[ Just one short day ago, Kaveh stood in this room, talking— and then yelling— about how crazy Alhaitham made him feel, about how he was ready to leave, how he had a house picked out. All for naught, but the truth in his words still stands: the scribe makes him feel crazy.
Not because he's unfair, but because he sees. Impassive coppered emerald gems watch every step Kaveh takes in this world and see through the masks he wears, perceive without effort through walls he's so careful to place between himself and the others in his life. And then lips curve in a hint of an ironic smile, reading all those things and more like a laundry list of Kaveh's faults, those things that are true but shoved between the spaces of his world in the hope no one will see.
Alhaitham always sees, and Kaveh hates it— because it reminds him of how he hates himself.
He swallows the guilt— he tries— and closes his eyes against the feeling of the other man papering over his wounds, doing physically what neither of them can hope to do emotionally. It has everything to do with who Kaveh is, Alhaitham says, and to that end the blonde finds himself wondering: if not for his peace of mind, then— ]
Then why tell me? [ he asks, and his teeth chew absently at a fingernail, ruining further the well-defined shapes in which he usually takes pride, though dented and broken from the physical work of the last few days. ] You can't lie to me, Alhaitham— you took on extra work for this, this opportunity to research Sachin's involvement in everything—
[ Thank you, he wants to say, but he doesn't. ]
—but if you knew before telling me that it would not change things, why tell me at all? Did you hope against your better judgement that I'd finally see the light somehow? [ There's a bitter, nearly sarcastic tone to his voice as he laughs. ] Or is it merely that you believe that, as a citizen of Sumeru, such knowledge is owed to me?
no subject
Not because he's unfair, but because he sees. Impassive coppered emerald gems watch every step Kaveh takes in this world and see through the masks he wears, perceive without effort through walls he's so careful to place between himself and the others in his life. And then lips curve in a hint of an ironic smile, reading all those things and more like a laundry list of Kaveh's faults, those things that are true but shoved between the spaces of his world in the hope no one will see.
Alhaitham always sees, and Kaveh hates it— because it reminds him of how he hates himself.
He swallows the guilt— he tries— and closes his eyes against the feeling of the other man papering over his wounds, doing physically what neither of them can hope to do emotionally. It has everything to do with who Kaveh is, Alhaitham says, and to that end the blonde finds himself wondering: if not for his peace of mind, then— ]
Then why tell me? [ he asks, and his teeth chew absently at a fingernail, ruining further the well-defined shapes in which he usually takes pride, though dented and broken from the physical work of the last few days. ] You can't lie to me, Alhaitham— you took on extra work for this, this opportunity to research Sachin's involvement in everything—
[ Thank you, he wants to say, but he doesn't. ]
—but if you knew before telling me that it would not change things, why tell me at all? Did you hope against your better judgement that I'd finally see the light somehow? [ There's a bitter, nearly sarcastic tone to his voice as he laughs. ] Or is it merely that you believe that, as a citizen of Sumeru, such knowledge is owed to me?