[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.]
[ Even all these years later, Alhaitham doubts that Kaveh would allow him to ferry Kaveh's suitcase to his car himself. If Kaveh struggles with it himself, either from weakness or sleep deprivation, that'll be a different story and Alhaitham will definitely be taking it from him.
For now, he pushes in his chair and lets his eyes graze over the croissant box before he leads them towards the door. He even holds it open! He has manners sometimes. ]
I hope you're not just stubbornly refusing to eat the things I buy for you.
[ He nods his chin towards the box. The price of him being nice... ]
[Fortunately (for Kaveh), Kaveh's gotten too used to putting on appearances. Even if he was too exhausted to carry his suitcase, he would do anything not to show any more weakness than he already has; so, leftovers in one hand and suitcase in the other, he follows after Alhaitham without struggle. The true extent of his weariness probably won't be obvious for a few days--not until he's settled into Alhaitham's house, unable to maintain his state of constant vigilance any longer.
Until then, though, Kaveh's prickly, anxious. He feels like he's walking through the streets covered in the dust of his broken dam, as if anyone could look at him and know, as Alhaitham did, what a bad state he's in. It's a feeling that wars with his gratitude, and he plans to stay quiet on the way to Alhaitham's home, keeping his mouth shut until he's certain he knows whether sugar or poison rests on his tongue.
Of course, Alhaitham always has a way of jabbing him off-kilter, whether he knows it or not. His pleasant surprise about the door evaporates, and his expression flattens immediately.]
Really? Claiming credit for a service worker's nice gesture? I always thought you better than that, but this really isn't going to work if that's the sort of person you've become.
[He was embarrassed about getting this but now he'll defend croissant waitress with his LIFE]
Very abruptly, Kaveh speeds up, veering around until he can stop in front of Alhaitham and block his path. He stands, one fist clenched at his side, the other with a white-knuckled grip on his suitcase.]
No. Absolutely not. Do you think I'm an idiot? Is that what this is? Because if you just want an excuse to lord your precious intellect over me, then you can forget it. It's one thing for you to be looking for a housemate, and I won't pretend to understand what kind of twisted logic you followed to arrive at the conclusion that I'm a viable option--but I'll accept your decision, and I'm not ungrateful. But I am not some helpless vagabond who needs your pity, nor am I going to be some kind of--plaything for you to manipulate, or whatever it is you're plotting. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I won't have you racking up my debts just to hold it over my head later. If that's what you want, you can find someone else.
[Later, after a hot shower and his first proper sleep in days, he'll look back on this rant and feel overwhelmed with guilt. Later, he'll show remorse in quiet ways--tidying up, making coffee, little things he can do when Alhaitham isn't around to comment on it. But right now, anger and shame burn inside him; the idea of Alhaitham pitying him--or worse, manipulating him, promising him a home just to see how quickly he could drive Kaveh out of it--makes his skin crawl and his ears ring. It's not characteristic of Alhaitham at all, but it's been too long, and too much has happened since they were close, for Kaveh to trust his own memories.]
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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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[ Even all these years later, Alhaitham doubts that Kaveh would allow him to ferry Kaveh's suitcase to his car himself. If Kaveh struggles with it himself, either from weakness or sleep deprivation, that'll be a different story and Alhaitham will definitely be taking it from him.
For now, he pushes in his chair and lets his eyes graze over the croissant box before he leads them towards the door. He even holds it open! He has manners sometimes. ]
I hope you're not just stubbornly refusing to eat the things I buy for you.
[ He nods his chin towards the box. The price of him being nice... ]
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Until then, though, Kaveh's prickly, anxious. He feels like he's walking through the streets covered in the dust of his broken dam, as if anyone could look at him and know, as Alhaitham did, what a bad state he's in. It's a feeling that wars with his gratitude, and he plans to stay quiet on the way to Alhaitham's home, keeping his mouth shut until he's certain he knows whether sugar or poison rests on his tongue.
Of course, Alhaitham always has a way of jabbing him off-kilter, whether he knows it or not. His pleasant surprise about the door evaporates, and his expression flattens immediately.]
Really? Claiming credit for a service worker's nice gesture? I always thought you better than that, but this really isn't going to work if that's the sort of person you've become.
[He was embarrassed about getting this but now he'll defend croissant waitress with his LIFE]
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What made you believe it was a gesture from the waitress? I put in the order and she delivered it.
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Very abruptly, Kaveh speeds up, veering around until he can stop in front of Alhaitham and block his path. He stands, one fist clenched at his side, the other with a white-knuckled grip on his suitcase.]
No. Absolutely not. Do you think I'm an idiot? Is that what this is? Because if you just want an excuse to lord your precious intellect over me, then you can forget it. It's one thing for you to be looking for a housemate, and I won't pretend to understand what kind of twisted logic you followed to arrive at the conclusion that I'm a viable option--but I'll accept your decision, and I'm not ungrateful. But I am not some helpless vagabond who needs your pity, nor am I going to be some kind of--plaything for you to manipulate, or whatever it is you're plotting. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, and I won't have you racking up my debts just to hold it over my head later. If that's what you want, you can find someone else.
[Later, after a hot shower and his first proper sleep in days, he'll look back on this rant and feel overwhelmed with guilt. Later, he'll show remorse in quiet ways--tidying up, making coffee, little things he can do when Alhaitham isn't around to comment on it. But right now, anger and shame burn inside him; the idea of Alhaitham pitying him--or worse, manipulating him, promising him a home just to see how quickly he could drive Kaveh out of it--makes his skin crawl and his ears ring. It's not characteristic of Alhaitham at all, but it's been too long, and too much has happened since they were close, for Kaveh to trust his own memories.]
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