[ The sting of medicine serves as a physical translation of the incisive words that speak to feelings Kaveh would rather hide. Despite this, he welcomes it, distraction that it is from the blurring sheen of wet glossing over his eyes, the aching vacancy where his heart drums to the tempo of years-old pain. Perhaps an excuse, even, if he's questioned about the glittering droplets that slip free when his eyes closed. It hurts, that's all, he can say. Alhaitham won't believe him, of course, but such a fact is apparently inevitable in the eyes of the gods, who have seen to it that the other man possesses somehow an almost-encyclopedic knowledge of Kaveh's heart.
Almost, because by some small mercy, he has been seemingly unable to ascertain the truth of Kaveh's greatest secret of all: his own place in it.
And usually, Alhaitham's appraisal of the situation would be correct; usually, Kaveh would refuse to seek comfort in the words of someone who offers only caustic honesty; usually, Kaveh would believe he deserves no comfort at all. But the weariness has settled into his bones, mental and physical exhaustion holding brain and body hostage, and the dark night of his grief seems even longer still in the face of knowledge found anew. Yet overlapping that is the knowledge that his roommate took time out of a schedule usually so selfishly guarded, sought answers for his benefit and his aloneβ
Alhaitham may have no words of comfort for him, but he's somehow become Kaveh's soft landing nonetheless. Contrary to every expectation the architect could ever have held, the other has become the closest thing to "home" he's had in years; the only thing left waiting for him as pieces of himself have, over the years, been chiseled off and given away.
He wants to tell Alhaitham all of this, but the words feel caught in his throat. ]
That's not fair, [ is what he says instead. ] I'm not choosing the most difficult path. I know it seems that way to you, butβ [ But such a topic is one on which they have never, can never, see eye to eye. Kaveh sighs, shakes his head. ]
Just this once, will you not argue with me about this?
no subject
Almost, because by some small mercy, he has been seemingly unable to ascertain the truth of Kaveh's greatest secret of all: his own place in it.
And usually, Alhaitham's appraisal of the situation would be correct; usually, Kaveh would refuse to seek comfort in the words of someone who offers only caustic honesty; usually, Kaveh would believe he deserves no comfort at all. But the weariness has settled into his bones, mental and physical exhaustion holding brain and body hostage, and the dark night of his grief seems even longer still in the face of knowledge found anew. Yet overlapping that is the knowledge that his roommate took time out of a schedule usually so selfishly guarded, sought answers for his benefit and his aloneβ
Alhaitham may have no words of comfort for him, but he's somehow become Kaveh's soft landing nonetheless. Contrary to every expectation the architect could ever have held, the other has become the closest thing to "home" he's had in years; the only thing left waiting for him as pieces of himself have, over the years, been chiseled off and given away.
He wants to tell Alhaitham all of this, but the words feel caught in his throat. ]
That's not fair, [ is what he says instead. ] I'm not choosing the most difficult path. I know it seems that way to you, butβ [ But such a topic is one on which they have never, can never, see eye to eye. Kaveh sighs, shakes his head. ]
Just this once, will you not argue with me about this?