Chapter Text
10 years ago
"You're pushing your luck, Kaveh."
"Oh, so it's my fault now? You're the one who can't agree to disagree, you always need to have things your own damn way—"
"Excuse me? You always insist on all your ideas. I simply dare to point out your mistakes."
"MY mistakes?! You know what's a mistake? This. This whole thing!"
Haitham really wanted the argument to be over. It felt different than the usual bickering with Kaveh. It made the knot in his stomach tighten painfully. It felt like danger.
"Look, it's late and you're not thinking straight. We can simply continue tomor—"
"No, for archons' sake, we can't! We simply can't agree on anything. Why? Because you're selfish!"
"Me? Look who's talking. You just can't bring yourself to admit how much you care about your own ideals. Has anyone ever told you that they're not the only, righteous way of doing things?"
No, why is he saying that? Sure, Kaveh is always set out on what he believes to be correct and perfect, yes, he does usually struggle to listen to others' opinions.
Why are they both acting like this? Sure, they normally bicker a lot, it's a routine at this point. But this, it's just—
"Cruel. That's what you are, aside from awfully selfish. Gods, I can't understand why I ever agreed to work with you."
"What? No, I'm not—"
"You are. And I refuse to entertain the idea that anyone would ever want to be your friend. You completely dismiss people's feelings. I've had enough of it."
Those words cut deeper than Haitham expected them to.
"You're not thinking straight, Kaveh. You can't just—" Haitham tried to speak up, despite his voice trembling slightly.
"Oh, I absolutely can. Go to hell, Haitham. I wish I'd never met you. And I pray I never see you again." Kaveh sounded equally miserable and angry.
As he turned out and started running away, no one but him saw the tears.
—
A while ago from now
As it turns out, prayers sometimes prove to be futile and gods have their own way of handling matters such as destiny.
Or fated meetings. Because this one definitely wasn't on Kaveh's wishlist.
It took place on a warm, late evening when the tired man went to a nearby tavern.
The Light of Kshahrewar. A renowned architect. A successful scholar.
Those titles meant nothing to a person who didn't have anything they truly desired. Like financial stability. Satisfaction with one's work.
Or a home. A place they could call theirs. Preferably shared with someone who, for once, understands what it feels like to have your soul ripped apart by your own mind.
That evening, Kaveh ordered a bottle of wine and tried to bring silence to his thoughts. It wasn't working as well as it was supposed to. He wanted to leave, but unsure of where to go, he stayed, staring into one point on the wall blankly.
"...Kaveh?"
He didn't react. Maybe this person will pass and leave him alone. Or maybe he's simply imagining things.
"Kaveh, is it really you?"
"Excuse me, I'm kinda busy, can I help—" He turned to the person standing next to him, annoyed.
And then he froze.
"Haitham? Al-Haitham?"
There was no way of mistaking him for someone else. The ghost of Kaveh's past, standing right before him. Surely he's been hexed. Someone's making a cruel joke. This can't be real.
Not right now. Not like this.
"Can I sit here?" Haitham, ever-so-relaxed, asked the question. As if this was a perfectly normal situation.
"Sure." Kaveh replied, ever-so-nervous. He tried his best to appear calm on the outside, but he felt his thoughts race, blood rush and throat tighten with anxiety.
He hasn't talked to Haitham in... what, ten years? He's seen him a few times, sure, but he made a point to avoid the man at all costs. It was a risk not worth taking.
And now he's just invited him to his own table. Idiot.
"Help yourself, if you'd like." Kaveh pointed to the unused glass next to his own. For some reason, the young woman serving here brought him two glasses instead of one, as if she were expecting a friend of his to appear. How ironic.
Haitham slowly grabbed the glass, pouring himself some of the red wine.
"I don't remember you being fond of drinking." Kaveh added, immediately regretting it. It was true though. Haitham had always made a point to basically refrain from drinking alcohol outside of home. He would always say something like...
"I'm not. And even if I were, I'd drink at home rather than in a public space. It's safer that way. No one will see you acting stupid or being drunk."
Kaveh couldn't help but laugh.
"But if the occasion demands it... I can make an exception." Haitham looked up, his gaze fully meeting the red eyes of his... companion, for the first time this evening. Kaveh's heart skipped a beat dangerously.
"Is the occasion that special?"
"Why wouldn’t it be? It feels like forever since I last saw you. How have you been, Kaveh?" Haitham asked, not a hint of ridicule in his voice. Just... this strange fondness. No, that can't be it. Kaveh's imagining things.
"Stable, I suppose. I just wrapped up one of my most recent architecture projects. The Palace of Alcazarzaray. You probably haven't heard—"
"I have. Are you proud of it?"
That took Kaveh by surprise.
"Obviously I am. I worked hard on it."
He decided not to mention all the downsides. Like, for example, having a huge debt and an even bigger impostor syndrome, never quite satisfied with his work.
"So it's worth celebrating then."
"I suppose so."
"If that's the case, why are you alone on an evening like this? You should be surrounded by friends and partying all night."
"What, am I obligated to be extraverted all the time? Maybe I didn't feel like talking to anyone? Why are you asking anyway?"
"Because you're never quiet in moments like these. You should be proud of yourself, of your work. The Kaveh I know would be the loudest person in this room."
"People change, Haitham. Besides, it's been a long time."
"It has. But you look miserable. Why? Is the degree that shelf on the wall hung at 89 instead of 90?"
"Haitham, I'm trying really hard to find a decently respectful way to say this — stay out of my damn business. Have you come here to ridicule me? Because if that's the case, leave. I don't feel like doing this. Not today."
The truth is, Kaveh really was miserable. What upset him even more was how easily Haitham saw it.
The other man took a sip of his wine. And then another.
"Fine. I'm sorry. I was walking by and I saw you through the window. I wanted to make sure it's really you."
Kaveh's grip on his glass tightened. He had a habit of picking the window seat in any place he was in, especially at night. If the placement was convenient enough, he could see the stars. Of course, for some reason, that had to turn against him.
"Well, it is me. And truth be told, you caught me at a bad moment."
"Today or in life?"
Kaveh sighed and slowly, with time and the amount of wine in the bottle decreasing, he started talking. After all, it's been such a long time since he's genuinely let someone hear his inner thoughts. The real ones, not the perfectly witty facade he skillfully put on every day.
Haitham was an old acquaintance. Despite everything, he's not the type to spread life-ruining gossip. Maybe the best person to share your struggles with is the one you have the lowest chances of seeing again anytime soon. This is just a one-evening thing. They'll drink, talk, and go their own separate ways.
Definitely.
Three hours later, both of them were tipsy and still sharing new facts about their lives. Little did they know, it was the closest they both have been to peace in ten years. Slowly, with the passing of time and the increased amount of alcohol in their blood, they got to know each other again.
"Yeah, and then the debt thing happened and... yeah. It's awful. Not very "Light of Kshahrewar" of me. You can laugh."
"Why would I? Sounds like you're in a lot of trouble."
"I am, but I'll manage. Once you press your brush to the canvas, you can't erase the paint."
"Should've used the pencil."
"Oh archons, absolutely."
Haitham looked lost in thought.
"What is it? Say it."
"I'm not sure how."
"Give it a try."
"Do you remember that house we got offered for our thesis paper back then?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Well, I accepted it. And I still live there. It's quite cozy."
"I envy you then. It must be a pleasant feeling. To, you know, have a place to call home."
"The point is... you don't have to accept this offer, of course, but..." Haitham paused, unsure whether or not to continue.
"What are you trying to say?"
"We can share. You need a place to stay. And it's been too quiet there, even for my liking. Plus, the house could use someone with… artistic senses."
Kaveh simply stared at him in disbelief.
"Haitham, I can't accept this. I just can't. It would be unfair, I'm sorry."
"I don't think so."
"Where'd you even get this idea from? I mean, no offense, but we didn't exactly part on the best terms."
"I know. That's exactly why I'm offering this."
"You're not serious."
"I am."
"It was a stupid argument, Haitham. It was a long time ago."
It felt like yesterday. Kaveh remembered every word of it. It still burnt deeply.
"Not to me."
"What?"
"Truth is, I've wanted to get in touch with you for a while now. I... thought we both could use the other's company. But I wasn't sure if it was a good idea."
Kaveh, once again, looked at Haitham, completely dumbfounded.
"Don't look at me like that. You're making things awkward." Haitham gazed down, suddenly appearing a bit anxious.
"Me? You just asked me to come live with you, out of the blue. Now that's awkward."
"Just tell me whether you want to give it a try or not. My offer still stands."
"I— You're insane."
Haitham smiled fondly.
"You've told me that before."
"And I was right, as per usual."
"Is it a yes or is it a no? Just say it. I won't get offended."
Kaveh was about to decline.
And then he looked into Haitham's eyes and tried to take in the sheer ridiculousness of this situation.
"It's a... I'll think about it. But I'm not declining.”
"Then give it some thought. You know where I'll be."
"And I pray that, by the time I see you again, you'll have come to your senses." Kaveh stared into his glass, mind wandering.
"You should know by now that some prayers are simply futile, Kaveh."
"I do. I just like pretending they aren't."
"Careful then. Don't run into an illusory wall and hit your head on it." Haitham finished his glass and put it down, wiping his lips on his sleeve. "Well, this was a... pleasant meeting. Though certainly a surprising one."
"It was. I'll... see you tomorrow, then?" Kaveh asked, watching his... acquaintance? Sure, let's go with that. Watching his acquaintance get up from his seat.
"Of course." Haitham replied leisurely. Suddenly, he leaned in slightly towards the other man. "Goodnight, Kaveh."
"Goodnight, Haitham."
—
Kaveh was at a loss for not just words, but thoughts as well. He sat in the tavern for maybe ten minutes, and decided it's time to call it a night.
"Sorry, may I get the bill?"
"Oh, your friend already paid for it. I think you weren't present at the table at that moment."
Kaveh wasn’t sure whether he should feel grateful or offended.