarstan’s ophthalmology department. It’s all drenched in orange, and that’s an irritating colour, and who puts an irritating colour in a space where people who have complaints about the very sense through which humans perceive colours?

“Projecting much?” Kaveh asks, but, honestly, it’s not every day that you convince a little kid’s parent to undergo a procedure that has even a minuscule chance of leaving him visually impaired for the rest of his life, right?

Alhaitham taps the pen repeatedly, furrowing his eyebrows.

“All done here,” he leaves the paperwork at the counter.

It doesn’t take long for him to be invited into the cabinet. The doctor allows Kaveh in, too, for some reason. He watches from the opposite end as Alhaitham sits in the chair and lifts his head to the ceiling, listens as the doctor walks Alhaitham through the steps, turns away because there’s something about eyes that is beyond what Kaveh can stomach, and, thirty seconds later, give or take, it’s over.

Alhaitham’s pupils are dilated. His gaze is on Kaveh, instantly studying him, as if it’s the first time he sees him.

“Wow,” he simply says. It’s probably Kaveh’s nervousness that makes him sheepishly smile.

“How is it?” the doctor asks, cleaning up the station.

“Much better,” Alhaitham hums, still watching Kaveh. “Are these grey hairs?”

“Weren’t there three months ago, but life with you pays off,” Kaveh snaps.

Alright. He’s still being insufferable; everything must have gone well.

“You’ll experience drowsiness because of the sedative today. Light sensitivity, dryness and blurriness at night and overcast weather are normal during the first week. The eyedrops prescription… That’s for your husband to handle. The frequencies and the dosages are all listed. Make sure he doesn’t rub his eyes, don’t ignore follow-ups, and call me if anything feels off.”

“Thank you. We’ll be back tomorrow,” Kaveh promises, reaching out his hand to help Alhaitham, but Alhaitham gets up by himself, making that face—honestly, what a child—and Kaveh simply follows him out.

“He called me your husband.” Kaveh’s hand freezes as he speaks, done adjusting the blanket Alhaitham claimed he didn’t need.

Alhaitham shifts to pull the sunglasses Kaveh has lent him down his nose enough to make direct eye contact with Kaveh.

“I had to write that you are in the paperwork, for convenience. Why else do you think they let you in the room?”

Kaveh pushes the sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose, his face and ears on fire.

Why, indeed?

* * *

Nahida is fidgety in the car on the way home, stomps her foot while Kaveh is trying to fish out his keycard with groceries in his hands, and sneaks into the master bedroom the second Kaveh’s eyes are elsewhere. He’s only managed to make sure that she washed her hands and changed into her home clothes when the door creaks.

“Nahida!—” he starts, but it’s all too late.

He comes up to the door at the opposite end of the hallway and stills. Alhaitham was too loopy after the ride home, but stopping Nahida means entering the master's bedroom, and for all the housework Kaveh has done in the past three months, never once had he entered the master’s bedroom. He’s been in Nahida’s room and has seen the extensive collection of toys, but that only happened after Nahida insisted, and…

“Are you feeling okay?” He sees the small figure on the bed crawl up to where an Alhaitham-shaped lump rested under the light blanket.

Her tiny hands brush hair off his face, palms resting on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” Alhaitham’s voice is muffled and gruffy. “Had a good day at school?”

“It was alright. Do your eyes hurt?”

“Only from light.” His hand sneaks between her shoulder blades, gently resting there. It’s hard to make out anything, with the blackout curtains tightly pulled and the lights off, but Kaveh sees when Nahida shuffles closer, planting two gentle pecks on Alhaitham’s closed eyelids, only to elicit an amused hum from Alhaitham. “I’m definitely all healed now.”

Nahida giggles, settling next to his pillow and gently combs through his hair.

“What now? Do we eat ice cream and watch cartoons all evening?” She suggests.

“Can’t do screens today and tomorrow.”

“Right…”

Kaveh turns around. This is not his place to be—well, he’ll need to come back with drops soon now that Alhaitham’s awake—but this is private. He goes into the kitchen, chops some chicken and vegetables, and starts the rice.

“Um. Kaveh?” Nahida’s voice calls out. “Can you read to us?”

“Sorry?”

Nahida sighs, pushing her fists into the sides.

“Can you read to us? I want to do something fun, but it’s better if he just listens.”

“Is he alright with me being in his bedroom?”

“Oh. Let me ask,” Nahida nods and runs away, the stomp of feet fading in the hallway a moment before she yells out an enthusiastic ‘yes’ followed by Alhaitham’s groan.

As Kaveh is all done in the kitchen and settled with the ‘A Thousand Nights’ tome in the armchair at the opposite end of the bedroom, looking up occasionally to see Nahida and Alhaitham snuggle together in bed, something hits him: it’s been a while since he’d been this peaceful.

So he does the thing. He reads till his throat feels scratchy, and takes a break to bring dinner. He gives Alhaitham eyedrops whenever the timer rings. He ventilates the bedroom and pulls the curtains open when the garden is drowned in deep blues and cicadas’ buzz isn’t overpowered by the sound of people talking, children playing. And, as he’s administering the last dose for the day, with Nahida sleeping soundly beside Alhaitham, he finds himself asking a question he’s afraid to get an answer to.

“Do you think we could just… be this?”

Alhaitham’s glance is steady on him, but he doesn’t speak for some time.

“I could.”

“Good. That’s good.”

What a relief.

“Yes. You, though? I’m not so sure.”

“…Even now?”

“I know what you’ve said, Alhaitham whispers, “But I also know you. I think that soon enough, you’ll get one of those ‘you have to drop everything right now’ calls. And you’ll leave, because whatever is on the table will be too attractive to turn down. But that’s alright, because that’s who you are. What matters is you’re here now, for however long, and I’m too tired to keep warning myself about the aftermath.”

The lump in Kaveh’s throat is too big to offer anything in response save for a strangled ‘good night.’

* * *

It takes Alhaitham over half an hour to pick a dress suit, ruffle his hair up with gel, and put on eyeliner.

“We’ll be late,” Nahida looks at Kaveh, her voice almost accusatory, as if it’s Kaveh still not ready to head out. It takes a minute to find the true cause, and she yells again: “Dad!”

“I’m almost done,” the voice responds, and it’s the third time they’ve had this exact dialogue.

“I’ll go check on him,” Kaveh says.

Nahida is wearing her uniform. They went to the mall a few days ago and selected some hair ties with flowers and cute bugs because, per Alhaitham’s words, ‘special occasions require special attire.’ Kaveh helped her braid them into her hair, and when her attention isn’t on the clock, it’s on the mirror in the hallway. Kaveh smiles to himself, heading to the master’s bedroom. The door is closed shut. And, although it’s been weeks since the master’s bedroom stopped being this odd no-entrance zone, Kaveh doesn’t open it now.

“Alhaitham?”

“Just a—” Alhaitham’s voice sounds a bit strained, and Alhaitham’s voice is never strained, and…

“I’m coming in.”

Kaveh enters the room to see Alhaitham seated at the edge of his bed. It’s covered for the day, not a single wrinkle on the dusted green velvet. Alhaitham is wearing a navy blue suit tailored perfectly for his shape. His eyeliner is sharp as ever, every hair strand is placed to create a calculated and flattering illusion of messiness, and the knot of his tie is symmetrical.

“What in the Abyss are you doing?” Kaveh is almost amused. “It’s half past eight!”

“I need a moment.”

He looks great, but there’s pallor to his skin that’s not just a testimony to his habit of religiously using sunscreen, and his eyes are wide enough to lose some of the edge.

“Define ‘moment’, Haravatat, because I’m afraid that the dictionary definition has changed since the last time I had to look it up,” Kaveh can’t help a grin spreading on his face when Alhaitham tries his best to give him a scolding glare. “Wow, how scary. Do you want a star or a flower to stick to your locker for that impressive performance?”

Alhaitham still doesn’t speak, but lets out a little huff.

“Can I sit?” Kaveh points at the bed.

“I don’t know if you can, but you certainly—”

“Alright, we have it in us to criticise my use of Sumerian. Good. There’s still a chance,” Kaveh plummets next to Alhaitham.

There’s nothing particularly interesting about the textured geometrical pattern of the steely grey wallpaper on the wall Alhaitham is busy watching. Kaveh joins the activity nevertheless, making sure to stay quiet. It’s not easy, and Kaveh is beyond grateful when Alhaitham finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Oh, for the love of… I can’t believe I’m the one saying it to you, but stop being so dramatic. It’s just an end-of-the-year ceremony.”

“It’s Nahida’s end-of-the-year ceremony.”

“Yes. There are eleven more to come. You’ll have ten more runs before the actually scary one comes along.” Kaveh turns to face Alhaitham, busy playing with the cuff of his off-white shirt. “Matter of fact, even on that one, all you have to do is buy a bouquet for her homeroom teacher and stand in the back. It’s not a strenuous activity even by your measure.”

Alhaitham nods. Kaveh wants to kiss away the frown between his eyebrows.

“Did you like it better in Fontaine?”

“Alhaitham, we’re running—”

“Please?” Alhaitham turns, finally. “Just for another minute? Talk to me about anything but that.”

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh groans. “Well. How do I put it? No. I mean, the Court is gorgeous, and all the waterfalls, they’re so scenic. Their public transportation is not a shitshow, either, unlike what we have going on here! Like, I know they had to figure out ways to navigate water, and I don’t demand anything like an aquabus, but have I told you that it takes me over an hour to get to my Bazaar site by bus? It almost takes as long as if I just walked!”

“You have. Multiple times.”

“And pretend like I haven’t told you that, because I don’t want to lose my citizenship if you report me to Akasha, but, Archons, is their coffee good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I’ll stop by the imported goods store, you have to try it, and… No. It’s not better. Different, yes, but not better.”

“I see,” Alhaitham tangles his fingers into his hair with a sigh.

“What, did it help? Shall we go now?”

Alhaitham makes no motion to get up.

This isn’t working. There’s a thing that does, but it doesn’t always work for Alhaitham, so Alhaitham will tell him to go to the Abyss, but it’s almost 8:45, and there aren't many options left, so… Ugh. There goes nothing.

“Haitham, may I hug you?”

Alhaitham freezes, but doesn’t shake his head. Kaveh wraps his arms around Alhaitham, waiting till the cold stone beneath moulds into something pliable. Alhaitham hides his face on Kaveh’s shoulder, his touch feathery as he hugs Kaveh back.

“Let’s go,” Kaveh says. Letting go is the last thing he wants. “Just hold out for a couple of hours, and then you can be as big a mess as you want. Sound good?”

* * *

“Do I pack trunks?”

“There’s a beach, but it’s stony, and the water is much colder than in Port Ormos.”

“Oh, wow, that definitely helped. Thanks for nothing!” Kaveh yells out into the kitchen, where the stove is sizzling as Alhaitham turns another grilled cheese that was unanimously chosen as one of the road trip snacks.

Nahida spends a good portion of that time seated on Alhaitham’s shoulders, repeating tongue twisters after him, laughing whenever either of them fails. Kaveh is mostly done with his bag, so he joins them for a moment.

“If it matters, I am packing trunks, and Nahida is packing her swimsuit. Though neither of us starts complaining about ‘freezing cold’ the second a thermostat shows anything below— Hey, stop that!” Alhaitham’s tone of voice turns annoyed when Kaveh snatches a sandwich that Alhaitham has just taken off the pan.

It’s as good a revenge as anything, so Kaveh just gives Alhaitham a content smile as he splits the grilled cheese into two, offering the second half to Nahida.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Kaveh warns, but Nahida is all too enthralled by the sight of cheese pulling to pay attention to him.

“Whoa!”

“Kaveh,” Alhaitham raises the spatula in mock warning as Kaveh begins eyeing the second sandwich, before even finishing the first.

“You were saying something about me not handling cold well,” Kaveh reminds.

“If twenty-five degrees above the freezing point qualifies as cold, then by all means, I was.”

“I’ll pack trunks. I do better these days.”

“Sure you do.”

“I’ll show you!”

“Sure you will.”

“Uncle Tighnari always says that it’s important to pack something for a very hot day and something for a very cold day. Trunks don’t take up a lot of space, anyway,” Nahida offers, bringing a piece of her sandwich to Alhaitham’s mouth, and Alhaitham takes a bite.

“Ah. That’s right, it may get chilly at night. Do you want me to grab you two your sweaters from the cellar, too?”

“I like the green one with little white bows.”

“Anything works. There’s an old grey jumper with a zipper on the top shelf in the corner,” Alhaitham says, adjusting the pan. “Would you please use a napkin instead of wiping your fingers on my face?”

“I’m sorry,” Nahida says in the tone that’s anything but sorry, and Kaveh barely manages to hold back a smile as he hands her one.

She wipes her hands, then dabs Alhaitham’s cheek with it before leaning to place a quick peck. Alhaitham tries his best to keep a straight face, and if they both continue seeing each other, trying not to laugh, they’re bound to fail, so sweater duty it is.

Kaveh’s pocket buzzes. The number is unfamiliar, but it starts with a five.

Fontaine.

“Hello,” Kaveh accepts the call.

“Hello!” An upbeat female voice sings through the dynamic. “Is this Kaveh of Bluestone Architects?”

“That’d be me, except that I haven’t worked there for six months now,” Kaveh stops in the doorframe.

“Ah, is that so? What a shame! I’ve heard the rumours, but I supposed it was a lie.”

“It isn’t, unfortunately. Still, is there anything I could help you with?”

“Oh, yes!” The young woman clears her throat, and her voice gets slightly more serious. “My name is Navia, you may have heard about my agency, Spina di Rosula.”

“I have,” Kaveh agrees—the aquabus lines were named after family members, including the very one he’s speaking to—how could he not? “It’s my pleasure, Miss Navia.”

“The pleasure is all mine!” Very enthusiastic, indeed. “Master Kaveh, do you accept commissions as of right now?”

There’s a sound of the spatula being laid on a spoon rest. Kaveh turns to meet Alhaitham’s gaze, sharp and unwavering.

“I do. Within the borders of Sumeru, that is, I’m afraid,” Kaveh’s throat is dry.

“Is that so?” The voice gasps. “Oh, but I’m sure that this is something you’d be interested in working on! Master Kaveh, a former colleague of yours, has told me that you were the one responsible for the proposal for the Hotel Debord’s expansion project in the Nostoi region. Is that true?”

“It is, yes.”

“What a shame that they’ve chosen another proposal.”

Understatement if there ever was one, not that anyone has asked for Kaveh’s opinion, of course.

“Indeed, Miss Navia. Such is life.”

“Master Kaveh, I’m looking to create a resort next to my home town of Poisson, and your proposal… Let me just say that it redefined my vision. I’d love to commission you—there are some details that need to be discussed, of course, but I trust that you could build something amazing there if you were given full creative freedom. It’s just one project, after all. Do you think you could return to Fontaine?”

“Miss Navia,” Kaveh starts slowly. His thoughts are all messy. “I…”

“Please don’t give your answer this instant! I’ll send you some plans and some papers, and you can contact me when you’ve familiarised yourself with them, alright? I’ll hear from you soon, Master Kaveh.”

The call disconnects before Kaveh can squeeze in another word. Alhaitham keeps staring at him. It’s weird because Kaveh rarely sees Alhaitham smile, and now is one of those moments.

He should be pleased, shouldn’t he?

Kaveh would do anything not to see that particular flavour of Alhaitham’s smile.

* * *

Kaveh finds Alhaitham in the rocking chair opposite the fireplace, half-asleep, with a book, as everyone in the rented villa gradually dissolves into an evening routine. The sounds of Nahida and Collei giggling come from upstairs, Sethos and Cyno are busy playing TCG on the terrace, and Tighnari, at some point, disappears between the aeons-old trees growing all around the resort. It’s beautiful, with stars not hidden beneath a milky veil of light pollution; the air is clearer without the mixture of heavy humidity and dust in Sumeru City, and Kaveh can’t wait to spend another six days here.

Who knew Sumeru had places like this?

“Don’t read in the dark. Have you gone out of your mind? Doctor Zahir won’t be happy if he finds out you do this.”

“Doctor Zahir has to be proud that I’m using the result of his hard work as intended.”

“I bet they don’t do revision surgeries barely three months after the first ones.”

“I bet it depends.”

It’s all the familiar banter, something so unequivocally them, something that must feel warm. It doesn’t. Alhaitham’s voice is cutting like steel.

“Have you called back yet?” He asks when Kaveh doesn’t leave after the torturous few minutes of Alhaitham reading and flipping pages with deliberate languidity.

“No. No, I haven’t,” Kaveh clears his throat.

“You should.”

The project is massive. Kaveh has borrowed Cyno’s work tablet to look at the extensive e-mail. It’s not a weird prank, not a floaty idea that may remain just that—it’s all serious, the kind of work that comes with a site analysis and a contract, a document from the Court politely threatening anyone who dares cut protected cypresses with a less than pleasant vacation at the Fortress of Meropide, calculations for the capacity and sizes of buildings. Kaveh can jump in at any second and be good.

“It’s a temporary change,” Alhaitham continues as Kaveh stretches his hands out to the fireplace, watching little flames joyously crinkle.

“Uh-huh.”

“You were right about the coffee, too. It’s delicious. Probably tastes even better when it’s not at a double markup.”

“Yeah.”

“Do they have an aquabus to where the project is?”

“Surprisingly, no. But I’d have to live in Poisson, and there’s a shuttle. I could push it and ask for a car, too.”

“Good. See if you can get a villa in the resort as a bonus. It’d be a money grab during the vacation season.”

“You’re so callous,” Kaveh huffs. “Then what, we go to spend every holiday in Fontaine once the project is finished?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Kaveh searches for a trace of emotion. He used to pride himself on being able to read Alhaitham like an open book, rolling his eyes whenever other students labelled him the ‘mysterious’ guy. When did Alhaitham learn how to hide even from Kaveh? Was it a skill acquired in a decade, or another one lost?

“I want to be home,” Kaveh says. “I don’t want to leave, even just for a temporary change.”

Alhaitham raises his eyes from the book page. His jaw is tense.

“This is a good project, Kaveh. Don’t be ridiculous. Didn’t you say she’s willing to give you full creative freedom? Don’t you think about the roads that may open?”

“Many roads, indeed. In Fontaine, that is.”

“You know Fontaine, though,” Alhaitham retorts, avoiding Kaveh’s gaze. “They’re better artists with better infrastructure and better coffee.”

“They are, but Sumeru? Sumeru is my home! I’ve disappeared for a decade once, and I’d rather wait for another few years till another perfect offer hits my table or doesn’t. The man I love and his child live here!”

“Oh? You should introduce us sometime.”

“Can’t you be serious for, like, a second?” Kaveh cries out. “Archons above, what a way to react to a confession.”

“I just don’t want your sentimentality to result in you ultimately making a rash decision that’s going to make you resentful the second your rose-tinted glasses smash against my charming personality.”

“I told you this is where I want to be, and I stand by it,” Kaveh exhales, shaking his head. “Look, Haitham, I haven’t called her back, but I responded to the email. I’m not taking that job. I have small projects, and I’ll take a dozen more if it means that I get to stay here with you.”

“I love you, too.” Alhaitham’s words are so brief and soft, they might as well have just been the wind whistling.

Kaveh wants to ask him to repeat it so that he can engrave the sight of Alhaitham’s lips shaping around them in his brain.

* * *

Sometimes, the right people don’t meet at the right time. Sometimes, recovering a relationship means that one needs to spend a decade abroad, searching, trying new things, coming to terms with a simple fact: you can run away from a place and everything associated with it, yet you can’t run from the biggest culprit of your misery—yourself.

It is a lot of time wasted—no, time spent—but it is ultimately better than staying back and looking at your youth, heart full of resentment and regrets. It is a big journey. It’s messy relationships fallen apart, career paths leading to nowhere, hobbies found and abandoned. It is the smell of gouache paint imprinted into every piece of textile in your humble, unventilated studio apartment under the court of Fontaine; it’s the sound of water tapping against metal pipes, a cough caught mid-August because, no matter what, the areas in the undercity are too moist and dark to have a healthy climate.

It’s also the once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to see a performance in the Opera Epiclese, fish-and-chips after a submission, and the first time diving under the water to see the Tower of Ipsissimus. Those are all things Kaveh had to try and experience, to know with unwavering certainty that he’s in the right place whenever the weekend comes around, and he plays with Nahida, while Alhaitham makes him that perfect coffee—they do splurge in the imported goods store, but it’s worth it.

When Kaveh wakes up one day, guilt-free, and dumps these realisations on Alhaitham, Alhaitham doesn’t say much. He smiles, kisses Kaveh on the forehead, and goes back to checking whether Nahida packed her Sumerian textbook into her school bag.

Kaveh could be offended at that, but sometimes Kaveh’s realisations about himself are things that were obvious to Alhaitham all along. But that’s alright, because Kaveh knows a thing or two that Alhaitham is yet to find out about himself, too.