[Everything Alhaitham says is true--but isn't it always? Isn't that the problem? This is precisely what Kaveh couldn't tolerate when they were younger, and it doesn't sting any less now than it did back then. Before this moment, Kaveh would've considered himself more mature, more patient, tempered by harsh realities and the natural growth of adulthood--but the weight of Alhaitham's cool gaze bears down on him just as heavily as it always has, and each word wedges in the cracks of his already brittle facade.
It would be easier if Alhaitham were being openly judgmental. Kaveh would know how to handle that. But Alhaitham's cool, detached observation burrows under his skin, and Kaveh can't stop himself--words pour out of him before he's even begun to register what he's saying.]
What is it you want to hear, Alhaitham? Can you not live if you don't make me admit that I'm sitting here because I have nowhere else to go? That I have less than a hundred dollars and no possessions to my name besides what I've got with me? [His voice cracks, the tiniest bit--which is mortifying, but he's come too far to stop now.] If that's what you came for, then fine--it's true, and whatever else you've heard about me probably is, too. But before you say I told you so in that way you have, you should know that as miserable as this is, I would do it all again if I had to. Does that satisfy your curiosity?
[The coffee shop seems uncomfortably quiet once he finishes his speech; all too abruptly, Kaveh comes back to himself, and he shrinks back as if to divert the attention he's drawn from his outburst. He stares down at his hands and breathes, shaky and fragile. When he speaks again, it's much quieter.]
...Look, Alhaitham, I'm--I'm sorry if I'm wrong, and you came over here to... I don't know, catch up or debate. [Like we used to.] But I'm tired. I'm so, so tired, and I don't have it in me to oblige you. I truly wish I did, because I'd rather not think about how it's back to sleeping outdoors tonight, but... it's just how it is. So please, just...
[He trails off, uncertain. He doesn't even know what he wants to ask of Alhaitham, honestly--all he knows is that his heart is saying anything but this.]
[ all the while, alhaitham's expression hardly changes. he lets kaveh have his outburst, still leveling him with his sharp gaze and tuning out the eyes all around them. in the face of kaveh's meltdown, again the world is narrowed down to only them—only kaveh. every word of his has a sharp and silvery edge, his voice cracks, and his red eyes burn beneath his lashes.
then the fire dies down into smolders. kaveh curls into himself as if an arrow suddenly struck his chest, like a wounded bird felled from its place in the sky. alhaitham still quietly watches him, letting his brow smooth and his eyelids hang lower. kaveh isn't seeing it at all, but alhaitham looks at him with something like softness.
the rest of the cafe is quiet. then they begin to murmur and turn their heads and quietly slip back into their discussions. in the meantime, one of the servers returns from her break in the back room. she gathers two cups and saucers from the barista's counter, locates their table, and slides a cup of black coffee in front of alhaitham. when she turns to kaveh, she silently takes his empty cup and replaces it with the other one in her hand. on the saucer, a warm and flaky croissant is tucked beside the cup. if kaveh takes a whiff, he'll find that the drink is hot chocolate.
alhaitham pointedly looks down at his drink as he prepares to drink it. kaveh has remarked on how scathing his gaze can be. ]
You don't have to tell me your side of everything that happened. But I'm listening.
[ and kaveh will know what alhaitham means when he promises something like this. if he wants it, alhaitham won't try to speak over him, or rebuke him, or do anything but listen and wait for everything to boil over and spill out. at the same time, he runs the risk of kaveh rejecting his drink and his offer, calling them acts of pity. alhaitham wouldn't be able to entirely refute the accusation, but more than pity, there's a deeply personal reason why he can't let kaveh be. he gave up on burying it a long time ago.
something begins to flicker in his memory. he hears himself saying the words before they come out of his mouth. ]
And you don't have to sleep outdoors tonight. Not if you're willing to set away your pride for a moment.
[Perhaps if Kaveh had the capacity to accept generosity, he would realize what's just happened. As it stands, the server's approach startles him; he blinks in confusion, opening his mouth to call her back, to say excuse me, I think this is someone else's order--but she's already gone, and his voice is drowned out by the loud hiss of the machines.
By the time he turns back, a second, worse thought has occurred to him--that he looks and sounds so pathetic, she couldn't help but pity him. It's a mortifying thought, which means, of course, that his brain immediately latches onto it as the most likely option. It would, however, be even more embarrassing to make a scene about rejecting her generosity, so he reluctantly curls one hand around his cup, shoulders tight and head bent.
The truth does not occur to him. It does not even register as a possibility.
Normally, Kaveh would be a little better at keeping his composure. His facade doesn't always fool his friends, but it's usually good enough, or at least a sign to them that he doesn't want to acknowledge his own thoughts and feelings. Right now, however, he has yet to rebuild his walls, and his shame, turmoil, and misery are all too clear on his face.
Kaveh's not sure what he expected from Alhaitham after such an outburst. For Alhaitham to leave without a word, maybe, as Kaveh has seen him do to other people, or for Alhaitham to make some kind of judgmental comment, something not dissimilar to his usual critiques of Kaveh's dramatic, self-destructive idealism. He can't hide his open shock when Alhaitham finally speaks, his gaze snapping up from the cup and plate to search Alhaitham's face. He has told Alhaitham off for his expressions before, but now, it takes everything he has not to beg Alhaitham to meet his gaze, to let him dig past that carefully neutral mask until he unearths the judgment that he's certain lurks beneath it.
A maelstrom of emotions swirls through him, and at the center of it all, he feels something shift. It feels like something clicking into place, like tucking a book back into place on a shelf, all the spines in perfect alignment.
Kaveh opens his mouth, then closes it again. It is, of course, immediate instinct to pull back, to insist that he's not so incapable he needs his junior to care for him, that he only needs to take a walk and clear his head, and he'll have it all figured out in no time. That he's fine. But a greater part of him, the part that broke the dam only a few minutes ago, pushes against his chest and wells up in his throat.
Kaveh can't remember the last time he was fully truthful with someone. If he had to guess, though, he would say--it was probably with Alhaitham.
That was so long ago, though. Things have changed. Even Alhaitham, famously indifferent and unwavering, must feel the same.
With all of that in mind, there's only one thing for him to say, and it comes out in a whisper far weaker than he'd like.]
...Why?
Edited (not my stray keymash ) 2023-05-30 18:46 (UTC)
[ with his gaze concentrated on his coffee cup, alhaitham can only guess at kaveh's expressions, informed by kaveh's quiet gasps and the light, wet pop of his mouth as it opens and closes again. gathering snapshots of memory like pieces of a puzzle, alhaitham constructs images of kaveh in his mind's eye, from the bell-curve of his brow to the faint lines of his mouth as he grasps for dregs of dignity.
(some of the memories are unrecognizable, however. alhaitham must have forgotten these images until now, or maybe he summoned them in his dreams. there were a number of those dreams even before they went their separate ways, after all.)
kaveh falls silent, and a stillness drapes over them like a fog. for a while they steep in it—boats drifting in the center of a placid lake, away from the murmuring forest surrounding them. when kaveh finally whispers to him, alhaitham's gaze slides over to a corner of the table. responses fly through his mind, lightning-quick and striking true: because you'll never get back on your feet this way, and i know you and i don't trust you to take care of yourself on your own, and i can't see you be miserable like this and just walk away from you.
his chest stings, leaving behind an ache that he drowns in a sip of coffee. ]
I was going to search for a roommate regardless. Seeing as how you need a place to live, I may as well offer the extra room to you. We can negotiate terms for your rent if you're not able to afford the full amount every month.
For some reason, that's what his mind latches onto. Maybe because it's easier to focus on that rather than wading through all the complexities of their relationship--maybe just because it's hard to believe, given Alhaitham's general distaste for the company of others. Kaveh can't imagine that that's changed much, even though they haven't truly spent time together in ages.]
...You need a roommate? [He says it as if he'd misheard, because Alhaitham isn't the type to make these sorts of jokes.] Don't tell me you're lonely.
[It's a weak attempt at humor, an effort to slip past his embarrassingly open outburst. But it's also a gentle probe, an indirect way of asking, in turn, if Alhaitham is okay. Alhaitham has always been so straightforward, and Kaveh knows he would just answer, and wouldn't take offense, if Kaveh asked him outright--but Kaveh still values decorum and grace, and he'll protect Alhaitham's privacy even from Alhaitham himself. That hasn't changed.]
[ alhaitham looks at him flatly. after so many years steeped in friendship, there are still parts of kaveh that alhaitham remembers. diverting alhaitham's attention onto other matters was just like him, but that kaveh would use a tactic like this on someone he supposedly regretted ever meeting... that's beyond alhaitham.
bringing this up while kaveh is already in a bad way seems counterintuitive. so he doesn't. ]
The place is quite large, and it's a hassle to act as its only housekeeper.
[ not untrue! if kaveh will divert attention from the matter at hand—which is that alhaitham certainly wasn't looking for a roommate before this moment—so will alhaitham. ]
[Oh... of course. Now that makes sense, as far as Kaveh is concerned. A mutually beneficial arrangement--yes, that sounds much more like something Alhaitham would be looking for.
...Well. Hmmm. He's still suspicious, wary--something about this still feels like it's skirting the edge of charity, and some part of Kaveh instinctively cringes away from it. But at the same time, Alhaitham can probably see him slowly starting to relax. He buys the story, and he's clearly willing to consider an arrangement, so long as it seems truly equal... the door is barely cracked, but it's open.
Kaveh sips at his drink, contemplating. It doesn't escape him that regardless of how equal this ends up being, Alhaitham is going out of his way to do him a favor right now. It's only fair that he be as honest as possible, in case Alhaitham decides he doesn't want to deal with all the baggage Kaveh's carrying.]
...I don't know when I'll be able to pay you. [He hates admitting it, but he must.] Work has been sparse, and everything's gone to my loans lately. I--I will, of course, as soon as I'm able, but--I can't guarantee when that will be.
[ alhaitham knows the telltale signs of kaveh finally relenting to something, in the ease of his shoulders and smoothing of his brow. alhaitham only needs to wedge his shoe between the door and the frame. that would be enough to start with.
there's every chance that kaveh will decline, deciding that even at his lowest, he would never consider the help of someone as supposedly insipid and selfish as alhaitham. it would hardly be a surprise. for now, alhaitham can only lean back in his chair, cross his arms, and wait for his verdict.
his loans. the crack in the door edges a little more open. kaveh reveals more of his vulnerability, even stammering a little, heartbreakingly honest through his obvious shame. the worst thing alhaitham could do, he knows, is to treat kaveh like an object of pity; kaveh likely already thinks this. he doesn't need reinforcement. ]
Then until that date, I will ask you to take on all household chores and errands. Once you're in a steadier financial position, we can renegotiate your rent and how best to compensate for the months prior. This may need to be done on a case-by-case basis. I understand that as an independent contractor, an architect earns their funds by commissions alone.
[ except that even if kaveh insists on paying him back, alhaitham will never ask to be compensated more than a low-end percentage of what kaveh should be paying. maybe 20%. maybe 10%. ]
[It's... still generous, exceedingly so. It's more than he would have ever expected of Alhaitham, even if he's always known that Alhaitham has plenty of potential for kindness and patience and chooses to extend it sparingly. It's also certainly far beyond anything Kaveh deserves, and a rejection sits on the tip of his tongue for that reason alone. The idea of accepting Alhaitham's goodwill, even if it's not strictly charity, grates against his nerves. It makes him tense, uncomfortable; he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would be burdening Alhaitham for the entirety of his stay in Alhaitham's home, and he hates that thought.
But what other choice does he have? He already admitted to Alhaitham that he had nowhere to go and no money for a hotel. He's burned through all the other friends he could impose on, and he can't barter his way into back rooms forever. He doesn't think Alhaitham would insist on this, but Alhaitham would know that Kaveh is rejecting him out of some complicated tangle of pride and shame, and that's almost worse. Kaveh knows himself too well; no matter Alhaitham's actual response, it would bother him, thinking of Alhaitham walking around in the world with the full knowledge that Kaveh stood on the smoldering ruins of his life and behaved exactly the same way he had years ago.
His core beliefs are the same as they've always been. But he has changed--enough to know that turning away Alhaitham's offer would be foolish martyrdom, and he can't afford that. Not if he wants to keep actualizing his ideals.
Still, it's hard. He fiddles with his cup, reluctant, still oblivious to the fact that Alhaitham was the one who ordered it.]
...I'll keep track of the back pay. [He says finally. More firmly, this time.] As long as you tell me the interest rate, I can add it to my books with all the rest.
[It doesn't occur to him that Alhaitham won't charge interest, since he's only ever taken loans out from one person, and only under extremely complicated circumstances.]
And there are a few proposals I'd been meaning to submit to the university. That's why I'm in the area, you know.
[Besides the fact that this was his only option for not sleeping outdoors, of course. Kaveh's not even entirely sure why he's telling Alhaitham this, only that he wants Alhaitham to know that he's trying. That he's doing something, not just wallowing in poverty and self-deprecation. He can't stand the idea of Alhaitham viewing him as helpless or pitiful, even if it's more-or-less true.]
[ it happens instantly. alhaitham watches kaveh boredly as he makes up stipulations, and when he blinks, he's suddenly somewhere else.
it's past midnight, wherever they are—how he knows that, he's not sure. it's impossible to see the sky through the colored glass windows inside the tavern—and it is a tavern, judging from the pockets of people circled around tables, the sharp smells of grilled meat and sour beer, and the cups and carafes of libations being dispersed. at some edge of the floor, the owner of the place prepares skewers and charcoal cakes behind his wooden counter, filling orders placed by alhaitham himself.
because alhaitham is a regular here, as are many of the people surrounding him.
them, he corrects himself, because kaveh is here too.
kaveh still sits in front of him, exhausted and unsure as he swirls a goblet of spiced wine in his hand. his clothes are like a costume, a flagrant and overly-colorful reflection of something he would normally wear: long artist gloves, countless shining accessories, a deep red cape clipped by a heavy (and garish) metal brooch, and a single bluish feather tucked behind one ear. he speaks with kaveh's voice, acts with kaveh's gestures, and no matter what he's wearing or where they are, alhaitham can't deny that this is the same kaveh he knows—and they're both still discussing rent.
from where present-day kaveh sits, alhaitham isn't responding. brow furrowed and lips open, he just studies kaveh as if he suddenly became incomprehensible.
[Alhaitham is listening so quietly that if Kaveh weren't looking at him, he's not sure he would've noticed it happening. As it is, though, he sees the moment that something shifts in Alhaitham's expression--the moment his cool indifference slips sideways into a distant haze. It's not the same as the expression he wears when he gets caught up in his puzzles and his linguistics (and why Kaveh remembers that so clearly is something he'll think about another day), and it sends an inexplicable bolt of alarm through him.]
Alhaitham? [Concerned, he doesn't think before he reaches out, gently shaking Alhaitham's shoulder.] Alhaitham, are you alright?
sort of. maybe? does this count as waking up? he doesn't register the touch on his shoulder. he just blinks rapidly and suddenly he's in the cafe again, with the kaveh he remembers was initially speaking with. his eyes briefly dart over the cafe, taking inventory.
everything is how it should be. so what the hell just happened.
he shakes his head and then rubs his eyes with one hand. ]
I'm fine. I must have dozed off somehow.
[ and, because he needs to steer the conversation away from what just happened: ]
I've already had to reject many of Kshahrewar's recent applications for funding. Who knows? Maybe my conscience couldn't accept the possibility of having to do so with another one.
[The excuse doesn't satisfy Kaveh at all, and he opens his mouth to push out of concern, but just as he realizes he's still touching Alhaitham's shoulder, Alhaitham continues on with his words. Offended, he yanks his hand back with a huff, crossing his arms.]
Don't reject them, then! This has nothing to do with that! [HELLO!!! GRATITUDE RAPIDLY EVAPORATING]
good. that's better than him recoiling. alhaitham sips his coffee. ]
I'll decide if I should after giving a fair and reasonable assessment of your submissions.
[ he nods to kaveh's cocoa and croissant. ]
You should finish up so we can get going, unless you planned to stay a little longer. You'll be sleeping on the couch until I can clear my things from the other room. I was also going to order Thai food for pickup, so I'll need your order before we go.
[ARE JUST AS INFURIATING AS ALWAYS APPARENTLY!!! God. But the abrupt reminder that he'll be staying in Alhaitham's house douses his ire, and he bites his tongue against his complaints. He obediently picks up his cocoa and drinks, but the sullen look on his face is absolutely familiar.]
That's--you don't have to buy me food, Alhaitham, I'm fine. [He's been living off a much more restricted diet than he used to anyway, and he's already being such an imposition.]
[ Alhaitham takes a drink himself, though he watches Kaveh over the rim of his cup. He's bracing himself for the moment he's transported back into that waking dream, but it doesn't come. There's only a nagging sense of familiarity when he looks over Kaveh's sullen, exhausted expression, like he'd hoped to never see it again. Why does it feel personal somehow, like he's failed Kaveh in some way by not preventing his bad decisionmaking?
He tries to ignore it. He taps away on his phone again, drawing up a takeout menu. He's obviously not listening. ]
It's more convenient this way. You can go to a grocery store tomorrow. [ He offers Kaveh his phone. He's not escaping this. ] Pay me back for it later if you so desire, but I'm not expecting you to. ...When's the last time you had a proper meal?
[What are you, my babysitter? Are you going to tuck me in for a nap with a water bottle, next?
The annoyed quip sits on the tip of his tongue, but it feels too... personal. Too intimate, if he wants any hope of coexisting cordially with Alhaitham. They are, he reminds himself, essentially strangers now--even if Kaveh has already repeatedly slipped up, even if Alhaitham seems like he's barely changed since the last time they saw each other for any significant length of time. (In attitude, at least. His looks are another story, but Kaveh refuses to think about that.)
Caught between his irritation and his desperate desire to keep some distance between them, he caves in, snatching the phone with a huff and scrolling through the menu. YOU WIN, ALHAITHAM.]
I will, thank you very much. [It's a matter of pride, now, no matter how ridiculous it might be to get so hung up on such a small thing.] And we are in an establishment that serves food right now, if you haven't noticed.
[Anything is a real meal when it's on someone else's dime, in his opinion. He can feel the weight of Alhaitham's gaze on him, but he assumes Alhaitham's just watching him to make sure he actually orders, so, with a touch of spite, he picks the cheapest thing on the menu. Then, after a long moment of hesitation, he picks a side of crab rangoon--enough for them to split. Kaveh is his own worst enemy, part 2576584
That done, he hands the phone back, busying himself with his drink and his snack again for lack of anything else to focus on.]
There. Are you satisfied now, or do I need to present you with a detailed meal plan? [Okay maybe one quip. He can't help it, Alhaitham truly just brings out the worst in him simply by existing.]
[ HE WINS!! Alhaitham reaches and slips his phone back into his hand. ]
You didn't answer my question.
[ Being "in an establishment that serves food" doesn't mean that you've eaten a well-balanced meal with that food. He taps away on his screen and sends off the order, not thinking anything of the entree or crab rangoons except that Kaveh hasn't changed. Not his tastes, not his temperament. (Looks, though? Those have certainly changed in some ways.)
Alhaitham resists a smile pulling at his lips. ]
Anyway, your health is your prerogative from hereon out, [ a lie ] but I won't have you compromising both of our immune systems while we live in a shared space. That means getting some rest and regularly eating well-balanced meals.
[ He tips his chin down, looking sharply at Kaveh. It's obvious that Kaveh doesn't hasn't done this in a while. ]
[No, he did not, and he doesn't plan to!! Even though the enormity of what Alhaitham's doing for him sits heavily on his shoulders, Kaveh's need to present a self-sufficient image almost always wins out above all else. It doesn't matter that it's clearly painfully obvious to Alhaitham that he's struggling, that Alhaitham could know through logic alone that Kaveh has no stability, no way of ensuring any of these things. It's too ingrained within him to try anyway.
Even so, Alhaitham presents his argument well, and his points hit like perfectly aimed arrows. The thought of getting Alhaitham sick from his own poor habits makes his stomach curl, and he shrinks a little, feeling vaguely, inexplicably guilty.]
...Fine. [He sits quietly for a moment. He can't just sit around and let Alhaitham feed and house him, even if the housekeeping would be his responsibility. It still feels too off-balance.] I can cook, sometimes.
[ If infusing Kaveh with a little bit of guilt will make him eat and sleep, Alhaitham decides that it's a necessary sacrifice. He and Kaveh have traded blows before; as long as Alhaitham isn't needlessly kicking him while he's down, he will be blunt if it will make Kaveh listen.
Why? He asks himself that in the silence after Kaveh gives in, as Alhaitham sips his coffee. Why do this at all? Kaveh never would have wanted nor expected this from him. The fact that he ultimately accepted it means he really is destitute. There's no other reason why he'd let Alhaitham take him in this way, when it would debase him further.
But Alhaitham still offered anyway. He's prying open old wounds again, his and Kaveh's, all because a young version of himself can't stomach seeing Kaveh this way. He would've sooner gathered Kaveh in his arms and carried him home and slept at his bedside.
Don't think about it now.
Alhaitham just looks at him flatly. ]
Do you still use as many spices as you did back then?
[Kaveh's oblivious to Alhaitham's thoughts right now, too caught up in his own--but it's probably a good thing, because if he knew, he would only take it all extremely poorly. He would interpret fondness as pity and condescension, would slam the doors of his heart shut against nostalgia, the sting of their irreconcilable differences still too fresh to bear, even though it's been so long since they went their separate ways.
But then Alhaitham says back then.
Kaveh opens his mouth, but his reply is lost as the room seems to sway, his vision blurring. Fear skirts up his spine, and he worries, for a moment, that he really did manage to get sick, that stopping to eat and rest gave his body the opportunity to fall apart--but when he blinks, the scene around him his changed. It's like looking at two layered photos with partial opacity, greens and blacks and silvers and golds blending together. The din of the cafe doesn't change, but the sights and smells do, and... above all, Alhaitham does, too.
Something about this isn't right, he knows. But all Kaveh can do is stare, lost in this strange, hazy dream, at a loss for words.]
Alhaitham, with no way to connect what's happening with what happened to him, waits for a response that doesn't come. After a moment, he furrows his brow and searches Kaveh's expression for answers. He even glances behind him briefly, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. ]
[Alhaitham is looking at him, and speaking, Kaveh can tell. But it's impossible to parse his words when there's so much else to take in. The elegant, dramatic cloak he's wearing, the warmth cast on his hair from the lamplight--the only thing familiar is the look on Alhaitham's face, piercing and immovable. Kaveh feels utterly wrung out and more than a little drunk, but he knows, somehow, that this Alhaitham, too, is holding out a hand for him. That this Alhaitham, despite his imposing figure and inscrutable expression, isn't going to let him drown. And that's--
--Before Kaveh can make any more sense of it, the vision vanishes. The cafe filters back into his view just like normal, the very same food and drinks on their table and the Alhaitham he knows is still right there, dressed in perfectly normal clothes and looking at him with--well, with a understandable confusion, now. Kaveh lifts a hand, rubbing at his forehead.]
Huh? [...] ...Sorry. I'm--just tired.
[It's not like he's been sleeping well, after all, to say nothing of his stress levels. It wouldn't surprise him to hear he's approaching his limits, though why he'd hallucinate something like that is beyond him.
But, whatever. Eager to put it behind him, he picks up his cup and drains the last of his drink.]
[ Alhaitham is quiet a moment, studying over Kaveh's faraway gaze. A suggestion blips through Alhaitham's consciousness—that Kaveh's sudden silence feels familiar, not too much off from what Alhaitham experienced a few moments ago.
If that's true, what does it mean? The next moment, Kaveh downs his drink and excuses them.
Fine. Alhaitham breaks his stare, glancing towards the space beside him as he rises from his chair. His phone goes into his pocket. ]
[It's fine it's fine it's fine, nothing weird happening here.
Kaveh, though, is still under the impression that the drink and food were from the waitress, and he'd hate to waste anything, so he briefly excuses himself to grab a to-go box for the rest of his croissant. When he returns to Alhaitham's question, he hesitates, then shakes his head.]
...No. Not with me. [He did have the sense to save the money for a small storage unit in the city, but he's not entirely convinced that any of this is real--and even if it is, he doesn't intend on taking advantage of Alhaitham's hospitality for any longer than he must. So he doesn't mention it, for now; the less traces of himself he leaves around Alhaitham's home, the easier it will be for both of them.]
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no subject
It would be easier if Alhaitham were being openly judgmental. Kaveh would know how to handle that. But Alhaitham's cool, detached observation burrows under his skin, and Kaveh can't stop himself--words pour out of him before he's even begun to register what he's saying.]
What is it you want to hear, Alhaitham? Can you not live if you don't make me admit that I'm sitting here because I have nowhere else to go? That I have less than a hundred dollars and no possessions to my name besides what I've got with me? [His voice cracks, the tiniest bit--which is mortifying, but he's come too far to stop now.] If that's what you came for, then fine--it's true, and whatever else you've heard about me probably is, too. But before you say I told you so in that way you have, you should know that as miserable as this is, I would do it all again if I had to. Does that satisfy your curiosity?
[The coffee shop seems uncomfortably quiet once he finishes his speech; all too abruptly, Kaveh comes back to himself, and he shrinks back as if to divert the attention he's drawn from his outburst. He stares down at his hands and breathes, shaky and fragile. When he speaks again, it's much quieter.]
...Look, Alhaitham, I'm--I'm sorry if I'm wrong, and you came over here to... I don't know, catch up or debate. [Like we used to.] But I'm tired. I'm so, so tired, and I don't have it in me to oblige you. I truly wish I did, because I'd rather not think about how it's back to sleeping outdoors tonight, but... it's just how it is. So please, just...
[He trails off, uncertain. He doesn't even know what he wants to ask of Alhaitham, honestly--all he knows is that his heart is saying anything but this.]
no subject
then the fire dies down into smolders. kaveh curls into himself as if an arrow suddenly struck his chest, like a wounded bird felled from its place in the sky. alhaitham still quietly watches him, letting his brow smooth and his eyelids hang lower. kaveh isn't seeing it at all, but alhaitham looks at him with something like softness.
the rest of the cafe is quiet. then they begin to murmur and turn their heads and quietly slip back into their discussions. in the meantime, one of the servers returns from her break in the back room. she gathers two cups and saucers from the barista's counter, locates their table, and slides a cup of black coffee in front of alhaitham. when she turns to kaveh, she silently takes his empty cup and replaces it with the other one in her hand. on the saucer, a warm and flaky croissant is tucked beside the cup. if kaveh takes a whiff, he'll find that the drink is hot chocolate.
alhaitham pointedly looks down at his drink as he prepares to drink it. kaveh has remarked on how scathing his gaze can be. ]
You don't have to tell me your side of everything that happened. But I'm listening.
[ and kaveh will know what alhaitham means when he promises something like this. if he wants it, alhaitham won't try to speak over him, or rebuke him, or do anything but listen and wait for everything to boil over and spill out. at the same time, he runs the risk of kaveh rejecting his drink and his offer, calling them acts of pity. alhaitham wouldn't be able to entirely refute the accusation, but more than pity, there's a deeply personal reason why he can't let kaveh be. he gave up on burying it a long time ago.
something begins to flicker in his memory. he hears himself saying the words before they come out of his mouth. ]
And you don't have to sleep outdoors tonight. Not if you're willing to set away your pride for a moment.
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By the time he turns back, a second, worse thought has occurred to him--that he looks and sounds so pathetic, she couldn't help but pity him. It's a mortifying thought, which means, of course, that his brain immediately latches onto it as the most likely option. It would, however, be even more embarrassing to make a scene about rejecting her generosity, so he reluctantly curls one hand around his cup, shoulders tight and head bent.
The truth does not occur to him. It does not even register as a possibility.
Normally, Kaveh would be a little better at keeping his composure. His facade doesn't always fool his friends, but it's usually good enough, or at least a sign to them that he doesn't want to acknowledge his own thoughts and feelings. Right now, however, he has yet to rebuild his walls, and his shame, turmoil, and misery are all too clear on his face.
Kaveh's not sure what he expected from Alhaitham after such an outburst. For Alhaitham to leave without a word, maybe, as Kaveh has seen him do to other people, or for Alhaitham to make some kind of judgmental comment, something not dissimilar to his usual critiques of Kaveh's dramatic, self-destructive idealism. He can't hide his open shock when Alhaitham finally speaks, his gaze snapping up from the cup and plate to search Alhaitham's face. He has told Alhaitham off for his expressions before, but now, it takes everything he has not to beg Alhaitham to meet his gaze, to let him dig past that carefully neutral mask until he unearths the judgment that he's certain lurks beneath it.
A maelstrom of emotions swirls through him, and at the center of it all, he feels something shift. It feels like something clicking into place, like tucking a book back into place on a shelf, all the spines in perfect alignment.
Kaveh opens his mouth, then closes it again. It is, of course, immediate instinct to pull back, to insist that he's not so incapable he needs his junior to care for him, that he only needs to take a walk and clear his head, and he'll have it all figured out in no time. That he's fine. But a greater part of him, the part that broke the dam only a few minutes ago, pushes against his chest and wells up in his throat.
Kaveh can't remember the last time he was fully truthful with someone. If he had to guess, though, he would say--it was probably with Alhaitham.
That was so long ago, though. Things have changed. Even Alhaitham, famously indifferent and unwavering, must feel the same.
With all of that in mind, there's only one thing for him to say, and it comes out in a whisper far weaker than he'd like.]
...Why?
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(some of the memories are unrecognizable, however. alhaitham must have forgotten these images until now, or maybe he summoned them in his dreams. there were a number of those dreams even before they went their separate ways, after all.)
kaveh falls silent, and a stillness drapes over them like a fog. for a while they steep in it—boats drifting in the center of a placid lake, away from the murmuring forest surrounding them. when kaveh finally whispers to him, alhaitham's gaze slides over to a corner of the table. responses fly through his mind, lightning-quick and striking true: because you'll never get back on your feet this way, and i know you and i don't trust you to take care of yourself on your own, and i can't see you be miserable like this and just walk away from you.
his chest stings, leaving behind an ache that he drowns in a sip of coffee. ]
I was going to search for a roommate regardless. Seeing as how you need a place to live, I may as well offer the extra room to you. We can negotiate terms for your rent if you're not able to afford the full amount every month.
[ nailed it. ]
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For some reason, that's what his mind latches onto. Maybe because it's easier to focus on that rather than wading through all the complexities of their relationship--maybe just because it's hard to believe, given Alhaitham's general distaste for the company of others. Kaveh can't imagine that that's changed much, even though they haven't truly spent time together in ages.]
...You need a roommate? [He says it as if he'd misheard, because Alhaitham isn't the type to make these sorts of jokes.] Don't tell me you're lonely.
[It's a weak attempt at humor, an effort to slip past his embarrassingly open outburst. But it's also a gentle probe, an indirect way of asking, in turn, if Alhaitham is okay. Alhaitham has always been so straightforward, and Kaveh knows he would just answer, and wouldn't take offense, if Kaveh asked him outright--but Kaveh still values decorum and grace, and he'll protect Alhaitham's privacy even from Alhaitham himself. That hasn't changed.]
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bringing this up while kaveh is already in a bad way seems counterintuitive. so he doesn't. ]
The place is quite large, and it's a hassle to act as its only housekeeper.
[ not untrue! if kaveh will divert attention from the matter at hand—which is that alhaitham certainly wasn't looking for a roommate before this moment—so will alhaitham. ]
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...Well. Hmmm. He's still suspicious, wary--something about this still feels like it's skirting the edge of charity, and some part of Kaveh instinctively cringes away from it. But at the same time, Alhaitham can probably see him slowly starting to relax. He buys the story, and he's clearly willing to consider an arrangement, so long as it seems truly equal... the door is barely cracked, but it's open.
Kaveh sips at his drink, contemplating. It doesn't escape him that regardless of how equal this ends up being, Alhaitham is going out of his way to do him a favor right now. It's only fair that he be as honest as possible, in case Alhaitham decides he doesn't want to deal with all the baggage Kaveh's carrying.]
...I don't know when I'll be able to pay you. [He hates admitting it, but he must.] Work has been sparse, and everything's gone to my loans lately. I--I will, of course, as soon as I'm able, but--I can't guarantee when that will be.
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there's every chance that kaveh will decline, deciding that even at his lowest, he would never consider the help of someone as supposedly insipid and selfish as alhaitham. it would hardly be a surprise. for now, alhaitham can only lean back in his chair, cross his arms, and wait for his verdict.
his loans. the crack in the door edges a little more open. kaveh reveals more of his vulnerability, even stammering a little, heartbreakingly honest through his obvious shame. the worst thing alhaitham could do, he knows, is to treat kaveh like an object of pity; kaveh likely already thinks this. he doesn't need reinforcement. ]
Then until that date, I will ask you to take on all household chores and errands. Once you're in a steadier financial position, we can renegotiate your rent and how best to compensate for the months prior. This may need to be done on a case-by-case basis. I understand that as an independent contractor, an architect earns their funds by commissions alone.
[ except that even if kaveh insists on paying him back, alhaitham will never ask to be compensated more than a low-end percentage of what kaveh should be paying. maybe 20%. maybe 10%. ]
Does that suffice as a compromise?
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But what other choice does he have? He already admitted to Alhaitham that he had nowhere to go and no money for a hotel. He's burned through all the other friends he could impose on, and he can't barter his way into back rooms forever. He doesn't think Alhaitham would insist on this, but Alhaitham would know that Kaveh is rejecting him out of some complicated tangle of pride and shame, and that's almost worse. Kaveh knows himself too well; no matter Alhaitham's actual response, it would bother him, thinking of Alhaitham walking around in the world with the full knowledge that Kaveh stood on the smoldering ruins of his life and behaved exactly the same way he had years ago.
His core beliefs are the same as they've always been. But he has changed--enough to know that turning away Alhaitham's offer would be foolish martyrdom, and he can't afford that. Not if he wants to keep actualizing his ideals.
Still, it's hard. He fiddles with his cup, reluctant, still oblivious to the fact that Alhaitham was the one who ordered it.]
...I'll keep track of the back pay. [He says finally. More firmly, this time.] As long as you tell me the interest rate, I can add it to my books with all the rest.
[It doesn't occur to him that Alhaitham won't charge interest, since he's only ever taken loans out from one person, and only under extremely complicated circumstances.]
And there are a few proposals I'd been meaning to submit to the university. That's why I'm in the area, you know.
[Besides the fact that this was his only option for not sleeping outdoors, of course. Kaveh's not even entirely sure why he's telling Alhaitham this, only that he wants Alhaitham to know that he's trying. That he's doing something, not just wallowing in poverty and self-deprecation. He can't stand the idea of Alhaitham viewing him as helpless or pitiful, even if it's more-or-less true.]
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it's past midnight, wherever they are—how he knows that, he's not sure. it's impossible to see the sky through the colored glass windows inside the tavern—and it is a tavern, judging from the pockets of people circled around tables, the sharp smells of grilled meat and sour beer, and the cups and carafes of libations being dispersed. at some edge of the floor, the owner of the place prepares skewers and charcoal cakes behind his wooden counter, filling orders placed by alhaitham himself.
because alhaitham is a regular here, as are many of the people surrounding him.
them, he corrects himself, because kaveh is here too.
kaveh still sits in front of him, exhausted and unsure as he swirls a goblet of spiced wine in his hand. his clothes are like a costume, a flagrant and overly-colorful reflection of something he would normally wear: long artist gloves, countless shining accessories, a deep red cape clipped by a heavy (and garish) metal brooch, and a single bluish feather tucked behind one ear. he speaks with kaveh's voice, acts with kaveh's gestures, and no matter what he's wearing or where they are, alhaitham can't deny that this is the same kaveh he knows—and they're both still discussing rent.
from where present-day kaveh sits, alhaitham isn't responding. brow furrowed and lips open, he just studies kaveh as if he suddenly became incomprehensible.
he'll need to be woken up. ]
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Alhaitham? [Concerned, he doesn't think before he reaches out, gently shaking Alhaitham's shoulder.] Alhaitham, are you alright?
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sort of. maybe? does this count as waking up? he doesn't register the touch on his shoulder. he just blinks rapidly and suddenly he's in the cafe again, with the kaveh he
rememberswas initially speaking with. his eyes briefly dart over the cafe, taking inventory.everything is how it should be. so what the hell just happened.
he shakes his head and then rubs his eyes with one hand. ]
I'm fine. I must have dozed off somehow.
[ and, because he needs to steer the conversation away from what just happened: ]
I've already had to reject many of Kshahrewar's recent applications for funding. Who knows? Maybe my conscience couldn't accept the possibility of having to do so with another one.
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Don't reject them, then! This has nothing to do with that! [HELLO!!! GRATITUDE RAPIDLY EVAPORATING]
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good. that's better than him recoiling. alhaitham sips his coffee. ]
I'll decide if I should after giving a fair and reasonable assessment of your submissions.
[ he nods to kaveh's cocoa and croissant. ]
You should finish up so we can get going, unless you planned to stay a little longer. You'll be sleeping on the couch until I can clear my things from the other room. I was also going to order Thai food for pickup, so I'll need your order before we go.
[ taps away on his phone! ]
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[ARE JUST AS INFURIATING AS ALWAYS APPARENTLY!!! God. But the abrupt reminder that he'll be staying in Alhaitham's house douses his ire, and he bites his tongue against his complaints. He obediently picks up his cocoa and drinks, but the sullen look on his face is absolutely familiar.]
That's--you don't have to buy me food, Alhaitham, I'm fine. [He's been living off a much more restricted diet than he used to anyway, and he's already being such an imposition.]
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He tries to ignore it. He taps away on his phone again, drawing up a takeout menu. He's obviously not listening. ]
It's more convenient this way. You can go to a grocery store tomorrow. [ He offers Kaveh his phone. He's not escaping this. ] Pay me back for it later if you so desire, but I'm not expecting you to. ...When's the last time you had a proper meal?
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The annoyed quip sits on the tip of his tongue, but it feels too... personal. Too intimate, if he wants any hope of coexisting cordially with Alhaitham. They are, he reminds himself, essentially strangers now--even if Kaveh has already repeatedly slipped up, even if Alhaitham seems like he's barely changed since the last time they saw each other for any significant length of time. (In attitude, at least. His looks are another story, but Kaveh refuses to think about that.)
Caught between his irritation and his desperate desire to keep some distance between them, he caves in, snatching the phone with a huff and scrolling through the menu. YOU WIN, ALHAITHAM.]
I will, thank you very much. [It's a matter of pride, now, no matter how ridiculous it might be to get so hung up on such a small thing.] And we are in an establishment that serves food right now, if you haven't noticed.
[Anything is a real meal when it's on someone else's dime, in his opinion. He can feel the weight of Alhaitham's gaze on him, but he assumes Alhaitham's just watching him to make sure he actually orders, so, with a touch of spite, he picks the cheapest thing on the menu. Then, after a long moment of hesitation, he picks a side of crab rangoon--enough for them to split. Kaveh is his own worst enemy, part 2576584
That done, he hands the phone back, busying himself with his drink and his snack again for lack of anything else to focus on.]
There. Are you satisfied now, or do I need to present you with a detailed meal plan? [Okay maybe one quip. He can't help it, Alhaitham truly just brings out the worst in him simply by existing.]
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You didn't answer my question.
[ Being "in an establishment that serves food" doesn't mean that you've eaten a well-balanced meal with that food. He taps away on his screen and sends off the order, not thinking anything of the entree or crab rangoons except that Kaveh hasn't changed. Not his tastes, not his temperament. (Looks, though? Those have certainly changed in some ways.)
Alhaitham resists a smile pulling at his lips. ]
Anyway, your health is your prerogative from hereon out, [ a lie ] but I won't have you compromising both of our immune systems while we live in a shared space. That means getting some rest and regularly eating well-balanced meals.
[ He tips his chin down, looking sharply at Kaveh. It's obvious that Kaveh doesn't hasn't done this in a while. ]
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Even so, Alhaitham presents his argument well, and his points hit like perfectly aimed arrows. The thought of getting Alhaitham sick from his own poor habits makes his stomach curl, and he shrinks a little, feeling vaguely, inexplicably guilty.]
...Fine. [He sits quietly for a moment. He can't just sit around and let Alhaitham feed and house him, even if the housekeeping would be his responsibility. It still feels too off-balance.] I can cook, sometimes.
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Why? He asks himself that in the silence after Kaveh gives in, as Alhaitham sips his coffee. Why do this at all? Kaveh never would have wanted nor expected this from him. The fact that he ultimately accepted it means he really is destitute. There's no other reason why he'd let Alhaitham take him in this way, when it would debase him further.
But Alhaitham still offered anyway. He's prying open old wounds again, his and Kaveh's, all because a young version of himself can't stomach seeing Kaveh this way. He would've sooner gathered Kaveh in his arms and carried him home and slept at his bedside.
Don't think about it now.
Alhaitham just looks at him flatly. ]
Do you still use as many spices as you did back then?
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But then Alhaitham says back then.
Kaveh opens his mouth, but his reply is lost as the room seems to sway, his vision blurring. Fear skirts up his spine, and he worries, for a moment, that he really did manage to get sick, that stopping to eat and rest gave his body the opportunity to fall apart--but when he blinks, the scene around him his changed. It's like looking at two layered photos with partial opacity, greens and blacks and silvers and golds blending together. The din of the cafe doesn't change, but the sights and smells do, and... above all, Alhaitham does, too.
Something about this isn't right, he knows. But all Kaveh can do is stare, lost in this strange, hazy dream, at a loss for words.]
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Alhaitham, with no way to connect what's happening with what happened to him, waits for a response that doesn't come. After a moment, he furrows his brow and searches Kaveh's expression for answers. He even glances behind him briefly, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. ]
...Something wrong?
[ Please don't pass out or something. ]
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--Before Kaveh can make any more sense of it, the vision vanishes. The cafe filters back into his view just like normal, the very same food and drinks on their table and the Alhaitham he knows is still right there, dressed in perfectly normal clothes and looking at him with--well, with a understandable confusion, now. Kaveh lifts a hand, rubbing at his forehead.]
Huh? [...] ...Sorry. I'm--just tired.
[It's not like he's been sleeping well, after all, to say nothing of his stress levels. It wouldn't surprise him to hear he's approaching his limits, though why he'd hallucinate something like that is beyond him.
But, whatever. Eager to put it behind him, he picks up his cup and drains the last of his drink.]
Come on, then. Let's go.
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If that's true, what does it mean? The next moment, Kaveh downs his drink and excuses them.
Fine. Alhaitham breaks his stare, glancing towards the space beside him as he rises from his chair. His phone goes into his pocket. ]
Are there other suitcases?
[ He nods to not-Mehrak. ]
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Kaveh, though, is still under the impression that the drink and food were from the waitress, and he'd hate to waste anything, so he briefly excuses himself to grab a to-go box for the rest of his croissant. When he returns to Alhaitham's question, he hesitates, then shakes his head.]
...No. Not with me. [He did have the sense to save the money for a small storage unit in the city, but he's not entirely convinced that any of this is real--and even if it is, he doesn't intend on taking advantage of Alhaitham's hospitality for any longer than he must. So he doesn't mention it, for now; the less traces of himself he leaves around Alhaitham's home, the easier it will be for both of them.]
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