Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Every few days, a man with hair the shade of silver awoke from a dream. In this dream, all that seemed to take shape was the silhouette of another man. Brazen and bold and lovely, he took up the confines of the dream as if he belonged there. As if he had carved the space out for him and him alone.

The man with silver hair then wakes slowly, disoriented and grasping at faded memories of smiles so full of warmth, touches so gentle and eyes so ruby. He got up from bed, shuffling to a mirror mounted on his wall, and stared. He stared at his unruly, bed-ridden hair, before going down to his eyes which shone with a distinct drop of red over green, droopy and tired from sleep, and took one look at his crumbled sleep shirt before leading his eyes back to his face.

And he stared, futile in his efforts to recall the memories of his dream, in which he'd sworn he'd seen curls of sandy hair pinned back and a brilliant blotch of blue as decoration. He stared until, eventually, the memories faded away, and he was left wondering if he'd ever had the dream, to begin with.

Alhaitham sighed, turning away from his mirror, and started his morning. He brushed his teeth, washed up, and put on his outfit. He's careful as he heads to the kitchen, calm and measured steps to keep the task of breakfast to a minimum. He set two plates filled with food onto the kitchen island and heated water on a pyro-powered stove.

Then, he heard the distinct slam of a door and hurried footsteps running down to the kitchen. Alhaitham remained unbothered, watching the water before him catch and pop bubbles when his roommate skidded to a stop, burning holes into the back of his head. Alhaitham turned and watched as Kaveh skimmed over his figure with a look of panic, one that fizzled away and faded into relief once whatever bothered him had been disproved.

Alhaitham kept his eyes on him as Kaveh recovered and, for the first time that morning, made eye contact. The contact sent a shiver down Alhaitham's spine, and faint flickers of warmth and soft touches invaded his mind for a second before they disappeared. Kaveh then chuckled, tensing awkwardly as he tried to come up with an excuse for his odd behaviour. Not for today only, but for the previous days - weeks where Kaveh would go as far as barging into Alhaitham's room to see if he were present.

An odd routine crept up on both of them. Alhaitham dreamt of a man beyond his comprehension and Kaveh acted weirder than he ever had before. “Ah, are those eggs you've made? I'm surprised nothing has been burnt down.” The change of topic felt janky at best, and Alhaitham felt the need to bring it up again, like he had the previous days.

He raised an eyebrow, retort at the tip of his tongue, but paused when he saw Kaveh hunch into himself (and he remembered jaded remarks, Kaveh forcing himself to leave to avoid ‘such invasive questions’ and tense interactions afterward). With a frown and a pointed look, Alhaitham decided to drop it, if only for today.

“For the record, I recall you burning far more meals than I ever have.” Alhaitham started, looking down as the kettle let out a whistle, pulling it off the stove, “So unless you want to discuss your misfortunes with food as well, then I welcome you to continue.” Kaveh flashed him an irritated look, sniping a plate of food and cutlery from the island before moving towards their living room, falling into the seat with the gracefulness of a slug. He positioned the food so it was at a lesser risk of falling, and started to eat.

In the meantime, Alhaitham prepared two mugs of coffee, one with a few drops of sugar and milk to satiate the tolerance of a child and the other completely black. Alhaitham took both with him to the living room, placing the dark coffee next to Kaveh, who had finished his plate of food and reached to take a sip.

Alhaitham returned to the kitchen, choosing to eat his meal there as the older man brought his blueprints and equipment across the living room and spread them onto the table. The sound of graphite against paper filled the otherwise silent room and Alhaitham took his time to finish his food before he could head off to work. It was rare for Kaveh to be found in the house during working days, but he'd chosen to take a few days off for a reason Alhaitham knew nothing of.

Alhaitham took his key from the small bowl by the doorway when he'd finished eating and regarded Kaveh with one more look before leaving, taking slight note of the feeling of eyes on him when he had opened the door. He got to the Akademiya with little issue, and the day went on as painstakingly as usual when Alhaitham sat in the stuffy and too-big chair of the Grand Sage, going over the few hundred lists of applications alongside whatever else people had wanted to submit. He delved deeper into the workload, hoping to get the majority of it done before the end of the workday - with the persistence of someone who did not want to leave work for their future self.

By this point, any wandering thoughts of the dreams he'd been having were all but forgotten to better focus on his task.

–

He doesn't startle when Kaveh loudly announces his presence, partly because he could hear his faint footsteps seconds before his arrival, but mostly because he had a hunch Kaveh would visit. For the fourth day in a row now, Kaveh came to sit on the chair opposite Alhaitham's and placed the lunch he had neatly prepared and wrapped for the man on a part of the large table that wasn't overcrowded with stacks of paper.

“You seem to have forgotten yourself.” Kaveh started, busying his hands by unwrapping the lunch he had made (He claimed Alhaitham was too harsh with the material and made it crinkle too easily). “Whatever happened to the Alhaitham I knew who made it his life's journey to live easily?” He sighed, exasperation clear as he laid out the intricately decorated food.

Alhaitham said nothing, signing off the last of the paperwork of the pile he'd been working on, and setting it off to the side. He didn't bother to reach for another pile, instead watching silently as Kaveh fussed over his food. His eyes fell on the blonde's eyes, the dark under eyes more prominent in the few weeks his odd habits had begun to arise. He doesn't bring it up, knowing from experience that Kaveh would deflect harder than he does his living crisis.

So Alhaitham sighed, letting his gaze wander, and he took the lunchbox Kaveh had so graciously made (“You waste too much money buying lunch when you can easily make your own.” “I, for one, see no problem using the money I have. Though I understand how you might feel differently about the subject.”). He took an experimental bite, keeping his face neutral even as Kaveh eyed his expression like a hawk. He closed his eyes, letting the flavours settle on his tongue. There was always a certain taste to the food Kaveh made, when he'd finally learned how to make the food Alhaitham enjoyed. No matter how many times Alhaitham allocated a part of his evening to watch Kaveh cook, he could never quite catch the technique the architect used to get his food tasting so much like… warmth incarnate. His food tasted close to, or adjacent to, home. The warmth that came with home.

Alhaitham opened his eyes. “You underspiced it.” He said simply, digging up another spoonful of curry and ignoring Kaveh's indignant squawk. The smile that threatened to break on his face must have shown, judging by Kaveh's astonished look thrown his way. Alhaitham felt himself flush lightly beneath his gaze, skin heating under his collar. Kaveh blushed in turn, standing up so abruptly it caused the chair he was on to squeak loudly, the sound grating in Alhaitham's ears. He winced just as Kaveh said, “D-.. don't work while eating, you idiot!!” and rushed out of his office.

Alhaitham would watch his descent with something close to shock if it weren't something so Kaveh to do. He let himself smile this time, looking down at his lunch. How daring of him to have someone like Kaveh to call home.

–

I’m back here, Alhaitham thinks, eyeing his surroundings curiously. He is in a large library holding dozens of bookshelves, all bearing bouts of knowledge greater than any human could ever comprehend. The House of Daena, he concludes. The air feels soft, mist overtaking the area as he navigates his way through. The lights are off, it seems dark out and the only light sources come from the candles nestled on each table. It should be creepy, but the candlelight spreads more warmth than fear, and the stars shine beautifully from the view inside the library. The place looks ethereal.

Alhaitham startles when a voice calls out for him and spins around to find the silhouette of a teen standing in the middle of the library. He stands out against the atmosphere, radiant and glowing a bright, warm gold. He looks stunning, his gold hair braided to follow the curve of his neck, and Alhaitham rushes to approach him before he can think otherwise.

“It's been a while since we've been here this late, hasn't it?” the elder teen asks, reaching out to grab Alhaitham's hand and pulling him down to sit on the floor. There's already a blanket and a few pillows strewn around underneath the two, but Alhaitham hesitates. “... There are chairs we can sit on, you know.” He quirks a brow but sits down with no other complaints.

“It won't feel the same.” The blonde chides softly, settling comfortably on the warm material, encouraging Alhaitham to do the same. There's something intrinsically familiar about him. He moves exactly the way Alhaitham expects, with an elegant yet energetic poise. From the few glances he's been spared, Alhaitham can imagine how overly optimistic he is, almost to a fault. Seeing far more good in people than Alhaitham believes there even is in the first place.

Alhaitham chooses to file the information for later, and faces the person he can't decide is a stranger or not. “Why are we even here? I'd imagine a library that doesn't even have a roof lantern wouldn't be the best spot for stargazing, or whatever you plan to do.” Alhaitham questions more, a part of himself finding amusement in the annoyed tick forming in his expression. “Hush you, smartass. We’re not here for that tonight.” he refutes with a huff, reaching to pluck a book off a stack from the floor.

“We used to come here all the time when we were younger.” He starts, and the beginning of a smile paints his lips. “I remember the first night we started this, years ago. You wanted to get a book from here, but it had been too dark to read, so we huddled together on the floor with a lamp and I read it to you. We got too loud at some point and were removed by a guard passing by.” He ends with a laugh, the sound pulling a heartstring deep within Alhaitham's chest. He clears his throat, feeling his cheeks warm slightly.

“How dumb of us, then. Why would I want something to read so late at night in the first place?”

“Of course it's like you not to remember how snobbish you used to be. You were always on the verge of a tantrum if you couldn't get what you wanted.”

Truthfully, Alhaitham can't remember anything the man is saying, as if he is talking about memories that don't exist. He mulls over his response for a second, wondering how to go about this without raising suspicion. From the way he speaks of them, they've known each other for many years, and although he has a faint inkling of recognition, he can’t remember anything that supports the fact. Still, he tries. “I don't suppose that’s where you came in to reel me in?” He finally settles on saying (and is surprised when it feels teasing coming out of his mouth.)

He's rewarded by the look he sees on the boy's face. It's far too dark to discern any colour changes on his skin, but Alhaitham can easily imagine a soft pink blush coating his cheeks, and it draws a soft smile out of him. “You're so..!” The blonde splutters, clearly flustered and poorly hiding his expression behind the book which he quickly opens.

The chuckle that's pulled out of Alhaitham's chest feels like something he couldn't control if he wanted to. He finds he doesn't mind the thought. He leans against the boy, waiting as he composes himself. “You're so insufferable. You haven't changed one bit.” He mumbles under his breath, moving the book from his face.

“Now, keep quiet and let your Senior read this book for you.” He sits tall, regaining his smile as he turns to the first page of the book, opening his mouth to read the opening line.

__

Alhaitham awoke slowly. He felt more than registered the warmth of sunlight on him, tickling his skin and casting the room in a light that he could see behind his eyelids. A faint feeling of contentment stayed in the air, phantom touches lingering against his palm that left him fuzzy. And for a second, Alhaitham remembered the stranger's voice ringing in his ears, lulling him to sleep in the middle of the empty library, but opening his eyes wiped the image away.

He groaned, turning over in bed to dig himself into his pillows, face scrunched up as he tried once more to recall lost memories. It proved futile, and Alhaitham sighed, resigning himself to another dozen hours in a chair much too stiff for his back.

When he left his room, it was to a view of Kaveh, a hand in his hair with papers and blueprints strewn about the coffee table. As he got closer, Alhaitham noted his rumpled clothes and the hairpins left haphazardly in his hair. The sight had a knot forming in his stomach.

“I thought you'd know better than to stay up the whole night working, Kaveh.” Alhaitham said in place of a greeting, raising an eyebrow at the flinch he received in return. He observed as Kaveh dropped his face into his hand, likely regaining his composure (or forcing himself to stay awake, maybe). “.. Is it already morning?” Kaveh forced out through a yawn, dropping his hands from his face and turning around to look at Alhaitham. He looked just as bad as Alhaitham imagined he would, eye bags heavy with stress and sleep deprivation - his skin much paler than it had been the day prior too. And even despite knowing what he'd see, Alhaitham's eyebrows still furrow with worry. He'd been getting better, right?

“It's been a while since you've pulled an all-nighter. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were reverting to your old, destructive habits.” Kaveh flinched again at that, tensing at the mention. It was uncalled for, a topic they both knew shouldn't be brought up again, but Alhaitham's brain was still fuzzy from sleep, and he had been getting tired of wondering what ailed Kaveh's sleep so much and how it concerned him (why it had Kaveh reaching so desperately to him, but closing himself off almost feverishly).

He sighed deeply. “I'll make us breakfast.” He said in place of an apology. The house was quiet when he trekked up to the kitchen, as it'd come to be with whatever had been happening to Kaveh as of late. He’d done a good job at hiding the probable unhealthy amount of caffeine he'd consumed in the past few hours, but Alhaitham caught sight of the four mugs still drying on the dish rack all the same. He frowned but said nothing. The Scribe prepared a simple breakfast, forgoing brewing coffee for a simple cup of tea. He'd heard this specific herb helped with sleep and stress, and Kaveh was the one to buy it, so he found it fitting to boil a cup for the man who seemed to have rejected sleep altogether.

Alhaitham was deep in thought as the water boiled. He was sure that Kaveh was having dreams too, as was all of Sumeru at the moment. The topic was heavily understudied, but he remembered reading about the intricacies of negative dreams. Ones that were an amalgamation of fears held deep within a person’s heart. Some said it was the work of higher power, but there was nothing to back up those claims. Either way, it was not something Alhaitham had experienced himself, so he couldn't be sure yet of its legitimacy.

But…

If it were true, it could coincide with Kaveh's rapid decline in health. Though he could only imagine what part he had to play in Kaveh's dreams and how he only ever seemed to calm down once Alhaitham was in sight, and that pointed to something else that bred a whole other canned worm of questions that he didn't quite feel like exploring just yet. Disregarding his thoughts, he pulled out a pair of mugs from underneath the table, pouring in the steaming water and a tea bag for each one. He let the tea settle, taking the dish of food and mug with him and placing it on the table near where Kaveh sat.

Kaveh had already packed his papers neatly to the side, muttering a small thanks for the meal. He ate quietly, taking small sips of tea between every few bites. Alhaitham stayed seated by his side, watching to make sure he finished his food, despite the ticking timer in his head reminding him of where he had to be. When Kaveh pushed the empty plate to the side, it was with little energy. Alhaitham mentally reminded himself to thank the Traveller for introducing the tea to them when Kaveh all but fell against his frame, thanks on his lips when he finally succumbed to sleep.

When Alhaitham was sure Kaveh was asleep, he gathered him in his arms, careful not to disturb his rest. He stood carefully, en route to Kaveh’s room when he remembered the reason for his refusal to sleep. It wouldn't do good to send him back to the place that he'd been avoiding, not if Alhaitham actually wanted Kaveh to get proper rest. At that thought, another, admittedly dumb, one trickled in. A standard that came with Kaveh's night terrors was that he only calmed down when Alhaitham was in sight. Perhaps…

Alhaitham looked to the direction his room was, and his mind went through all the logical fallacies his brain was churning out, but he ultimately decided to go with his idea. Maybe Alhaitham's room would help keep him calm; being surrounded by his scent…

Alhaitham fully ignored the fault in his reasoning for once (taking care not to give thought to the heat crawling up his neck) and walked to his room. He placed Kaveh onto his unmade bed, grateful that he had the foresight not to make it earlier, and paused at the sight.

Alhaitham was never really one for intimacy.

He was mostly reserved as a child, and only socialised when needed to. Because of that, he never had what people would consider to be a normal childhood. He stayed indoors with his nana, read his books, and learned to write while others were out playing and interacting with others in ways Alhaitham never knew how to.

Suffice to say, Alhaitham never cared to let people close enough to feel intimate with them, but here, with Kaveh stretching himself over Alhaitham’s bed and snuggling into his covers and pillows - the very same pillow Alhaitham had dug himself into not even an hour ago - stirred a feeling in his chest. It felt sickly sweet, pouring itself into all the crevices and cracks of Alhaitham. The feeling spread quickly, warmth melting his skin and making him feel like putty.

He mostly associated that feeling with Kaveh. The same way he felt something akin to comfort when Kaveh was near. Sitting near each other. Discussing different topics and ideas, arguing over said ideas. Staying late at night in the Akademiya library to finish incomplete assignments and the like. All these memories, these recollections - they all have Alhaitham feeling (a feeling that despite being multilingual, he’s never been able to name) as if he'd never want to be anywhere else.

Unfortunately for him, he'd be lucky to make it to work in time if he were to leave now. He almost didn't want to go, but thinking of how fast the papers on his desk piled up and how annoying some researchers could get, he decided against it. He wouldn't want anyone knocking on his door because of his absence. He stole one more glance at Kaveh - which lasted far too long to be just a glance - before pulling himself away.

He traded his shoes by the door for his outside ones and forced himself not to dwell any longer. Needless to say, he's late for work.
__

When Alhaitham sleeps, he finds himself adorned in his old Akademiya uniform. He's sitting on a chair in the far corner of the House of Daena, close enough to the walls to hear the pitter-patter of rain from outside. He's halfway through paging through a book, and he pauses to take hold of his surroundings. A frown falls on his lips, and a faint feeling of dread settles heavily in his stomach. He chooses to ignore it in favour of reading where he last thinks he left off in the book.

The next few minutes pass by fitfully, long and painfully slow when he hears a soft set of footsteps approach his table. Looking up, he sees a boy (a man?) he has no recollection of but knows so intimately. His stance is unlike himself– fatigued and fraying on the edges. Alhaitham doesn't exactly know him, but he knows this isn't a look he wears often, or at all. The bags under his eyes are prominent, his braids are loose and the smile Alhaitham can swear is ever present on his lips is gone, and he just looks exhausted.

He settles across from Alhaitham silently, setting his bag down next to him. He stays quiet for a few moments, long enough to prompt Alhaitham to return back to his book. The silence feels almost deafening, spreading throughout the entire library and crushing any semblance of comfort Alhaitham had prior.

“.. They quit.” The young man across from him whispers. Alhaitham was sure he wouldn't have caught the words if he hadn't had all his attention on him already. He looks up from his book and almost wishes he hadn't.

The blonde looks defeated, looking only at the table as if he's scared he'll be faced with disappointment. His teeth gnaw furiously at his bottom lip, and he fidgets with his hands from underneath the table.

“Go on.” He continues, louder this time. “Tell me you knew this would happen.”

Alhaitham just stares on, unsure of what to do. He's likely missing all of the context to this, and he can't come up with anything to say, for once. It seems like silence is the worse option, when the blonde's brows furrow, looking up towards him.

He's tense, and there are hundreds of emotions flashing through his eyes. They flicker and clash against each other until they finally settle on anger. “You told me the project was far too complex and the other members wouldn't be able to keep up. I disagreed and I took their side. I was wrong, why aren't you telling me I was wrong?” Alhaitham is at a loss for words. The man, whatever he hopes to hear, will only serve to further hurt him. He isn't sure what he can say that won't hurt him regardless of the fact.

He tries anyway. “I won't say anything you don't already know yourself.”

This only seems to anger him further, standing up to loom over Alhaitham. “But you were so ready to judge my decisions to help them? Where is that willingness now, Alhaitham.” He's shaking, pressing his palms onto the table to hide it.

“I... I failed.” He says dully. It's that sentence alone that kills all the anger from his system, and he slumps down back into his chair. Alhaitham finds himself wishing he stayed angry instead of this.. emotion that's stirring in him.

“It's..” he pauses, ”You made a mistake. And you realised you made a mistake. That is all that matters.”

“Is that all you have to say?” The blonde says a little incredulously.

“You already know what you've done wrong. As long as you continue forward with the new knowledge you've acquired, then I see nothing else there is to say.”

The man just hides his face in his hands, seemingly not hearing his words. He looks older like this, not like someone who's soon to graduate. He pushes out, “This was a mistake. I made such a huge mistake.”

The words, sounding helpless, dig a deeper hole in Alhaitham's chest, as if already knowing what he was going to say next.

“I regret ever working with you, Alhaitham. We're too different for anything to have ever worked out between us, I…” He groans, the sound aggravated and wet. Alhaitham stares as he takes a shaky breath, focusing on trying to keep calm.

For all it's worth, the man gains his composure with startling speed - though it still feels like a cover-up. He regards Alhaitham with a cool eye, but there's a slight shiver to his hands - a shake so minute the elder teen could barely pick up.

“Please remove my name from the thesis.”

Alhaitham was prepared, but for the wrong reasons supposedly, as he still startles when it's said. The reality quietly sets in that this may be the last time he sees the man in front of him. That if he leaves now, it would be the last time Alhaitham would see him, possibly ever. It is a thought that doesn't sit well in his stomach. The idea of moving on with life without him, despite still knowing him as a stranger. It's a thought that scares him more than he thought it ever would. He jumps in quickly and without thought.

“Be rational about this. Just because you feel guilty for a matter you could not control doesn't mean you should throw away this thesis too.”

“You don't understand!... You won't ever understand– Archons you're far too deep in your own head to ever understand.” He stresses, looking like he's come to an epiphany. Alhaitham desperately wants to know what that epiphany entails.

“Calm down, getting aggravated won't solve any of our problems.”

“Alhaitham.” His restless gaze meets him, unnaturally sharp and a little wild. “You don't get to tell me to calm down. Where were you when our other members needed help? You decided they wouldn't be able to keep up, but you never once stood up to help them either. Was it to stroke your ego more? Get a little laugh because look how dumb they are and how smart you are compared to them.”

Alhaitham frowns, feeling the strike hit a chord. “What of you, then? You had given all of yourself to make sure they could keep up with a project that was well out of their skill. Did you do that just to add another stroke to your saviour complex?” It would probably be wise to stop himself now, and try to fix whatever was already breaking, but Alhaitham felt such a visceral need to continue speaking. To say what's been on his mind for years.

“All you ever do is help others with no care for how much you leave for yourself. Where has that left you now?” At this point, words tumbled out of his mouth with little to no accord. Sentences formed from thoughts he didn't even know he had, but the sting of irritation blurred his filter, picking every thought he'd seemingly had and transforming it into words meant to hurt and break the recipient.

The man fumes, clearly touched. “Alhaitham -”

“No, let me finish. Your beliefs are far too idealistic, and will never be the reality you so wish for it to be. You are constantly hurting and chipping away at yourself in hopes of pleasing just the one person. You are actively hurting yourself, and for what? All because of a guilt you deem is unforgivable, and you gave yourself punishment. You expect the world of yourself, yet nothing of others. When are you going to rest?!”

Alhaitham's voice gradually began to rise as he went on until his voice resonated throughout the entire library. All that was left in its wake was piercing silence and Alhaitham's shallow breaths. In this quiet, he could calm himself down and take a proper look at the man.

He looks shattered, eyes wide and glassy. Hurt is written so clearly all over his face that Alhaitham can't help but stagger, truly realising the graveness of his words. But he doesn’t speak, doesn't try to rectify anything. He's said what he needed to say, and they all came from a place of truth. Words from years of observation - memories so clear and true now-, tightly strewn together and delivered in possibly the harshest way Alhaitham could have ever said them, but true nonetheless. It’s this sudden recollection of memories that settles the hurt deep into his bones. Because of course he's managed to get into an argument with Kaveh, the only person he'd ever felt close to, sans his Grandma. Of course he's managed to annoy him too, like he has every other person under the sun.

It doesn't hurt any less, when Kaveh wordlessly grabs his bag from the floor, taking out a copy of the thesis they'd been working on. Sparing it a glance served to further pierce Alhaitham's heart.

“.. Please remove my name from the thesis.”

“... Kaveh.”

A resounding rip is heard throughout the library before he could continue. Alhaitham flinches at the sound.

“You're too.. I can't - I can't do this anymore. Gods, I wish we'd never met, Alhaitham.” His voice wobbles with the strain to push out his words, and he spares Alhaitham one last glance, letting the pieces of paper float from his reddened palms down to the ground. It feels final, a painful end to an era. Alhaitham watches helplessly as Kaveh walks away. His lips tremble minutely, clenching his hands at his sides to stop himself from saying anything more. He stands frozen as Kaveh walks out of his life.

__

Alhaitham awoke slowly.

He doesn’t yet attempt to shift from bed, merely blinking his eyes open. It was still dark, the peaks of sunlight barely making itself known in the corner of his room.

For once, getting up felt pointless. Where had he gotten the energy to get up before? His bones felt too heavy where they sank deeper into the mattress. His eyes wandered pointlessly around the room, unable to pick out the details of its interior but still trying to. He lost the fight not long after, resigning himself back to another few hours of sleep before trying again.

The next time he woke, the sun was shining brightly through the curtains and piercing Alhaitham's vision. He groaned, turning around and staring aimlessly at the wall of his bedroom. The feeling that kept him glued to his bed hadn't dimmed and seemed to have grown. Regardless, he forced himself to get up after a few minutes, feeling a tingle in his bladder.

The next few minutes blurred by, Alhaitham blinking slowly at the pot of water boiling, trying and failing to reorient himself. His mind flashed with images of before, when he’d felt content with his life with Kaveh - when he'd still been around. Archons, how many weeks has it been? How many years has it been? How was he expected to continue like this?

He thought back to his time with his nana, and how simple life was then. When he was too young to understand people's perception of him - when he was too young to care. “You're deserving of love, Haitham.” she would say, sitting him on her lap. “You will find someone to love.” She had said, even when he didn't know his parents, even though he had had no friends. “You will find someone who loves you too.” Even when she was all he had, she spoke the words with such truth and conviction that Alhaitham had no choice but to believe them.

And he did find someone to love, he came to realize. He had someone who he could see himself loving. Kaveh was that person to him, and he threw it all away. Alhaitham blinked, and he saw Kaveh's hurt expression. He would shut his eyes tight, and see him walk away. And he can't help but think how this wouldn't have happened if he wasn't who he was—if he had been more emotionally sensitive like Kaveh, if he had understood people's emotions better—if he had understood Kaveh better.

Alhaitham flinched at the whistling piercing his ears, and he shut the stove off, moving the kettle to another plate. He realised belatedly that he felt numb, and he clenched his hand to return some feeling into them, heaving out the breath he'd unknowingly held in.

The Scribe took his time to regain his senses, blinking against the moisture pooling his vision. It wouldn’t help to dwell on the past. He gets the faint feeling none of this is real, anyway. There's something he's missing, an integral thing that's slipped away from his fingers. He tries to latch on, unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the gap of memory. He felt like Kaveh was still here. He was here, wasn't he? A part of Alhaitham knew he hadn't gone. But he had left, Alhaitham watched him leave with his very own two eyes. He couldn't fool himself into thinking otherwise.

But…

The sound of a door creaking open jolted Alhaitham out of his thoughts, and he grew tense immediately. All noise faded away to the lazy pitter-patter of footsteps sounding against the wood floors, and for a jarring moment Alhaitham thought there was a stranger in his house, but… he recognized those footfalls, the rhythm of it, and he stuttered in his movements, pushing himself off the counter and rounding the corner to make sure. Make sure he hadn’t been going crazy.

And there he was, palm pressed against his eye as he suppressed a yawn. His hair was messy with sleep, deep red lines on the side of his face that suspiciously took the shape of a stencil– but it was him. Kaveh was there. He, who noticed Alhaitham's presence and made eye contact, and Archons.

Alhaitham stared in silent shock at Kaveh's figure. For a second, he had forgotten what it was like to live with Kaveh, to have a part of him so thoroughly empty that some days he couldn't even find it in him to get up. Quietly, his brain filled in the details he had missed.

It was a dream.

The dream - nightmare, had felt so realistic that Alhaitham had almost thought it nothing but truth. But here, Kaveh was staring at him with increasing worry, his brows creased in concern. Alhaitham didn't think he could muster any words, he felt like he'd break if he even attempted.

So wordlessly, he trudged up to Kaveh and pulled him in for a hug, tucking his head in his neck and breathing. Immediately, the scent of padisarahs and lavender overwhelmed his senses. It was so intrinsically Kaveh that Alhaitham took a shuddering breath, holding the architect closer to him.

At the back of his mind, Alhaitham registered a feeling of embarrassment at being fooled by a dream, of all things, but it was hard to concentrate on that when Kaveh tentatively wrapped his arms around him too, squeezing just as tight. Tears blurred his vision, and Alhaitham let out a deep breath at the touch. They stayed like that, wrapped around each other in the kitchen's entrance.

“..Alhaitham?” came Kaveh’s tentative voice, breaking the fragile silence between the two. “Are.. you okay? Did something happen?”

He sounded so worried about an issue that... admittedly, did concern him. But he didn’t feel deserving of such, not when he would chastise Kaveh for feeling such a way to other people. Archons, Kaveh kept up with so much of his nonsense, was there a limit to how much more he could take? Before he had enough? Did he want to test that fate, if it meant there was a chance for Kaveh to leave again? He couldn’t. Kaveh left him once before, he won’t give him a second chance to.

And with that, he released his grip on the architect, a sorry on his lips as he wiped his eyes for tears yet to shed. He avoided eye contact as he spoke, “Ignore all of that. It was all just a bad dream.”

He doesn't look up when he takes a step back away from him, eyes staying on the floor to avoid the surely inquisitive, judging gaze of Kaveh. “I’ll.. I should get going.” With that, he excuses himself.

He takes quick, measured steps to his bedroom, speeding to get his work clothes on to get out the house as soon as possible. He ignores the eyes that follow him, and acts like he can't see Kaveh standing in the same spot he’d left him when he leaves the house.

Chapter Text

For as long as he'd remembered, Kaveh had always been self-sacrificing. It's not the exact word he'd use to describe himself normally, but it was hard to lie to himself when the truth was so clear.

Even before his father's death, there was always a voice at the back of his mind that felt the need to prioritise others. Help the aunties with their groceries when it gets a little too hot, keep himself flush to his mother's side on the rare occasion she ever needed help in her many eye-catching projects, run around the market square with far too many errands for his too tiny body. To do them all before he could finally breathe and turn to his own needs.

It was less intense when he was younger, the hum of it so gentle that it never felt like a cause for concern to either himself or his parents.

When his father passed, the hum took on a far less gentle form. It buzzed underneath his skin incessantly, picking at his insides slowly but surely.

He gave away his time to help teach his peers through difficult questions (challenging to even him), gave too much of his mora away only to not afford a meal for the day, and spent his weekends taking care of his slowly deteriorating mother.

It was all push and no pull - pushing himself further and further down this hole with no clear way out. The drag down was constant, a consistent tug deeper. An ever-persistent thrum that felt piercing against his skin.

But it was fine... He was helping people. And his mom – bless her – was able to move on. She had gotten remarried, moved away and had left him behind in the ghost place that once felt like home. But he was happy for her. She had left him to pick up the broken pieces of himself he shed off for her, but she left to find peace that she couldn’t have with Kaveh in her life. And that was okay, really.

It had become a little more bearable as he could focus more on his studies in any case, more on himself and his dreams. He spent more days in the Akademiya than he did his own house, hoping to distract himself from the awkward quietness the place gave him – sometimes so quiet that he could hear the phantom sounds of mourning that used to be ever-present.

Then he met Alhaitham.

Meeting Alhaitham was odd. Not quite their meeting yet, he had been sitting in the library, in clear hearing range of the two students going off on a tangent about their dislike for him. At least, Kaveh thought they were talking about him. The boy himself seemed unaware – or maybe feigning ignorance was a better choice of words – of the two's chatter.

“He was disturbing the lesson like he was the professor himself! One of the worst classes I've had in a long time. We barely learned anything without the boy disrupting so much.” one complained.

“And you have to stay in that class with him for the semester? My condolences. He seems like an awful handful.”

Kaveh frowned, feeling a little offended on behalf of the boy. It was one thing to get annoyed by a student's… eccentricity, but to blatantly dislike the boy without even attempting to know him was so wrong! With a huff, he sorted the scrolls and books he was holding so they were at a lesser risk of falling, and took long strides to the two students.

“Hey, you two!” He called out, quickly getting the attention of the two. “Haven't your parents taught you proper manners? Where did you learn to judge so freely and openly about people you barely know? You may as well have said those words to that poor boy's face.” He chided.

“Oh, Kaveh!” one of the students paled in recognition. The other stood frozen, mouth agape as if their words got caught in their throat.

“People take to judging too fast nowadays. If you took a second to truly think, you wouldn't be one to talk either!” He finished with a puff, tilting his head up and looking down at them indignantly. The effect had its desired outcome and the two scrambled to apologise.

Kaveh sighed, letting go of his anger to wave them off (quite awkwardly as he was still holding onto his scripts). “Enough, I shouldn't be the one you two apologise to.” He looked them over once more and smiled, hoping to dispel the serious atmosphere.

“In any case, I hope you've learnt your lesson. I do need to get going now.”

He exchanged a few more pleasantries with the two revealed to be his juniors of the same Darshan and spared one last glance to the boy, who remained just as stoic as before, before taking his leave.

The next time he saw the boy, it was late at night, and Kaveh was on his way to return a few books that were just shy of overdue. He caught the boy in the corner of the library, paging through a book that looked larger than his head, with a few more open and scattered around the table he sat by. It was a little concerning to see him working so hard at such a late hour. So Kaveh ensured he quickly got the books signed in and back to their original spots before making his way to the grey-haired.

“Uhm,” Kaveh started lamely, hoping to get his attention. “Excuse me, isn't it a little too late to be working on a project? You should be heading home right about now.” The boy looked up at him, staring into his eyes for a few seconds too long to be appropriate, then glanced at something behind him.

“The library doesn’t close for another hour. I'm free to do whatever I want for that remaining time frame so long as I'm quiet.” He stated, sparing him no other look before going back to his book. Kaveh blinked, processing his words for a moment before frowning. “Regardless, it's not healthy to work so late when you should be resting.”

“Are you not here to work right now? Isn’t it hypocritical to judge someone for doing the same thing you're doing?”

Kaveh's frown only deepened, feeling irrationally touched by his words, what with how wrong they were. “Just how old are you? Worrying about -” he glanced down at the pages of his book. “.. what is it, the languages of - Inazuma? - 3 hours before midnight should not be a concern for someone so young-looking!”

“I don't see how that concerns you.”

Kaveh only felt his frown increase more. “Boys your age should be prioritising their health- you’re still growing after all..” The more he spoke, the more he felt like he was trying to convince Alhaitham that he was still a boy, instead of reminding. “You’re not much older than me. You should be prioritising your health too, according to your logic, but I keep seeing you running around so late trying to help people. Why?” And- wow.

That gave Kaveh pause. For one, it was the first time he’d seen him properly frown, instead of the usual bored expression he seemed so adamant about wearing. He almost looked cute like this, the frown petulant yet curious in a way only an Akademiya student could achieve.

He’d prefer seeing this expression accompanied by any other question than this one, though. It only took a minute of conversation, but Alhaitham had located and dug into a sensitive topic so easily. Kaveh winced, stepping back to put some distance between himself and the question. “That’s.. different,” He laughed nervously, looking away from him for a second. “Irregardless of the fact!!” He quickly cut in when he saw Alhaitham open his mouth. “I was just about to head back home, so let me accompany you to your dormitory.” The resounding sound of a book slamming shut filled the silence of the library, ending the argument in a fell swoop. Kaveh smiled at Alhaitham, his hand firm against the closed book as if saying to try to fight against it.

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes for a second– the wanted effect lost when paired with his very cute chubby cheeks, but ultimately let it go as he started to pack his books away in his bag. Now that he was standing, Kaveh could truly see how short he was compared to the blonde, only coming up to his shoulder. “Is this your first year here, by the way? How old are you?”

Alhaitham simply hummed, finishing tying his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder. Only when he made sure the bag wasn't at risk of slipping, he brought his attention back to Kaveh. “Thirteen.”

Kaveh’s eyebrows rose, “Oh, you’re two years my junior!” Kaveh noted with a small amount of glee. “I haven’t seen you around any Kshahrewar classes, what Darshan are you in?”

“Haravatat.”

“Mhh, that explains the book, I suppose.” The conversation teetered off to a standstill and Kaveh glanced around the view of the empty Akademiya halls. He took a turn down one, where the student accommodations were. He smiled a little awkwardly when Alhaitham kept silent, unsure if he wanted his silence or was okay with small talk.

“..I’ve been meaning to take an elective for a Haravatat class too– for one of the older Sumerian languages! My professor said it’s important to learn some of them early on if you want to study the architecture of some of the constructs in the Desert.” He continued with a little hesitancy, but found confidence the longer he spoke. “We haven't yet seen any of them in person, but the sketches I've seen in the textbooks make them look so pretty! Thinking about studying them in person fills me with so much energy.”

And so the conversation went all the way to the dorms. Kaveh found it surprisingly easy to keep up conversation with the boy as the awkwardness dimmed. Just when there was a lull by Kaveh's side, Alhaitham would ask a question that both reignited the flame in Kaveh and let him know he was actually paying attention to what he was saying. It was.. nice, unexpectedly. Especially so when the younger would add in his own knowledge on the topic (just how much did he know about language studies in his first year?).

Kaveh almost found himself frowning when Alhaitham stopped in front of a door. “I suppose this is your room?”

Alhaitham stared at the door for a few seconds, unblinking, before turning his head in Kaveh’s direction and nodding. From his view, Kaveh found the younger boy sporting a tiny pout on his lips, and had to physically hold himself back from cooing. How cute..!

“Well, I hope to see you sometime soon.” He smiled brightly, fondness already taking hold of him. How could anyone hold resentment for someone so adorable? He waved, and turned to take the silent streak back to his mother's house. “...Goodbye, Senior.” The reply came softly, but Kaveh heard it all the clear, waiting until he was a reasonable distance away to clutch at his beating chest.

His routine quickly changed after that. Kaveh hadn't realized how monotonous and predictable his life had become until he had to make room for the little study sessions (that more often than not devolved into harmless arguments) and the general tomfoolery that came with interacting with Alhaitham. Sometime after his father's passing, and well into his mother's psychosis, he hadn't even had the thought of clearing his schedule to make time for friends, much less telling anyone half the things he told the younger boy. (and the realization came with a short resignation of how lonely he had been - still was every once in a while.)

It was bittersweet to reminisce about, years into the future when that close bond he'd gained with Alhaitham had all but shattered.

Loath he was to admit, he'd missed Alhaitham terribly those few years they'd been apart. It became easier to deal with as the months passed, and as he poured his every thought and effort into building the Palace of Alcazarzaray.

But when he'd had nothing left to his name but the clothes on his back, and Alhaitham had reappeared back in his life with a gentle, welcoming breeze, it seemed that effort was all for naught when the loneliness slammed back into him like a wild Sumpter Beast, shaking (but not crumbling) his worldview with it once again.

He sometimes had to wonder why Alhaitham had said what he said, and offered what he did all those years ago; what had been going on in his head at seeing Kaveh again. In moments of weakness, he liked to think that Alhaitham missed him too. Nevertheless, their bond was tentatively rebuilt, standing shakily for the next few years that they'd come to live together.

It really was no wonder that it took these dreams to break that bond again, what with the large elephant in the room that constantly threatened to break the floorboards of their house– their weak foundation. Perhaps he and Alhaitham were never meant to be, in any shape or form they took, if they could not manage something so simple as communication.

Sighing, Kaveh focused back to what was in front of him. The papers he'd dragged out of his bag remain empty on his bedroom desk, calling for attention but remaining ignored. He held back another sigh and stood up from his desk, walking out to the kitchen to make lunch. Walking around while grabbing ingredients, his mind inadvertently flashed to the previous days where he'd make and deliver lunch to Alhaitham, but he was quick to wipe the image from his mind.

The idea of doing that now sent shivers down his back, both in trepidation and eagerness. He was starting to miss Alhaitham again; miss that temporary bond they'd had going on. How embarrassing, he thought, to let one man take control of his mind so violently, and to let him plant his roots there.

He had noticed an emptiness in the cabinets where groceries were running low, and reminded himself to go to the market later to restock. For now, he made himself a small meal, settling down on the couch and eating in the silent house.

The next day found Kaveh at the markets early in the morning, where the stocks were still plentiful and there was high chance to find something good. The vendors seemed happy to see him again, which did wonders on his mood.

“Oh Kaveh, I haven't seen you running around here for so long, I’d almost thought you went off to the Desert again.” said the vendor who he’d visit the most, the sun decorating her aged skin in freckles. She smiled warmly at him, gently placing another few fruits into his bag, patting his arm affectionately. “Ahaha, no. I was just taking a break from commissioning for a while.”

And what a break it had been. The stress he had far overtook any of the relaxing activities he’d taken to doing that past week, but he can at least say now that he feels more refreshed than before. “But I've resumed them now, so you'll see me more often.” Kaveh smiled, saying his goodbyes and deciding on which stall to go to next. As he strolled onto the next street, he heard a small commotion from down the road, and his brows raised when he saw Cyno intervening. He picked up his pace, curious as to what was happening.

It seemed everything was cooling down when he arrived, the person who had been yelling now escorted somewhere else by the Matra with their head held low. He waited by the sidelines for a few minutes until Cyno finished talking to each of the vendors present, and moved to greet the older man. “Hey, Cyno!”

Cyno turned to him, with none of the usual casualness in his posture. He looked like, in every sense of the word, the General Mahamatra; a line of tension across his brows and a dip set deep on the corners of his mouth. “Kaveh.” He nodded in greeting. “You’ve caught me at a bad time, I'm afraid. I can't stay for long.”

“I heard some commotion, what happened?”

“A woman came to the market claiming to buy sweets for her lover who had passed on last year, but she didn't seem to remember until one of the vendors asked about it. She says she had dreamt her lover was still alive, and believed such when she'd woken up.”

Kaveh frowned, “Oh no, that's awful.”

Cyno sighed a deep breath, as if agreeing. “It seems the resurfacing of dreams is negatively affecting many of Sumeru's citizens.”

“Has this happened before?”

Cyno nodded, “Many are reporting small bouts of amnesia after waking from a dream. It can and has led to serious cases, and is something we properly have to investigate now that it's occurring more and more.”

Kaveh kept silent at that, eyes wandering to where he’d seen the person get escorted to. Cyno looked back to his own group of men, and “I better be heading off now. We should meet to catch up over drinks sometime.” He offered Kaveh a smile, which at the least looked genuine, if not a little fatigued, before departing.

With that, he left Kaveh alone with his brewing thoughts.
__

Tighnari perked up from his seat on the ledge when he found Kaveh's hesitant form flitting around Pardis Dhyai, quickly calling him over. Once spotted, Kaveh smiled, jogging over to him.

“Glad to see you still know the way.” Tighnari teased as a way of greeting, pulling himself from the ledge and to the table and seats under the shade. Kaveh took a seat as well, rolling his eyes at his words despite the sigh of relief tearing through his body at a break from the sun.

The two settled quickly enough and were catching up with the soft chirps and sounds of the forest as a pleasant background.

“I'm a little worried about the resurfacing of dreams in Sumeru. A few Eleazar patients I've taken to have complained about certain dreams of a negative nature causing their symptoms to flare up. It's really lengthening their progress to recovery, and I can't yet think of something else to help with the nightmares other than a few medicines that could interfere with their prescription if used too much. It's a little worrying...” Tighnari admitted with a sigh, stress evident in his tense posture and the downturn of his ears. He fiddled with the ends of his tail, leaning further into his seat.

Kaveh frowned sympathetically, taking a sip of his tea as he thought. “It might be a problem with their mental health too. I can imagine how much trauma one can get from living with such a debilitating disease for most of their life, I wouldn't be surprised if I too started getting such dreams as a result. It might do you some good to get them help outside of physical therapy.”

Tighnari hummed in agreement. “Many of them aren't quite ready to talk about their problems yet, so it was an idea I didn't fully consider. But I'll be sure to keep it in mind.” He gave an appreciative smile, finishing his tea.

“Enough of that, though.” Tighnari shook his head, as if to dispel the somber atmosphere in the air, and looked at Kaveh with an upturned brow. “Have you had any dreams lately?” He asked, curiosity clear in his voice. “Any that stands out? Perhaps of certain people in your life?”

Kaveh narrowed his eyes at his growing smile, sensing something else behind it. He still thought of an answer to the question, nonetheless.

He's had many dreams in the past few months since the supposed ‘overtaking of the government’ that everyone says happened. They were something so obscure, yet so beautiful once Kaveh had started remembering them, all of the snippets of his life. For the most part, they had been peaceful - bittersweet maybe - but..

Kaveh winced slightly. “I've… They're..” He cleared his throat, looking to the view he had of the forest as he willed his voice not to betray his feelings. “They're quite beautiful, the dreams I've had. It's nothing like I've ever seen before.” He settled, not quite lying, but omitting the full truth.

“But..?” Ever the observer, Tighnari pushed for the unspoken but to his sentence, willing for him to go on.

“.. They've not been as pleasant as of late. I keep having reminders of a time I'd rather not remember be apart of these dreams. It's so frustrating. It's like I've been transported back in time, and it's so hard to discern whether it was a dream or not when I've woken up.” Kaveh groaned, hiding his face in the crooks of his arms to hide whatever turmoil was surely clear on his face.

“I feel like I'm going crazy.” He said softly.

That night was one of the worst moments of his life, and to have his memory constantly bring it up and torture him with it felt like such a cruel joke. Not even the passing of his father had made such an appearance in his dreams, an event that played in the forefront of his memories constantly.

“I just..”

‘I wish we'd never met’

Kaveh let out a ‘gah’ sound, sitting up and pressing the palms of his hand to his eyes in frustration, forcibly blinking away the tears that were forming. “It just had to be Alhaitham of all people!” he admitted furiously, forgoing the tiring act of omitting the truth to complain.

“I've woken up most days this past week feeling like my life has been shattered a hundred times over, and I have to rely on him to help calm me down - the same person who causes me stress daily!!”

Kaveh could feel Tighnari's calculating gaze on him, and he took a calming breath, forcing down his tears.

“I can't help but feel like the Gods are playing a trick on me.” He ended, sounding as miserable as he felt. But he couldn't break down this easily, and not in such a public place. With a huff, he pushed himself to sit up, about to wave everything off when he saw Tighnari’s eyes on him.

“I… hmm, how can I say this?” Tighnari started, head tilted curiously as he chose his next words carefully. “Have you ever heard of the concept of mated souls?”

Kaveh's brows raised at the question.

–
”There's not much to say about the validity of all this, but my family…” Tighnari paused again. Kaveh stuffed the need to bury his teeth into his bottom lip. He'd never seen Tighnari so hesitant to say something before.

“My elders often told stories about people whose souls had been tied to another from an early age. ‘A perfect half’, they would say - but I always chalked it off to folklore.” He pursed his lips. “Though, I found a few transcripts that told of the same concepts, dating back a few hundred years. They were described as a children's story back then too; to give a meaning to dreams about ‘random’ people they'd come to meet later in life. The dreams weren't ever described in detail, other than the feeling of reality in them. I even had…” He paused, seemingly fighting whether or not to finish his sentence.

“Regardless, what I'm trying to say is, It could be possible that you and Alhaitham share this relationship as well.”

Kaveh jolted out of his daydream at the sound of his pencil hitting the floor. He clicked his tongue, leaning down to grab it from the floor, and willfully ignoring any nauseating sounds his back made at the movement. He settled against the edge of the couch, letting out a sigh at the memory.

Surely that was just a child's tale, Kaveh thought. But if even Tighnari believed it might be real, then…

Kaveh closed his eyes in defeat, hiding his face inside the crook of his elbow. As if he hadn't had so much on his plate already. It had been over a week since Alhaitham was brought to tears in his arms. Had been a week since he closed himself off from the architect. Thinking back to it, he had recognized parts of himself in Alhaitham, saw himself in those eyes that shone with the almost sickening relief of finding out that a dream had been just a dream. He wasn't dumb enough to shrug off Alhaitham's odd behavior as anything else but that. He knew Alhaitham had a night terror, and he knew that he was involved in it somehow, but... His brows furrowed, hunching further into himself as his mind ran.

Was that how Alhaitham had felt, when Kaveh’s terrors had started? Did he feel worried when Kaveh snuck into his room, or ran out the hallway to check if he was still there? Gods, he was running himself ragged just thinking about this whole situation.

He hadn't even touched on what Cyno told him either. Many more people were going through the same thing he was, and from the looks of it, there was no plausible reason or cure. How many more would have to feel this way before finding some reason behind all of this? He sighed, reaching for his pencil again to resume his work. Now that he was taking commissions again, he’d been approached by three different people asking for help in drafting a house plan. He had only accepted one at the time, but the other two were insisting he rush so he could attend to their own projects sooner. Not that he would, but he could already feel his stress rising at the prospect.

He spent the rest of the afternoon in that position, finalizing the third draft for his first client.

He startled when he heard the front door rattle, and tensed all together when it creaked open. He spared a peak to see Alhaitham's form toeing off his shoes by the entrance, and turned around quickly when he stood. The atmosphere grew tense, and Kaveh forced himself to keep his eyes and attention on the papers in front of him and the pen in his hand and not on Alhaitham's quiet presence behind him. He practically held his breath until he heard the door to Alhaitham's room close seconds later, where he all but melted onto the floor.

…

This was getting unbearable. Can he not even face his own roommate anymore? He pouted, upset and irritated that he couldn't even find the courage to talk to the man himself, scared that doing so would just push Alhaitham to kicking him out of his house. It was a thought he'd kept pushing down, despite its attempts at staying at the forefront of his mind, and it did nothing to soothe his feelings. Putting the papers aside, he gave himself a minute to just collect himself and forcefully drag his emotions back into a tight box to seal shut again.

He found himself getting drowsy minutes in, and regrettably, fell asleep there with his arms folded and tucked underneath his head.

And he comes to in a restaurant. He's shaken awake by a hand on his shoulder, and a glass placed on the table he's claimed as his pillow. He blinks blearingly, trying to gain control of his alcohol-ridden senses as he looks around. His eyes follow the hand on his shoulder to its owner, and he blinks when he sees a face he'd thought he would never come across again.

He's marginally older now, his jaw cut sharp and the fat that had stuck stubbornly to his cheeks is gone. Kaveh's gaze follows the planes of his face in wonder, and eventually land on his eyes, that are narrowed to slits where he stares at Kaveh's disheveled form.

He knows he doesn't look very good. His clothes are a little dirty, overworn and creased just about everywhere. He's sure he looks displeasing to the eye too, eyes too sore to not have dark bags, and stomach a little too empty all the time to not have lost weight.

Thankfully, Alhaitham keeps quiet and doesn't mention his appearance, simply taking a seat beside Kaveh and dragging the glass closer to him. Kaveh doesn't say anything either, staring at the glass until he realises it's water in there, and reaches to take a sip.

The silence is palpable, thick with tension that can be so easily cut with a knife. He clutches onto the glass of water like a lifeline after he's taken a few gulps, unsure what to do next.

“Senior.”

It takes a second to pin the voice that's spoken down as Alhaitham's, and Kaveh has to reel back the sudden whiplash at how deep his voice has gotten in the years they've been apart. “... Alhaitham.”

They don't say anything else for a few minutes, simply drinking each other in. Kaveh, through his clearing mind, takes note of the new hair style Alhaitham has donned, much shorter than before and framing over his one eye. He stares, and he feels heavily ill-equipped to deal with this. He wonders what Alhaitham will say to him, if he's tracked him down just to admonish his actions further, now that he's been proven correct again.

He startles when a hand falls on the table in his peripheral, a little clumsily and loud enough to break him out of his trance. His eyes stay on the hand, brain fighting to catch his mind up to speed when Alhaitham speaks. “I heard you've completed the Palace of Alcazarzaray.”

Kaveh simply hums in agreement, taking another sip of water. He feels subdued, thinking the last thing he needed was for a boy who he’s known for years to come out of nowhere when he’s most weak and find a way to kick him down more. A quiet – but so loud– part of Kaveh's brain reminds him that Alhaitham hadn't really done anything to earn such vitriol, and he was just turning nihilistic. But he shushes it away, storing it far from the front of his mind.

“Congratulations. It looks nothing short of-”

“What do you want?” Kaveh interrupts coldly, keeping his eyes trained on the table and away from Alhaitham.

“I heard you'd sold all your belongings to restore the Palace after its incident.”

Kaveh burns with embarrassment at the reminder. Alhaitham didn't have to bring it up, and he certainly needn't say more. If he knew that much already, he’d most probably also been told that Kaveh had no place to go, left with nothing after having given his everything to the Palace.

“..Are you here to mock me?”

Alhaitham doesn't answer, and the silence emboldens Kaveh. “You predicted I would crash and fail, did you not? You were right– again. You can laugh in my face or whatever it is you're here for.” He hears himself repeating words said from years ago, but the anger with which they'd been said is gone, and he just feels tired.

“Is that what you think of me?” Alhaitham asks quietly, a voice that just barely bleeds hurt before it's covered by his next words.

“...Kaveh, look at me.”

And he does. He stares into his eyes that have only gotten sharper with age. He searches, and finds a million different emotions swirling in them. Not many of them are familiar to Kaveh anymore, age having dulled the blade that could carve out each of Alhaitham's emotions as easy as breathing. But he sees something, something that ties him again to the world, makes him feel like he isn't floating so aimlessly. And he feels the fight bleed out of his system.

It's then that he admits how awfully lonely he felt without Alhaitham. He’d covered the person-shaped sinkhole with sand and dirt and everything he could think of, but it did nothing to actually patch it, to heal the hole that had started with his father and exaggerated with Alhaitham– with his junior. How he’d missed him. How he misses him now, still.

He blinks at the man in front of him in revelation, and his face suddenly distorts. His turquoise eyes shift multiple shades lighter. It almost feels like a trick of the light, the way Alhaitham's expression turns soft, much unlike himself. Kaveh feels faint, which feels wrong to blame on the alcohol in his system. The atmosphere has shifted, his hairs standing on end when he realises with wide eyes that the change is coming from Alhaitham.

But it's too late, he can feel his head falling under, under, under, submerging into thick waves of water and drowning out everything else except the presence of Alhaitham. He feels drowsy, and something is trying to drag and push and pull him further from subconsciousness.

The last he hears is, “You must recognize that he loves you too.” says Alhaitham, in a voice and intonation that sounds nothing like him. In a voice that panics quietly.

And he jolted awake, pushing himself upright and off the couch with a start. He heaved a large breath, eyes glazed and confusion clouding his mind. His hands clutched onto a throw that had fallen off his shoulders and into his lap (which hadn't been there before) and he breathed out.

… What the hell?