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“Argh!” Kaveh yells, as he loses to Cyno for the third time tonight. Cyno merely flashes a smug smirk, and Alhaitham already knows what’s about to happen, crossing his arms and twitching his eyes ready for the eye roll.
“Don’t beat yourself up too hard, Kaveh. Everyone can admit that I’m in-deck-structible.”
Silence ripples over their table.
Cyno glances at his friends, “Get it? Because we have decks of cards and I—“
“We get it, Cyno,” Tighnari sighs.
The four are having their weekly hang out in the tavern, accompanied by TCG (courtesy to Cyno) and controlled amounts of alcohol at the beginning before it inevitably grows excessive, ending with Alhaitham having to drag Kaveh home by the end of it, every week. It is rather annoying to drag his extremely inebriated roommate back home every week, at the very least, though it has happened too many times that if Kaveh were to be sober by the end of the night, Alhaitham would likely question his sanity.
That doesn’t stop him from complaining to a hungover Kaveh the next day though.
And Alhaitham can’t deny the fact that he does enjoy these nights out, with people he’d assume as his friends. They are technically just Kaveh’s friends that got introduced to him, but he thinks that Cyno and Tighnari consider him a friend, though he isn’t too fussed about that. He’s never really cared for what others think of him.
Another round of drinks are called to their table, and Alhaitham can tell that Kaveh is teetering on the edge of tipsy. It’s only their second drink, although that doesn’t mean much to his extremely lightweight roommate, who is already starting to ramble excessively to the group.
Detailed and expressive words leave the blond’s mouth as he complains about some clients that have constantly rejected his designs, and his hands gesture around rather dramatically, a frown deepening with each swish of his wrist. Tighnari and Cyno look equally exasperated and sympathetic at Kaveh’s poor decisions led by his emotional heart, offering words of comfort and advice.
“But they say they’re struggling with their life right now, so I can’t just back out! That goes against all my morals,” Kaveh exclaims, throwing his arms up and letting them drop as he slumps back into his chair.
Alhaitham often times finds the architect’s actions amusing, since it means that it’s so much easier to rile him up, painting a rather expressive frown on his face before he hurtles out some creative insult to the scribe’s unfazed expression, which only seems to aggravate him more. Alhaitham finds the subtle pout of his lips rather endearing. But he will never say that to Kaveh’s face.
Nor will he inform him about how his noise cancelling is always turned down whenever Kaveh rambles about whatever he pleases, as the scribe has subconsciously found himself feel rather content when listening to the architect’s voice. It’s a foreign yet stubbornly soothing feeling, causing Alhaitham to find Kaveh’s presence enjoyable, a pleasantry that is not easily given out. He doesn’t know what that means considering his feelings towards his roommate.
“They’re just saying that so you’ll keep working with their absurd requests. No one with a right state of mind would still be with them,” Alhaitham retorts plainly, challenging Kaveh with a slight raise in his eyebrows.
Kaveh, much to the amusement that Alhaitham will never admit to, swirls his head around to face the scribe, brows crinkling and mouth open undoubtedly with some response about kindness and being helpful that he claims Alhaitham lacks.
“Well, unlike you , I actually care—“
Crackle.
Crackling static buzzes in Alhaitham’s ear mildly, silencing Kaveh’s words and causing the unamused expression to fall right off his face, as confusion takes its place. Alhaitham reaches a hand to tinker with the noise cancelling, and watches out of the corner of his eye as Kaveh becomes royally frustrated. He assumes his roommate must think that he’s ignoring him, an action that’s he’s definitely done mid argument before. It doesn’t seem to work—
Suddenly, noise filters into his ears, too much noise, too loud, too much—
Alhaitham feels himself flinch as the sound of everything around him tumbles into his ears, his fingers desperately tapping the side of his headphones to mute the background noise, but it’s not working, the noise is pulsating his head, too much at once. His breathing starts to increase in pace.
“Alhaitham?”
The scribe practically jumps out of his seat at his name being called, the unnaturally overwhelming volume of the voices making him feel extremely restless. He spares a glance at the direction of the sound, though his focus isn’t on the blurry figure of a man in front of him, but more on vigorously pressung the buttons of his headphones, which stubbornly refuse to filter out the sound.
He’s vaguely aware of the three pairs of concerned eyes now latching onto him, and Kaveh has his hand outstretched as if to console him.
“What’s going on, Alhaith—“
The close proximity of the voice causes Alhaitham to violently flinch once again, and to sufficiently lose his patience. His breathes are coming out ragged at this point, panting as if he’s just ran a three laps around the Palace of Alcazarzaray.
He yanks the headphones off as if they’re burning him, throwing them hurriedly on the table with a small strangled gasp and brings his hands up to clench around his ears. He’s aware about how this might ruin his reputation to the group, or to any onlookers, but he can’t find any fibre in his being to care, his only desperate desire glowing loud in his mind; to escape, escape from everything.
His hands tighten around his ears as he digs his fingernails into the side of his skull at a futile attempt to force the stress out of his brain and for the pain to distract him long enough.
Shutting his eyes tightly, he brings his knees to his chest and buries his head into his legs, attempting to hide his face, to hopelessly conceal the panic that is definitely evident on his features. He curls in on himself, finding a sliver of comfort being in his own zone away from the eyes of the world, but unfortunately, he can’t escape the sound. His breathing is laboured and too fast, making him grow slightly lightheaded and somehow more disoriented than he was before. He begs to Lesser Lord Kusanali to make this stop.
And then—
A hand runs up and down his back, the repetitive movement isn’t enough to completely distract his mind from the pain but it provides something for him to focus on, like a light at the end of the tunnel. It clears the haze in his head slightly, though his hands remain firmly clenched around his ears.
“—aitham? —ou hear me?” a soft, quiet voice asks. He nods his head rather aggressively, too disoriented to control the desperation in his action.
“We’re going to go outside, okay?”
Before he can even react, calloused fingers pry his fingernails away from his scalp, but before he can protest, the same pair of hands enclose his, resting firmly but carefully, further blocking out the sound. He then feels a hand on his wrist tugging for him to stand. His eyes remain closed as his breathing is still short, but he obediently follows suit with his head bowing down.
The first thing he’s conscious of when they stop is the cool evening breeze tussling his hair, and how the quick breathes he’s taking are no longer warm and tinged with alcohol but instead fresh and relaxing. Alhaitham feels the hands on his own shift in position.
“Breathe with me, okay?” A quiet voice only barely manages to breach through the defences around his ears, which he would usually ignore. But something about the tone and familiarity tugs for him to listen and comply.
“Inhale 1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… Hold… Exhale 1… 2–“
The cycle repeats until Alhaitham gradually feels his breathing start to return to its usual pace, and his heart rate to stop frantically beating. It’s when all this slows that he realises that there’s less background noise, only a few murmurs and the whistling of wind. This gives him the confidence to open his eyes and nudge his hands away from his ears, the other pair of hands retracting as well. When he follows the hands to the owner he finds—
Kaveh. Kaveh stares at him in a way he’s never seen before, almost… softly? His eyes still contain lingering traces of concern, though otherwise he seems relieved. It’s a good look on him.
Beside Kaveh, Tighnari stands mainly with concern, tail wagging hesitantly, and Cyno is further away, clearly unsure on how to help, though he too also looks slightly worried. At their expressions, Alhaitham stares, blinking slowly, waiting for one of them to speak first.
If the circumstances were any different, and if his head wasn’t reeling, the scribe would’ve let out a snappy comment and moved on. Though, unlike what most people believe, he isn’t an unfeeling machine, and he knows his friends know that too, so he keeps his mouth shut. They did just help him after all. Out of what felt like hell.
“You okay now, Haitham?” Kaveh speaks up first, naturally. Concern drips from every syllable, though there’s a certain tenderness behind the words that Alhaitham has never received from Kaveh before. Or anyone, really.
Alhaitham begins to nod, swallowing as he realises that he should probably express his thanks to the three for dealing with whatever just happened in the tavern before a gust of wind blows past his hair, and tickles his bare ears.
Panic immediately surges to his heart as he realises that his headphones are likely broken, meaning that he’ll have to go into work tomorrow with no headphones since he has no spares, and he won’t be able to do that with all the noise in the Akademiya—
“Where are my headphones?” he grits out, wide eyed and his breathing starts to pick up again.
Kaveh places a gentle hand on his shoulder, fingers brushing a light rhythm, which oddly manages to calm his down slightly, whilst Cyno steps forward and places the device into his hands.
“I, uh, don’t think I need to tell you that they’re broken. If you don’t want to come into work tomorrow, I get it, and I’ll inform the Akademiya,” Cyno offers.
“No,” Alhaitham inhales deeply. “No, I’ll be there. I’ll… figure something out.”
Frankly, he’s completely unsure on what he’s going to do. He can’t call off of work simply because of his stupid sensory issues, that would be inefficient and he does have a huge amount of paperwork to tackle.
The three men look at him, eyes full of scepticism and weariness, like they’d expected this. A look passes amongst them, before Kaveh nods.
“Well, thanks guys for tonight. I think we’ll get going now. See you!” Kaveh grabs Alhaitham’s hand, interlacing their fingers and bids farewell to Cyno and Tighnari, who do the same. Alhaitham uncharacteristically did not expect Kaveh to do this, heart beating erratically for a completely different reason from a few moments ago, so it leaves him stumbling slightly. He should pull away. But Kaveh’s hand is annoyingly warm. And comforting. So he stays.
They walk back home in a comfortable silence between them, hand in hand, though that doesn’t make the actual journey quiet. Shouts and various other noises can be heard, each one making Alhaitham flinch. Though Kaveh reacts to each one with a simple squeeze of the hand, and then tugs Alhaitham faster along the path.
It’s only when the door, that usually slams loudly shut, closes quietly behind him that Alhaitham exhales shakily. Kaveh comes in front of him immediately, the same warmth in his eyes that make Alhaitham’s chest warm in turn.
“Are you seriously going to go into work tomorrow? It’s okay to just stay home, you know,” Kaveh says, uncharacteristically soft. Though Alhaitham has seen that expression a lot in the past hour.
“There’s not a strong enough reason for me to not show up. I can do a few days without my headphones.”
They both know that’s a lie, and Kaveh probably would’ve believed him if it wasn’t for the unfortunate incident in the tavern. Actually no, he’d likely see straight through that lie. Knowing each other so well is a double edged sword after all.
Kaveh says nothing for a moment, and then he gently extracts the headphones from Alhaitham’s grip.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says, a small smile teasing his lips.
Alhaitham scolds Kaveh for his kindness since it usually leaves him in a sleep deprived and in mentally strained state. And though the scribe acts like he doesn’t want to see him that way because he doesn’t want to deal with a moody and tired Kaveh, in reality it’s because it pains him to see the person that lights up the room to have his light snuffed out.
Though, in this moment, he feels rather grateful. He’s aware that Kaveh isn’t doing this for him out of pity or because he gave some lame emotionally moving story. But because he cares. And selfishly, Alhaitham is pleased that Kaveh is willing to do this.
Kaveh turns to walk in the direction of his room, and Alhaitham is frozen for a brief moment before striding over to his room too. Before Kaveh closes the door, Alhaitham can’t resist speaking up.
“Kaveh?”
The architect’s head pokes out the door.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Kaveh then gives Alhaitham a smile sweet and mischievous simultaneously.
“Don’t worry about it. But save your thanks for tomorrow. I’m only two doors away if you need me.”
He gives another grin and shuts the door gently behind him. Alhaitham furrows his eyebrows at Kaveh’s words. Though he supposes he’ll have to wait to find out what they mean. It would be wasting time mulling over the words when he’ll get the answer tomorrow.
With his chest feeling lighter, and a small smile gracing his lips, Alhaitham climbs into bed, feeling unusually unbothered about going to work tomorrow without his headphones. He trusts Kaveh’s abilities, though he has some doubts regarding whether his roommate will be able to fix it within one night.
***
When Alhaitham steps out his room the next morning, he’s surprised to say the least, to see Kaveh leaning against a counter in their kitchen, a cup of coffee in his hands and a second cup beside him. He looks extremely tired, dark circles that can pass off as bruises are under his eyes, and his eyes are blinking dreamily. Though, when he hears Alhaitham walking into their kitchen, he straightens up with glowing smile.
Alhaitham decides to save the conversation about Kaveh’s sleep schedule for the evening.
“Haitham! Good morning,” he says cheerfully.
“Have you magically paid off your debt overnight, or have you successfully gone insane?” Alhaitham responds, tilting an eyebrow.
To his response, Kaveh essentially pouts, and Alhaitham resists the urge to laugh fondly at his senior. He really is in a good mood then. The scribe decides not to mention the headphones just yet.
“Haitham, it’s too early for you to be mean,” Kaveh whines expressively. “Anyways, close your eyes.”
Oh? Has he seriously repaired the headphones?
Alhaitham covers his astonishment with a pointed look, before closing his eyes and crossing his arms tightly across his chest.
“Please don’t kill me,” he deadpans.
Kaveh snorts, “Well, there goes my evening plans.”
Then, Alhaitham feels something weigh onto his head as the world—
The world muffles. The background noise is gone, not like there was much before in their home, but Alhaitham can hear his own thoughts again. Wide eyes latch onto Kaveh’s proud, shy ones and Alhaitham doesn’t even bother to hide the small smile one his face.
Kaveh really is a genius. A stupidly kindhearted and caring genius. He really did doubt the Light of Kshahrewar’s abilities to figure out how to fix the headphones. And he also doubted his ability to function with almost no sleep, apparently. Though, Alhaitham already knows all this from their student days.
“Thank you, Kaveh,” he breathes out.
Kaveh looks slightly bashful and his cheeks flush a light pink. He doesn’t even call Alhaitham out for being strangely kind. Though, both of them have been gentler with each other since last night.
“It wasn’t too hard to figure out,” his roommate responds, because the fool is unable to accept any form of compliment or gratitude.
Kaveh’s smile morphs into a smirk, his eyes holding a glint of mischief, and suddenly Alhaitham is mildly afraid of what the blond is going to say.
“ But … I did modify them so that you’ll be able to hear my voice, even with the noise cancelling on. You can’t block me out in arguments anymore!” Kaveh looks so adorably proud of himself, why did he just think that?
The scribe sighs exasperatedly at his own thoughts, passing it off as a sigh of complaint since he’ll have no escape to Kaveh’s endless rants. But actually, come to think of it, Alhaitham doesn’t mind the modification that much.
“But uh, if you have it on the max then my voice will become slightly muffled, but you can still hear me. I don’t want my voice to become overwhelming if you ever have an attack like yesterday again. Or if anything happens then at least you’ll be able to hear me,” Kaveh says, voice growing quieter.
And Alhaitham genuinely feels touched that the man has put so much consideration into this project. It makes his heart swell with an unnerving amount of gratitude, and a hint of another emotion that he can’t quite place a label on.
Alhaitham nods and contently reaches out for the now cold coffee, and takes a sip. It’s just how he likes it, and it tastes like home, made by Kaveh’s hand. After all, the house wouldn’t be a home without Kaveh.
But still, the scribe can’t let every morning be mundane and peaceful like this, so he downs the whole cup of coffee, sets the mug down and says with a teasing smile, “Disgusting.”
Almost comically, Kaveh’s face contorts dramatically and he jabs a finger in his direction, “ Excuse you! I decided to be nice this morning and make you that lovely cup of coffee—“
Alhaitham turns the noise cancelling up a few notches, fully aware that it will not block Kaveh’s voice out, and spins on his heel to the door, ignoring the man completely.
If Kaveh believes that he can stop Alhaitham from blanking him mid argument by just modifying his headphones, then he is highly mistaken.
He slips his shoes on and grabs his key, then after barely any hesitation, grabs Kaveh’s key too.
“—hey! I know you can hear me, Haitham, don’t you dare just walk out…!”
Alhaitham turns around before opening the door, and flashes a teasing smile at Kaveh, deciding to do his Haravatat Darshan justice.
“Goodbye, darling dear!”