[ After that initial glare, Kaveh likes to think he's doing a reasonably good job of ignoring Alhaitham. His head remains stubbornly turned away, without the little angry glances that he desperately wants to shoot in the other's direction; he barely even tenses up when he feels someone— three guesses who and the first two don't count— slide into the seat next to him, even as his scowl deepens and the person on the other side looks at him warily.

(His outbursts regarding Alhaitham are well-known in this particular establishment, after all.)

He's halfway into a deep drink— ignoring, all the while ignoring— when the other's smooth voice sounds behind him, flat and emotionless, and it's like a switch is flipped; Kaveh whirls on him, nearly toppling off the barstool in the process, and jabs a finger in his face, the other hand slamming the cup back onto the bar so hard that some of the liquid sloshes out over his hand. ]

You...! [ If the slam didn't make half the tavern look their way, the volume and pitch of his voice certainly does, opposite in every way to his roommate's calm, flat tone, words broken and slurred together. ] I doan need a welfare sheck, you arrogant, self-importann ashhole! Why won'tshoo juzz leave me alone?!

[ Oh, but that spin was too quick. He sways in place, the slow blink of his lashes taking away from his angry appearance for just a moment before he recovers, and looks back at the bartender, a wide spread of his arms to indicate Alhaitham sitting next to him. ]

Didn't I stell you thiss asshole wooud show upp?

[ The bartender, to his credit, just smiles awkwardly and places two cups of water in front of Alhaitham and the noisy, angry blonde. ]