[Alhaitham may think it's the wrong answer, but in truth, there is no right answer here. Regardless of the validity of Kaveh's complaints about Alhaitham's bluntness and insensitivity, there is nothing Alhaitham can say that will fix what they've become. Kaveh is the one who has to choose--to trust, to forgive, to meet Alhaitham where he's been standing for so long, precisely halfway on the bridge over the gulf that lingers between them.
But doing something like that... how can he? How can he be certain the bridge won't collapse again? How can he trust himself not to set fire to it in another instance of short-sighted pain? And, worse--what if he dared to venture to the middle, only to find he'd misunderstood and Alhaitham was never truly waiting for him?
Our relationship is something of a mixed bag these days, he'd admitted to the Traveler once--more honest than he'd been to anyone in the UG, knowing that the Traveler wouldn't mention it, that they were detached enough to be a safe confidant. Talking with someone who knew them both, away on a commission and slightly tipsy to boot, was very different from being honest with people he was trapped with for weeks on end, especially when he'd spent most of that time half-certain of his own demise. He couldn't acknowledge the complexities of their relationship during the game because he couldn't stand to think about Alhaitham much at all, knowing they'd likely never see each other again. Never mind that he unconsciously sought out familiar traits in others, that Alhaitham's name fell out of his mouth left and right--that Kaveh himself proved, over and over again and contrary to his own claims, that they are inextricably intertwined.
Alhaitham is right--they're fine sometimes. Alhaitham harboring feelings for him is... another matter entirely, but Kaveh can admit, at least with Alhaitham sitting beside him and holding his hand like this, that it's true they can get along quite well. Alhaitham wasn't the only person who found a kindred spirit when they met, and the thrill of a verbal spar with an intellectual equal is something Kaveh has still only ever felt with Alhaitham. Not to mention the wonders they produce when they do work together--even now, Kaveh hears their thesis described as ingenious and revolutionary. Kaveh doesn't care about any of that, but he does remember the exhilaration of a breakthrough, the content exhaustion of long nights spent side by side in the library. Regardless of the other relationships he's cultivated over the years, romantic or otherwise, no one ever filled the void that was left behind when Kaveh walked away from Alhaitham all those years ago.
Alhaitham says he values their differences, that he doesn't think their arguments are insurmountable--and Kaveh knows Alhaitham well enough to recognize that it's high praise. But even so, Kaveh's mind whispers poisonous doubts: The existence of a load-bearing structure does not negate the weight pressing down upon it. A manageable burden is still a burden.
He doesn't pull his hand away, though. His fingers curl, very loosely, over Alhaitham's.]
It would be more valuable if you could go five seconds without insulting every decision I make. [But his grumbling is insincere, nothing more than a retreat away from the frightening depths of vulnerability in front of him and back onto familiar, solid ground. It hasn't been lost on him that Alhaitham's been kinder lately--still himself, of course, but not nearly as acerbic as before.
He's quiet for a moment; when he speaks again, it's with a light tone that is somehow both forced and fragile. Carefully, so carefully, venturing back towards honesty.] You claim our differences aren't insurmountable, but even our most productive debates devolve into "petty insults," as you say. Is it not said that the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions while expecting different results?
[ even the barest shift of kaveh's fingers is a good sign. anything is good as long as he isn't pulling away.
alhaitham treads carefully over their bridge of mud and stone, salvaged from the remains of their once great, intricate masterpiece. when kaveh returned from the game, it felt as though they committed to rebuilding what they had—laying a solid foundation, stabilizing shaky structures, creating a platform strong enough to carry their weight. it would never live up to what they had in the akademiya, but this could be something stable, almost reliable. that's what alhaitham thought, anyway.
all of that came to a halt those few weeks ago. alhaitham now stands at the center of that bridge, offering out his hand. kaveh has slunk back onto solid and familiar ground, waiting to be swallowed by the sea around him.
the situation isn't so dire. if this conversation doesn't end well, alhaitham can certainly press the issue again. it's the way kaveh speaks, voice shaken and unsure, that makes alhaitham hesitate. kaveh forgets that on the day their relationship (friendship? situationship?) collapsed, alhaitham was standing on the other end of their bridge, dropping his matchstick and watching the flames eat away at what they built. alhaitham is no architect, but he's still capable of building solid structures and tearing things down. ]
One cannot base their conclusions on empirical evidence alone. You and I have never interacted with different expectations for the outcome. We won't know that our actions would remain the same unless we gather proof that they will.
[ by testing it is implied. rather than being corrective, alhaitham is appealing in the way most familiar to him—with fact-based logic and reasoning. if it's interpreted as dry or insensitive, that's entirely unintentional on alhaitham's part, although the damage may already be done.
it doesn't end there. alhaitham lowers his voice, searching kaveh's face for any inkling of his thoughts. ]
Tell me why this matters so much to you. Why is it important that you prove Vash wrong?
[Why indeed? Because I can't be sure he won't say something to you that would ruin everything. Because I'm not actually sure what I believe anymore, and you and I both know that the surest way to affirm a stance is to defend it against a rebuttal. Because if he's not wrong, then that means everything you've done for me over the years hasn't actually been a mutually beneficial arrangement--it's something I don't deserve, after how I've treated you.
Normally, Kaveh would shut such thoughts down immediately. Long before the game, he'd decided--more or less subconsciously--that at the best way to coexist in Alhaitham's home was to simply not acknowledge the tattered state of their relationship. Of course, it quickly proved impossible to truly do so; they couldn't unlearn everything they knew about each other, nor could they erase the parts of themselves that sparked their conflicts. Not to mention Alhaitham's completely lack of tact; why would he tiptoe around their past when he saw no reason to do so? Still, Alhaitham wasn't really one to dwell, either; at least, that was how it seemed to Kaveh. Either way, for most of their time together, Alhaitham never pushed him about this, and as a result, Kaveh... well. It's not that he's completely avoided thinking about it, because that's impossible for someone like him--but usually, he catches himself, and he slams the door shut before he can say or do something that will shatter what little they've managed to salvage of their past closeness.
Now, though, it's impossible to stop them from creeping through his head, heavy and insidious.]
Even if I explained it, you wouldn't understand. [He doesn't sound bitter or accusatory when he speaks again--just tired. A little resigned, maybe, his gaze still focused on the table.] You're the first to assert how little you care about interpersonal relationships.
[And perhaps that's the root of it, just like it always is. Alhaitham holds himself apart from so much of the rest of the world, like a researcher observing the unknowing participants of his grand experiment. When they were young, Kaveh had fooled himself into thinking that their mutual intellect translated to a true understanding of each other. That Alhaitham could look at him as not just a fellow genius, but a dear friend. He'd shown Alhaitham the fragile, lonely creature he truly was, naively assuming he was somehow... special. Someone Alhaitham was willing to spare, even though he should've known better than to think Alhaitham would curb his temper for anyone. How could he possibly expect anything different now, when he's even less worthy of protection than he used to be? That was true even before the game.
Vash must be wrong, because once upon a time, Kaveh would've believed he was right. He cannot, will not, make the same mistake twice; his heart isn't strong enough to withstand that.
Kaveh cares too much; Alhaitham, too little. Anything Kaveh might read as caring and kindness, at least directed towards him, has a logical explanation behind it. The faster he reminds himself of this objective truth, the happier they'll both be.]
[ but were they really "happier" before this, when kaveh chalked up alhaitham's every gesture of care as a means to an end? can kaveh say that everything will be better if they regress?
kaveh isn't wrong to say that he might not understand. there's too much dissonance between their philosophies for alhaitham to argue against it, no matter how much psychoanalysis he puts kaveh through. alhaitham said before that contentedness is perfectly possible without socializing. he stands by what he said, but he understands that community and kinship are necessary, inextricable parts of life. he had very few instances of it in his lifetime—although, through kaveh's insistence on card game nights and dinner parties, he's beginning to foster a new chapter of it. he was almost convinced that his relationship to kaveh was part of this.
they had an argument and tore their relationship apart. that doesn't mean that kaveh wasn't his friend—not special, not dear to him, not his one and only. kaveh argued his points about alhaitham's social capital ad nauseum, told him to socialize and empathize, but alhaitham never had any desire to do so. he had what he needed.
if he truly didn't care for his relationship to kaveh, he would have abandoned it long ago instead of spending his youth with him, learning everything there was to know about him, chasing after him on message boards and publications, giving him a place to live despite the state of their everything. he wouldn't have curbed his temper for all the years they knew each other before it all ended. he wouldn't still be here now after lonely, fragile, bright, beautiful kaveh said he regretted ever meeting him.
alhaitham cares too little. kaveh doesn't know him at all. ]
Why am I here then, if not for the sake of salvaging one such relationship?
[It slips out unintentionally, and though it sounds frustrated to his own ears--which is already more revealing than he'd like--Kaveh is too caught up in his own thoughts and feelings to notice the underlying desperation that bleeds through. His grip on Alhaitham's hand tightens, and he looks up without thinking, searching Alhaitham's gaze for the (distant, dismissive, logical) answers that he can't find--but that must exist, because this is Alhaitham. Alhaitham, who never misses a chance to point out Kaveh's foolishness, or the uselessness of his gestures, or his chronic self-sabotage. Why is Alhaitham here, if not for his own benefit or his ego?
(But if that was his intention, hasn't he had plenty of chances to say his piece? Wouldn't he have done it when Kaveh mentioned Vash in the first place? Why would he say that he values their relationship only to take it back shortly after--or is it that he's annoyed Kaveh is no longer providing him with valuable differences? But surely he would've said that, too...)
This is why talking to Alhaitham is so dangerous. The longer this conversation goes on, the more his head spins with confusion, and the less guarded he becomes--Alhaitham always, always manages to draw him away from careful consideration and towards raw, ugly honesty. Before the game, Alhaitham was the only person who ever saw past his carefully constructed facade; if not for those utterly invasive effects each week, it's possible that would still hold true. It's one thing when they're simply bickering, when Kaveh knows they're both volleying attacks for the pure enjoyment of it. But here and now? If Alhaitham goads him into honesty, if he drags his vulnerabilities into the light, only to cast judgment on them all over again--
A part of him wants, very badly, to believe what Alhaitham is telling him. That he's not here to criticize, only to unearth the cause of their current awkwardness and guide them back to... manageable coexistence, if nothing else. But that part of him wars with the memory of every insult they've thrown at each other, with Alhaitham's declarations of his preferences for quiet and solitude, with the absolute certainty that he has done nothing but cause Alhaitham trouble since Alhaitham took him in, failing to provide whatever it is Alhaitham wanted in return, just as he'd failed Nahida, and Ruby, and--
He takes a shuddering breath.]
Why are we here, Haitham?
[Not just here, tonight, Alhaitham calmly waiting for Kaveh to pick apart his tangled, contradictory thoughts. He's speaking of patiently tolerating the presence of absolute strangers in his private sanctuary; of a steadying embrace in the doorway and unquestioning acceptance of impossible stories; of notes in private languages and time spent investigating a decades-old loss; of coffee-tasting and card games and late-night debates--of cold metal on wine-stained wood, the din of patrons fading to a low drone behind the words I have a room.
Alhaitham doesn't do things like this. Not for nothing--no. Not at all. It doesn't make any sense.]
[ kaveh suddenly resurrects the name from their younger days—one that alhaitham only accepted from his mouth alone. haitham. not al-haitham, the young eagle, its prefix alone separating him from the rest of the world. with kaveh, he was haitham, hayi, familiar and benign when others found him cold and intimidating. after their separation, alhaitham reconciled (not completely) with the fact that he would never hear his name that way again. no excited inflection, no exasperation, no tearful beseeching for his company. once again, he became alhaitham, now the scribe, the landlord, the once-acting grand sage. he was never anything else.
alhaitham is silent for a moment as he stares back into kaveh's desperately searching eyes, watching the minuscule way they dart over him and look for things that aren't there.
in their days at the akademiya, kaveh once lectured him on pigments. ("It's not 'just red'! Here. As your Senior, it's only right that I educate you on the importance of these distinctions. Let me get my paints—") as far as kaveh knew, these names were filed away in some untouched edge of alhaitham's mind, ignored for the sake of actually useful information. what kaveh does not know is that now, just as he did in those sun-bathed akademiya classrooms, alhaitham names every shade of red in kaveh's jeweled eyes. pale pink, vermillion, synopia, clay, wine. his own eyes soften. he knows what kaveh is asking, just like he knows what his answer is. he's known it since he was young, when he finally translated his feelings for kaveh into a single word that never left his mind.
why did alhaitham follow him here after so long? why didn't he just take his liquor from lambad and leave kaveh to drown in his self-made misery?
because he couldn't. because kaveh once called him haitham, with his voice as sweet and happy as a songbird's. because kaveh's eyes shine like rubies. because alhaitham wants to see him thrive again, bold and prismatic, inspiration and ideas crackling off of him like fireworks. because alhaitham never stopped being in love with him. ]
Because I won't idly stand by and watch you suffer alone, regardless of how you feel about me or our past friendship.
[ it's why he cuts to the quick. in a world where kaveh puts on airs in front of others, alhaitham is the only one who can force him to acknowledge his own frayed edges. it's not enough to trim and prune around the stem. the roots need to be examined and treated for rot, the soil replaced and fertilized. for so long, kaveh refused to to plant himself in different soil. that's where alhaitham came in, for no reason other than he wanted to. ]
[(Kaveh voice) No, no, you see, what he's actually saying is that he's plotting my downfall--
No okay. But it really is reflex, by now, to jump to conclusions. Because you enjoy watching me struggle against my self-made problems? ...But, no. Even before the game, he recalls Alhaitham rolling his eyes at that idea, brushing it off with sarcasm as the Traveler watched them with thinly veiled amusement. Because you want me to recover and get out of your hair, once and for all? That's a little better. It would align with what he knows of Alhaitham's wants, and it would even account for the kindness and warmth that Kaveh knows, despite his own complaints, Alhaitham possesses--that Alhaitham has shown him over the past few months, including tonight, right now. Alhaitham has helped him to his feet countless times, and though Kaveh struggles to understand why in some cases, this one seems to make sense.
He hesitates, though, stomach curling. It must be true, for all that Alhaitham is claiming their friendship--or whatever it is they were, before Kaveh started all this--matters to him. Perhaps even because of it. Kaveh's departure would mean financial stability, security, success, just as much as it would mean peace and quiet for Alhaitham. They would likely do much better with space between them, even if they've never been able to truly stay away from each other for long. But even approaching it from the kindest angle, Kaveh can't bring himself to say the words.
His reluctance is multi-faceted, for all that he hates to acknowledge it. He can never stop himself from pushing, from taunting, from daring Alhaitham to get it over with and tell him to leave, that he used up his welcome years ago--but for all that he waits on tenterhooks to hear it, he has no idea what he'd do if Alhaitham actually said it. It's why he always stops short, why he redirects when Alhaitham calls his bluff, saying things like, If you really can't stand me, when are you going to build yourself a mansion?
But beyond that... it just doesn't fit. Not with everything Alhaitham's said tonight. Not with the way Alhaitham's looking at him right now, expression so gentle that Kaveh's heart aches just to witness it. He holds his assumption in his head, but it feels like trying to jam the wrong keystone into an arch. It doesn't fit.
If he steps back, he can see that bridge of theirs. He can see the parapet and the pier, the spandrel wall and the abutment, even the charred remnants of their old foundation. And, he can see the outline of that final empty space, a taunting silhouette. None of the voussoirs in his hands feel right.
There are others. Countless others scattered between them, waiting to be picked up. To be tested, as Alhaitham put it--
A rational and efficient mind can still misinterpret and misunderstand the ways of the heart. Can you explain to me what love looks like? It comes in many different forms, doesn't it?
--but he cannot bring himself to reach for them. He doesn't dare.]
It would be best if he did. For all the warmth in Alhaitham's eyes, all that crystalline verdigris and rich sinopia, some part of Kaveh remains convinced that it would be safest if he ended this now. Just as he hasn't reached out to his mother since her wedding, just as he never argued when his schoolmates apologetically withdrew from their projects, just as he sometimes refuses to attend the social gatherings he loves so much. Time and time again, he's watched others walk away from him; through this, he's learned that sometimes, it's better if he does it first. Especially if it's someone he doesn't want to lose. So--let them forget about anything Vash did or didn't say and put the whole matter of them to rest. It's the surest way to protect what they have now, and a good architect prioritizes safety over all else.
His throat feels very dry. He never did make that tea.
Kaveh doesn't move. He watches Alhaitham, wary and--something. (He doesn't want to call it longing.)
[ alhaitham watches back—reading, deciphering, trying to translate the look in kaveh's eyes as anything but cautious, quiet hope. beneath alhaitham's placidity, he suddenly feels the beat of his blood through his body, converging and pounding beneath his ribs.
for all of kaveh's spiraling into the wending caverns of his thoughts and insecurities, he's anything but blind. the genius of kshahrewar, alhaitham can hear himself say, so sure of his own emotional intelligence, yet he refuses to see what's been in front of him all along. it makes sense that he would avoid the obvious, never once accepting the grace and goodwill of others unless he can repay it in full. it makes even more sense to deny any affections borne from their complicated situation, with all of its burned and broken and unresolved parts still scattered along the gulf. he can't blame this solely on kaveh when he's just as culpable of fostering confusion. he only realizes that now, when it could already be too late.
alhaitham has spent his lifetime buried in studies of signs and symbols. now, one misinterpretation could cost alhaitham everything all over again, and that vague sliver of doubt burrows in his conscience, makes him nervous. it reinforces how deeply he wants kaveh to stay with him, even at the cost of his own peace. briefly, he considers stepping backward, giving another vague and non-committal answer to guide them away, just as they'd done thousands of times before. kaveh becoming distant from him is vaguely better than kaveh disappearing from his life altogether.
but kaveh looks at him with longing. it pulls him in like gravity. so alhaitham's grip on kaveh's hand loosens, silently offering an escape, but he doesn't let go. he takes the final keystone in his hands and carefully slides it into place.
the press of alhaitham's lips on kaveh's is slow and light. it expects no response but the soft, still line of kaveh's mouth. it isn't an entreatment, like it hopes kaveh will realize that he reciprocates his feelings. the kiss is a study in semiotics—a wordless declaration of undeniable truth. this is the form of his love: peach slices on a plate, the curve of wine as it pours from bottle to glass, kaveh's shape beneath a blanket on the divan in the living room. it's words in a language known only to the two of them. it's days in the library, nights in the tavern, kaveh draped on his shoulder, kaveh guiding him by the arm, kaveh too close for comfort. it's their every argument and every devastation. it's alhaitham's worry that kaveh will be pulled away again, to another place that he can't reach. it's the reality that kaveh might not have come back to him at all.
it's kaveh's hand in his own, kaveh's lips pressed to his. it's always been kaveh, kaveh, kaveh. ]
the way I had a heart attack bc I almost accidentally deleted this wholeass tag 1/2
[Wouldn't it be funny if Kaveh really did reject him after all of this.
But a rejection would take more cognitive ability than Kaveh currently possesses. It would take thought, eloquence, and--most importantly--a deep and certain understanding of his own emotions, as well as Alhaitham's. Kaveh is not capable of any of that; he can't process anything beyond the static in his head, the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart.
Alhaitham does not move quickly. Kaveh watches as he shifts, as he closes the distance between them, and he knows that there is ample time to put a stop to this, should he desire to do so. He feels Alhaitham's grip on his hand loosen, and at the same time, he's absurdly, acutely aware of the trembling of his own hands, unsteady in a way that would be ruinous for his work. Alhaitham draws close, so close, close enough for Kaveh to smell the shampoo he uses, the same one he's used for years, that Kaveh likes to borrow when it seems like Alhaitham won't notice, telling himself it's just because it's gentle on his hair, not because it's a small piece of something familiar, a pathetic parody of an intimacy they never got the chance to have, all because neither of them can ever, ever keep their stupid mouths shut, because Kaveh is a cruel person at his core, only ever hurting the people he--
Never in a million years would Kaveh admit to imagining it, but Alhaitham's kiss is gentler than he thought it would be. Alhaitham has always been so stubborn, so unapologetic--and spoiled, quite honestly. He'd thought that this would be just the same: that Alhaitham would simply take what he wanted, self-assured in the results of whatever data he'd examined to determine that Kaveh would reciprocate, or perhaps too egocentric to care if he didn't. (Except he would, of course, because Kaveh only entertained such daydreams when he was either happy enough to imagine being unafraid of accepting Alhaitham's affection, or desperate enough to ignore the shame of pretending he was worthy of it.)
This, however, is so quintessentially Alhaitham that Kaveh immediately recognizes where his imagination went awry. Tender, steady, warm--Alhaitham is, and always has been, the embodiment of home. This is the true shape of that self-assuredness Kaveh pictured on his own; it is Alhaitham saying, with the calm certainty upon which he has built his life, This is who I am. This is how I feel. Everything else is out of my control, and I have made peace with it.
No, Kaveh does not reject him. He does not turn his head or push Alhaitham back. And in those long-distant fantasies, back when Kaveh was young and bright-eyed and too naive to recognize the pain of dreaming, he would always rest a hand on Alhaitham's face, would always trace the lines of Alhaitham's jaw or cheekbone back and around until he could tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Alhaitham's neck; he would smile against Alhaitham's lips, would say there's you, like the foregone conclusion to the story they'd been writing together.]
[But that was then, and this is now, and the Kaveh of now reacts on pure, wildly illogical instinct--he takes Alhaitham's hand, still resting loosely on his, and turns it over to pinch the inside of his wrist.
[pinches his boob--no okay he doesn't do that. He does stare for a long moment, though, like he can't quite believe what he's seeing, let alone feeling.
He glances at Alhaitham's face again, searching. His own expression is wary, the same face he often makes when he can't understand--or refuses to consider--why Alhaitham has acted in an atypical manner.]
And you're... [He looks down at his hand again, then at the abandoned plate, then back at Alhaitham.] You're not--trying to make a fool out of me? Or waiting for me to embarrass myself, or planning to use this against me later...?
[(Kaveh voice) This is how I can still prove Alhaitham was replaced by a pod person
But Kaveh, for all his fake smiles and his convincing confidence, cannot conceal his heart in moments like this. He can't hide that underlying longing, that cautious hope--still there, despite his disbelief and accusations.
Alhaitham would not do those things. Even accounting for those odd behaviors, even if he conjures up the worst, most selfish, most diabolical version of Alhaitham he can think of, he can't genuinely picture an Alhaitham who would kiss him for any reason beyond genuinely wanting to. It's just difficult to trust--difficult to believe that even after seeing him at his absolute worst time and time again, Alhaitham might still want him the way Kaveh suspected (hoped) he once did.]
[ as always, alhaitham waits for however long kaveh needs him to. palm pressed flat over the back of kaveh's hand, he meets his confused, nervous looks with complete assuredness.
kaveh overthinks. he's done this since they were in the akademiya, and it only got worse as his luck fell to pieces. there may have been some progression made before the game took kaveh away from sumeru. where alhaitham once might have criticized kaveh for needlessly spiraling, alhaitham has learned to be more patient with him.
kaveh deserves that patience now more than ever. it's why alhaitham still doesn't expect kaveh to reciprocate despite all of the evidence he's gathered to the contrary. alhaitham can only brace himself for any outcome that comes next. even if kaveh loves him back, he may not want them to be together.
(but kaveh makes him want to hope. it stings to hear kaveh consider the notion that he'd be this cruel, but at the end of the day, kaveh is only afraid of being betrayed. he isn't rejecting alhaitham's feelings at all.)
he shakes his head lightly. ]
No, I'm not. You asked me a question. This is how I chose to answer it.
[Alhaitham is right; it's clear from theook on his face that Kaveh's suspicion isn't meant to be cruel. Kaveh is stubborn, proud, and slow to change his mind--especially when he's hurt or wracked with guilt, and both of those feelings linger even all these years later.
Their history is such a double-edged sword. It's what drove him to offer to do the housework, bewildered by Alhaitham's altruism and hating to impose--but it's also what has him rearranging Alhaitham's furniture however he pleases. Those golden days are the cause of his strongest doubts and worst accusations, and they're also the reason he spends money he doesn't have on coffee bean grinders he doesn't need and paintings for a house that isn't his.
It's why this is so difficult to believe, yet so utterly unsurprising at the same time. Because they disagree, they fight, they're capable of life-shattering vitriol, they will never see eye to eye on the most fundamental elements of their ideals--
--But there is none of that without them. Throughout the years, even when they only interacted on paper, there has always been them. For every fight that cracks their foundation, something else is there to fill it in with gold. Kaveh knows that, even if those poisonous, ever-present whispers in his head are striving to convince him otherwise.]
I--
[...
Abruptly, his eyes widen, and he urgently grabs Alhaitham's hand.]
Oh my god--we cannot tell Vash about this. He'll be insufferable.
[(you voice from a few tags ago) HE IS LITERALLY HOLDING YOUR HAND!!! KERMIT GUN.PNG]
Don't say it like that.
[THAT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE HE'S REJECTING ALHAITHAM FOR VASH!!! Who is frankly a much better person to fall in love with than either Alhaitham or Wolfwood or any of his other crush potentials but alas, here we are. The heart wants what it wants.
Specifically, right now, the heart is embarrassed and wants to bristle and grumble. His face is warm... he's too light-skinned for this hit to his dignity... HATEFUL]
And don't call it denial like it was absurd of me to believe you--[might have feelings for me despite it all no he can't say that or he'll shrivel up and die. LASHES OUT]--suddenly decided to join the rest of us mortals in the realm of emotional literacy?
[ they're going to argue while holding hands? they're going to argue while holding hands. ]
If we're talking about emotional literacy, I'd say you don't have much of a leg to stand on. Vash didn't need grand romantic gestures to deduce in a few days what's been obvious to you for some time now.
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But doing something like that... how can he? How can he be certain the bridge won't collapse again? How can he trust himself not to set fire to it in another instance of short-sighted pain? And, worse--what if he dared to venture to the middle, only to find he'd misunderstood and Alhaitham was never truly waiting for him?
Our relationship is something of a mixed bag these days, he'd admitted to the Traveler once--more honest than he'd been to anyone in the UG, knowing that the Traveler wouldn't mention it, that they were detached enough to be a safe confidant. Talking with someone who knew them both, away on a commission and slightly tipsy to boot, was very different from being honest with people he was trapped with for weeks on end, especially when he'd spent most of that time half-certain of his own demise. He couldn't acknowledge the complexities of their relationship during the game because he couldn't stand to think about Alhaitham much at all, knowing they'd likely never see each other again. Never mind that he unconsciously sought out familiar traits in others, that Alhaitham's name fell out of his mouth left and right--that Kaveh himself proved, over and over again and contrary to his own claims, that they are inextricably intertwined.
Alhaitham is right--they're fine sometimes. Alhaitham harboring feelings for him is... another matter entirely, but Kaveh can admit, at least with Alhaitham sitting beside him and holding his hand like this, that it's true they can get along quite well. Alhaitham wasn't the only person who found a kindred spirit when they met, and the thrill of a verbal spar with an intellectual equal is something Kaveh has still only ever felt with Alhaitham. Not to mention the wonders they produce when they do work together--even now, Kaveh hears their thesis described as ingenious and revolutionary. Kaveh doesn't care about any of that, but he does remember the exhilaration of a breakthrough, the content exhaustion of long nights spent side by side in the library. Regardless of the other relationships he's cultivated over the years, romantic or otherwise, no one ever filled the void that was left behind when Kaveh walked away from Alhaitham all those years ago.
Alhaitham says he values their differences, that he doesn't think their arguments are insurmountable--and Kaveh knows Alhaitham well enough to recognize that it's high praise. But even so, Kaveh's mind whispers poisonous doubts: The existence of a load-bearing structure does not negate the weight pressing down upon it. A manageable burden is still a burden.
He doesn't pull his hand away, though. His fingers curl, very loosely, over Alhaitham's.]
It would be more valuable if you could go five seconds without insulting every decision I make. [But his grumbling is insincere, nothing more than a retreat away from the frightening depths of vulnerability in front of him and back onto familiar, solid ground. It hasn't been lost on him that Alhaitham's been kinder lately--still himself, of course, but not nearly as acerbic as before.
He's quiet for a moment; when he speaks again, it's with a light tone that is somehow both forced and fragile. Carefully, so carefully, venturing back towards honesty.] You claim our differences aren't insurmountable, but even our most productive debates devolve into "petty insults," as you say. Is it not said that the definition of insanity is repeating the same actions while expecting different results?
[Surely this isn't truly worth it to you?]
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alhaitham treads carefully over their bridge of mud and stone, salvaged from the remains of their once great, intricate masterpiece. when kaveh returned from the game, it felt as though they committed to rebuilding what they had—laying a solid foundation, stabilizing shaky structures, creating a platform strong enough to carry their weight. it would never live up to what they had in the akademiya, but this could be something stable, almost reliable. that's what alhaitham thought, anyway.
all of that came to a halt those few weeks ago. alhaitham now stands at the center of that bridge, offering out his hand. kaveh has slunk back onto solid and familiar ground, waiting to be swallowed by the sea around him.
the situation isn't so dire. if this conversation doesn't end well, alhaitham can certainly press the issue again. it's the way kaveh speaks, voice shaken and unsure, that makes alhaitham hesitate. kaveh forgets that on the day their relationship (friendship? situationship?) collapsed, alhaitham was standing on the other end of their bridge, dropping his matchstick and watching the flames eat away at what they built. alhaitham is no architect, but he's still capable of building solid structures and tearing things down. ]
One cannot base their conclusions on empirical evidence alone. You and I have never interacted with different expectations for the outcome. We won't know that our actions would remain the same unless we gather proof that they will.
[ by testing it is implied. rather than being corrective, alhaitham is appealing in the way most familiar to him—with fact-based logic and reasoning. if it's interpreted as dry or insensitive, that's entirely unintentional on alhaitham's part, although the damage may already be done.
it doesn't end there. alhaitham lowers his voice, searching kaveh's face for any inkling of his thoughts. ]
Tell me why this matters so much to you. Why is it important that you prove Vash wrong?
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Normally, Kaveh would shut such thoughts down immediately. Long before the game, he'd decided--more or less subconsciously--that at the best way to coexist in Alhaitham's home was to simply not acknowledge the tattered state of their relationship. Of course, it quickly proved impossible to truly do so; they couldn't unlearn everything they knew about each other, nor could they erase the parts of themselves that sparked their conflicts. Not to mention Alhaitham's completely lack of tact; why would he tiptoe around their past when he saw no reason to do so? Still, Alhaitham wasn't really one to dwell, either; at least, that was how it seemed to Kaveh. Either way, for most of their time together, Alhaitham never pushed him about this, and as a result, Kaveh... well. It's not that he's completely avoided thinking about it, because that's impossible for someone like him--but usually, he catches himself, and he slams the door shut before he can say or do something that will shatter what little they've managed to salvage of their past closeness.
Now, though, it's impossible to stop them from creeping through his head, heavy and insidious.]
Even if I explained it, you wouldn't understand. [He doesn't sound bitter or accusatory when he speaks again--just tired. A little resigned, maybe, his gaze still focused on the table.] You're the first to assert how little you care about interpersonal relationships.
[And perhaps that's the root of it, just like it always is. Alhaitham holds himself apart from so much of the rest of the world, like a researcher observing the unknowing participants of his grand experiment. When they were young, Kaveh had fooled himself into thinking that their mutual intellect translated to a true understanding of each other. That Alhaitham could look at him as not just a fellow genius, but a dear friend. He'd shown Alhaitham the fragile, lonely creature he truly was, naively assuming he was somehow... special. Someone Alhaitham was willing to spare, even though he should've known better than to think Alhaitham would curb his temper for anyone. How could he possibly expect anything different now, when he's even less worthy of protection than he used to be? That was true even before the game.
Vash must be wrong, because once upon a time, Kaveh would've believed he was right. He cannot, will not, make the same mistake twice; his heart isn't strong enough to withstand that.
Kaveh cares too much; Alhaitham, too little. Anything Kaveh might read as caring and kindness, at least directed towards him, has a logical explanation behind it. The faster he reminds himself of this objective truth, the happier they'll both be.]
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kaveh isn't wrong to say that he might not understand. there's too much dissonance between their philosophies for alhaitham to argue against it, no matter how much psychoanalysis he puts kaveh through. alhaitham said before that contentedness is perfectly possible without socializing. he stands by what he said, but he understands that community and kinship are necessary, inextricable parts of life. he had very few instances of it in his lifetime—although, through kaveh's insistence on card game nights and dinner parties, he's beginning to foster a new chapter of it. he was almost convinced that his relationship to kaveh was part of this.
they had an argument and tore their relationship apart. that doesn't mean that kaveh wasn't his friend—not special, not dear to him, not his one and only. kaveh argued his points about alhaitham's social capital ad nauseum, told him to socialize and empathize, but alhaitham never had any desire to do so. he had what he needed.
if he truly didn't care for his relationship to kaveh, he would have abandoned it long ago instead of spending his youth with him, learning everything there was to know about him, chasing after him on message boards and publications, giving him a place to live despite the state of their everything. he wouldn't have curbed his temper for all the years they knew each other before it all ended. he wouldn't still be here now after lonely, fragile, bright, beautiful kaveh said he regretted ever meeting him.
alhaitham cares too little. kaveh doesn't know him at all. ]
Why am I here then, if not for the sake of salvaging one such relationship?
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[It slips out unintentionally, and though it sounds frustrated to his own ears--which is already more revealing than he'd like--Kaveh is too caught up in his own thoughts and feelings to notice the underlying desperation that bleeds through. His grip on Alhaitham's hand tightens, and he looks up without thinking, searching Alhaitham's gaze for the (distant, dismissive, logical) answers that he can't find--but that must exist, because this is Alhaitham. Alhaitham, who never misses a chance to point out Kaveh's foolishness, or the uselessness of his gestures, or his chronic self-sabotage. Why is Alhaitham here, if not for his own benefit or his ego?
(But if that was his intention, hasn't he had plenty of chances to say his piece? Wouldn't he have done it when Kaveh mentioned Vash in the first place? Why would he say that he values their relationship only to take it back shortly after--or is it that he's annoyed Kaveh is no longer providing him with valuable differences? But surely he would've said that, too...)
This is why talking to Alhaitham is so dangerous. The longer this conversation goes on, the more his head spins with confusion, and the less guarded he becomes--Alhaitham always, always manages to draw him away from careful consideration and towards raw, ugly honesty. Before the game, Alhaitham was the only person who ever saw past his carefully constructed facade; if not for those utterly invasive effects each week, it's possible that would still hold true. It's one thing when they're simply bickering, when Kaveh knows they're both volleying attacks for the pure enjoyment of it. But here and now? If Alhaitham goads him into honesty, if he drags his vulnerabilities into the light, only to cast judgment on them all over again--
A part of him wants, very badly, to believe what Alhaitham is telling him. That he's not here to criticize, only to unearth the cause of their current awkwardness and guide them back to... manageable coexistence, if nothing else. But that part of him wars with the memory of every insult they've thrown at each other, with Alhaitham's declarations of his preferences for quiet and solitude, with the absolute certainty that he has done nothing but cause Alhaitham trouble since Alhaitham took him in, failing to provide whatever it is Alhaitham wanted in return, just as he'd failed Nahida, and Ruby, and--
He takes a shuddering breath.]
Why are we here, Haitham?
[Not just here, tonight, Alhaitham calmly waiting for Kaveh to pick apart his tangled, contradictory thoughts. He's speaking of patiently tolerating the presence of absolute strangers in his private sanctuary; of a steadying embrace in the doorway and unquestioning acceptance of impossible stories; of notes in private languages and time spent investigating a decades-old loss; of coffee-tasting and card games and late-night debates--of cold metal on wine-stained wood, the din of patrons fading to a low drone behind the words I have a room.
Alhaitham doesn't do things like this. Not for nothing--no. Not at all. It doesn't make any sense.]
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alhaitham is silent for a moment as he stares back into kaveh's desperately searching eyes, watching the minuscule way they dart over him and look for things that aren't there.
in their days at the akademiya, kaveh once lectured him on pigments. ("It's not 'just red'! Here. As your Senior, it's only right that I educate you on the importance of these distinctions. Let me get my paints—") as far as kaveh knew, these names were filed away in some untouched edge of alhaitham's mind, ignored for the sake of actually useful information. what kaveh does not know is that now, just as he did in those sun-bathed akademiya classrooms, alhaitham names every shade of red in kaveh's jeweled eyes. pale pink, vermillion, synopia, clay, wine. his own eyes soften. he knows what kaveh is asking, just like he knows what his answer is. he's known it since he was young, when he finally translated his feelings for kaveh into a single word that never left his mind.
why did alhaitham follow him here after so long? why didn't he just take his liquor from lambad and leave kaveh to drown in his self-made misery?
because he couldn't. because kaveh once called him haitham, with his voice as sweet and happy as a songbird's. because kaveh's eyes shine like rubies. because alhaitham wants to see him thrive again, bold and prismatic, inspiration and ideas crackling off of him like fireworks. because alhaitham never stopped being in love with him. ]
Because I won't idly stand by and watch you suffer alone, regardless of how you feel about me or our past friendship.
[ it's why he cuts to the quick. in a world where kaveh puts on airs in front of others, alhaitham is the only one who can force him to acknowledge his own frayed edges. it's not enough to trim and prune around the stem. the roots need to be examined and treated for rot, the soil replaced and fertilized. for so long, kaveh refused to to plant himself in different soil. that's where alhaitham came in, for no reason other than he wanted to. ]
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No okay. But it really is reflex, by now, to jump to conclusions. Because you enjoy watching me struggle against my self-made problems? ...But, no. Even before the game, he recalls Alhaitham rolling his eyes at that idea, brushing it off with sarcasm as the Traveler watched them with thinly veiled amusement. Because you want me to recover and get out of your hair, once and for all? That's a little better. It would align with what he knows of Alhaitham's wants, and it would even account for the kindness and warmth that Kaveh knows, despite his own complaints, Alhaitham possesses--that Alhaitham has shown him over the past few months, including tonight, right now. Alhaitham has helped him to his feet countless times, and though Kaveh struggles to understand why in some cases, this one seems to make sense.
He hesitates, though, stomach curling. It must be true, for all that Alhaitham is claiming their friendship--or whatever it is they were, before Kaveh started all this--matters to him. Perhaps even because of it. Kaveh's departure would mean financial stability, security, success, just as much as it would mean peace and quiet for Alhaitham. They would likely do much better with space between them, even if they've never been able to truly stay away from each other for long. But even approaching it from the kindest angle, Kaveh can't bring himself to say the words.
His reluctance is multi-faceted, for all that he hates to acknowledge it. He can never stop himself from pushing, from taunting, from daring Alhaitham to get it over with and tell him to leave, that he used up his welcome years ago--but for all that he waits on tenterhooks to hear it, he has no idea what he'd do if Alhaitham actually said it. It's why he always stops short, why he redirects when Alhaitham calls his bluff, saying things like, If you really can't stand me, when are you going to build yourself a mansion?
But beyond that... it just doesn't fit. Not with everything Alhaitham's said tonight. Not with the way Alhaitham's looking at him right now, expression so gentle that Kaveh's heart aches just to witness it. He holds his assumption in his head, but it feels like trying to jam the wrong keystone into an arch. It doesn't fit.
If he steps back, he can see that bridge of theirs. He can see the parapet and the pier, the spandrel wall and the abutment, even the charred remnants of their old foundation. And, he can see the outline of that final empty space, a taunting silhouette. None of the voussoirs in his hands feel right.
There are others. Countless others scattered between them, waiting to be picked up. To be tested, as Alhaitham put it--
A rational and efficient mind can still misinterpret and misunderstand the ways of the heart. Can you explain to me what love looks like? It comes in many different forms, doesn't it?
--but he cannot bring himself to reach for them. He doesn't dare.]
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It would be best if he did. For all the warmth in Alhaitham's eyes, all that crystalline verdigris and rich sinopia, some part of Kaveh remains convinced that it would be safest if he ended this now. Just as he hasn't reached out to his mother since her wedding, just as he never argued when his schoolmates apologetically withdrew from their projects, just as he sometimes refuses to attend the social gatherings he loves so much. Time and time again, he's watched others walk away from him; through this, he's learned that sometimes, it's better if he does it first. Especially if it's someone he doesn't want to lose. So--let them forget about anything Vash did or didn't say and put the whole matter of them to rest. It's the surest way to protect what they have now, and a good architect prioritizes safety over all else.
His throat feels very dry. He never did make that tea.
Kaveh doesn't move. He watches Alhaitham, wary and--something. (He doesn't want to call it longing.)
Softly:]
...Why?
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for all of kaveh's spiraling into the wending caverns of his thoughts and insecurities, he's anything but blind. the genius of kshahrewar, alhaitham can hear himself say, so sure of his own emotional intelligence, yet he refuses to see what's been in front of him all along. it makes sense that he would avoid the obvious, never once accepting the grace and goodwill of others unless he can repay it in full. it makes even more sense to deny any affections borne from their complicated situation, with all of its burned and broken and unresolved parts still scattered along the gulf. he can't blame this solely on kaveh when he's just as culpable of fostering confusion. he only realizes that now, when it could already be too late.
alhaitham has spent his lifetime buried in studies of signs and symbols. now, one misinterpretation could cost alhaitham everything all over again, and that vague sliver of doubt burrows in his conscience, makes him nervous. it reinforces how deeply he wants kaveh to stay with him, even at the cost of his own peace. briefly, he considers stepping backward, giving another vague and non-committal answer to guide them away, just as they'd done thousands of times before. kaveh becoming distant from him is vaguely better than kaveh disappearing from his life altogether.
but kaveh looks at him with longing. it pulls him in like gravity. so alhaitham's grip on kaveh's hand loosens, silently offering an escape, but he doesn't let go. he takes the final keystone in his hands and carefully slides it into place.
the press of alhaitham's lips on kaveh's is slow and light. it expects no response but the soft, still line of kaveh's mouth. it isn't an entreatment, like it hopes kaveh will realize that he reciprocates his feelings. the kiss is a study in semiotics—a wordless declaration of undeniable truth. this is the form of his love: peach slices on a plate, the curve of wine as it pours from bottle to glass, kaveh's shape beneath a blanket on the divan in the living room. it's words in a language known only to the two of them. it's days in the library, nights in the tavern, kaveh draped on his shoulder, kaveh guiding him by the arm, kaveh too close for comfort. it's their every argument and every devastation. it's alhaitham's worry that kaveh will be pulled away again, to another place that he can't reach. it's the reality that kaveh might not have come back to him at all.
it's kaveh's hand in his own, kaveh's lips pressed to his. it's always been kaveh, kaveh, kaveh. ]
the way I had a heart attack bc I almost accidentally deleted this wholeass tag 1/2
But a rejection would take more cognitive ability than Kaveh currently possesses. It would take thought, eloquence, and--most importantly--a deep and certain understanding of his own emotions, as well as Alhaitham's. Kaveh is not capable of any of that; he can't process anything beyond the static in his head, the rush of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart.
Alhaitham does not move quickly. Kaveh watches as he shifts, as he closes the distance between them, and he knows that there is ample time to put a stop to this, should he desire to do so. He feels Alhaitham's grip on his hand loosen, and at the same time, he's absurdly, acutely aware of the trembling of his own hands, unsteady in a way that would be ruinous for his work. Alhaitham draws close, so close, close enough for Kaveh to smell the shampoo he uses, the same one he's used for years, that Kaveh likes to borrow when it seems like Alhaitham won't notice, telling himself it's just because it's gentle on his hair, not because it's a small piece of something familiar, a pathetic parody of an intimacy they never got the chance to have, all because neither of them can ever, ever keep their stupid mouths shut, because Kaveh is a cruel person at his core, only ever hurting the people he--
Never in a million years would Kaveh admit to imagining it, but Alhaitham's kiss is gentler than he thought it would be. Alhaitham has always been so stubborn, so unapologetic--and spoiled, quite honestly. He'd thought that this would be just the same: that Alhaitham would simply take what he wanted, self-assured in the results of whatever data he'd examined to determine that Kaveh would reciprocate, or perhaps too egocentric to care if he didn't. (Except he would, of course, because Kaveh only entertained such daydreams when he was either happy enough to imagine being unafraid of accepting Alhaitham's affection, or desperate enough to ignore the shame of pretending he was worthy of it.)
This, however, is so quintessentially Alhaitham that Kaveh immediately recognizes where his imagination went awry. Tender, steady, warm--Alhaitham is, and always has been, the embodiment of home. This is the true shape of that self-assuredness Kaveh pictured on his own; it is Alhaitham saying, with the calm certainty upon which he has built his life, This is who I am. This is how I feel. Everything else is out of my control, and I have made peace with it.
No, Kaveh does not reject him. He does not turn his head or push Alhaitham back. And in those long-distant fantasies, back when Kaveh was young and bright-eyed and too naive to recognize the pain of dreaming, he would always rest a hand on Alhaitham's face, would always trace the lines of Alhaitham's jaw or cheekbone back and around until he could tangle his fingers in the hair at the nape of Alhaitham's neck; he would smile against Alhaitham's lips, would say there's you, like the foregone conclusion to the story they'd been writing together.]
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Hard.]
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by reflex, alhaitham's hand flinches away. he sits back in his chair, darts his eyes to his poor wrist, and then looks flatly at kaveh. ]
You have two hands. You could have just pushed me.
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That's not-- [what I was trying to do] --you... you're actually real? For certain?
[This is, of course, a very silly question--but it is not the first time he's asked it since coming back. Sometimes time loops fuck you up real bad!!
Granted, there's only a small part of that lingering trauma here. Mostly he's just (FLUSTERED STATIC NOISES)]
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Yes, I'm real. You just felt that for yourself.
[ at least kaveh's answer isn't discouraging. so he doesn't feel bad about carefully picking up kaveh's hand and pressing it over his rabbiting heart.
congrats on touching boob. ]
This should be proof enough.
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He glances at Alhaitham's face again, searching. His own expression is wary, the same face he often makes when he can't understand--or refuses to consider--why Alhaitham has acted in an atypical manner.]
And you're... [He looks down at his hand again, then at the abandoned plate, then back at Alhaitham.] You're not--trying to make a fool out of me? Or waiting for me to embarrass myself, or planning to use this against me later...?
[(Kaveh voice) This is how I can still prove Alhaitham was replaced by a pod person
But Kaveh, for all his fake smiles and his convincing confidence, cannot conceal his heart in moments like this. He can't hide that underlying longing, that cautious hope--still there, despite his disbelief and accusations.
Alhaitham would not do those things. Even accounting for those odd behaviors, even if he conjures up the worst, most selfish, most diabolical version of Alhaitham he can think of, he can't genuinely picture an Alhaitham who would kiss him for any reason beyond genuinely wanting to. It's just difficult to trust--difficult to believe that even after seeing him at his absolute worst time and time again, Alhaitham might still want him the way Kaveh suspected (hoped) he once did.]
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kaveh overthinks. he's done this since they were in the akademiya, and it only got worse as his luck fell to pieces. there may have been some progression made before the game took kaveh away from sumeru. where alhaitham once might have criticized kaveh for needlessly spiraling, alhaitham has learned to be more patient with him.
kaveh deserves that patience now more than ever. it's why alhaitham still doesn't expect kaveh to reciprocate despite all of the evidence he's gathered to the contrary. alhaitham can only brace himself for any outcome that comes next. even if kaveh loves him back, he may not want them to be together.
(but kaveh makes him want to hope. it stings to hear kaveh consider the notion that he'd be this cruel, but at the end of the day, kaveh is only afraid of being betrayed. he isn't rejecting alhaitham's feelings at all.)
he shakes his head lightly. ]
No, I'm not. You asked me a question. This is how I chose to answer it.
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Their history is such a double-edged sword. It's what drove him to offer to do the housework, bewildered by Alhaitham's altruism and hating to impose--but it's also what has him rearranging Alhaitham's furniture however he pleases. Those golden days are the cause of his strongest doubts and worst accusations, and they're also the reason he spends money he doesn't have on coffee bean grinders he doesn't need and paintings for a house that isn't his.
It's why this is so difficult to believe, yet so utterly unsurprising at the same time. Because they disagree, they fight, they're capable of life-shattering vitriol, they will never see eye to eye on the most fundamental elements of their ideals--
--But there is none of that without them. Throughout the years, even when they only interacted on paper, there has always been them. For every fight that cracks their foundation, something else is there to fill it in with gold. Kaveh knows that, even if those poisonous, ever-present whispers in his head are striving to convince him otherwise.]
I--
[...
Abruptly, his eyes widen, and he urgently grabs Alhaitham's hand.]
Oh my god--we cannot tell Vash about this. He'll be insufferable.
[IS THAT IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW, KAVEH]
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I'm amazed that you still found a way to be preoccupied with yourself after someone laid their feelings bare to you moments ago.
[ at least he's not?? being rejected?? does your confession being ignored for a sec count as a rejection ]
Perhaps we should pretend this never happened.
[ (he doesn't mean it) ]
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You-- that's--!
[LOOK... LISTEN... HUFFS IN EMBARRASSED AGITATION]
You know... I just thought... it was obvious... what my answer was... AND BESIDES, you started it by asking about all this, it's relevant!
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... holds kaveh's hand just a little. ]
You know better than to leave things to mere interpretation, Senior Kaveh.
I SAW THAT HEI
[YOU HEARD HIM!!! DON'T BE A BRAT]
HEI? WHAT DID YOU DO
Yes, I'm "purposely" telling you to clarify your response before speaking about someone else. Should I be doing otherwise?
[ but fine he'll roll with it ]
Is this what you were so in denial about?
hei is such a creature
Don't say it like that.
[THAT MAKES IT SOUND LIKE HE'S REJECTING ALHAITHAM FOR VASH!!! Who is frankly a much better person to fall in love with than either Alhaitham or Wolfwood or any of his other crush potentials but alas, here we are. The heart wants what it wants.
Specifically, right now, the heart is embarrassed and wants to bristle and grumble. His face is warm... he's too light-skinned for this hit to his dignity... HATEFUL]
And don't call it denial like it was absurd of me to believe you--[might have feelings for me despite it all no he can't say that or he'll shrivel up and die. LASHES OUT]--suddenly decided to join the rest of us mortals in the realm of emotional literacy?
[Kaveh you are still holding his hand]
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If we're talking about emotional literacy, I'd say you don't have much of a leg to stand on. Vash didn't need grand romantic gestures to deduce in a few days what's been obvious to you for some time now.
[ casually admits to crushing for years ]
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he figures that this happened while they visited ]
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