[ kaveh nods. the motion is that of spider's silk and mulberry petals. the flyaway hairs along kaveh's temple settle along the exposed length of alhaitham's neck. in the slant of the moonlight, the colour seems to dissolve into the spun embroidered floss of a weaver's canvas, a single portmanteau meant to last. alhaitham allows it, the settling of kaveh's weight as his breathing evens. the hum of kaveh's lips begin somewhere in the caverns of kaveh's chest and ends somewhere resonating between the ribcage of alhaitham's - and has that not always been the case? in a dialectic, the two of them persistently fail to achieve synthesis; perhaps once, one of them may have considered that to be flaw more than strength. but alhaitham has always seen it as thus: the stolid orbit of two binary stars, the perpetual moving of a racing benchmark, and above all else, a final end at the denouement of a long, winding road.
has it not always been thus? alhaitham and kaveh.
tonight, alhaitham's hold on kaveh shifts just so, one arm around the thin cross of his waist and the other winding its way to the back of kaveh's neck. alhaitham's fingers are sure as he finds the gnarls of muscle there just where shoulder meets nape. he presses his fingers into where it seems most tense, and begins to tease out the knots one by one. ]
Do I? [ alhaitham breathes out in the way of a sigh. the eddy seems nearly amused for it. ] It is merely the same soap I have used for years.
no subject
has it not always been thus? alhaitham and kaveh.
tonight, alhaitham's hold on kaveh shifts just so, one arm around the thin cross of his waist and the other winding its way to the back of kaveh's neck. alhaitham's fingers are sure as he finds the gnarls of muscle there just where shoulder meets nape. he presses his fingers into where it seems most tense, and begins to tease out the knots one by one. ]
Do I? [ alhaitham breathes out in the way of a sigh. the eddy seems nearly amused for it. ] It is merely the same soap I have used for years.