[ fine. he unceremoniously lets go of kaveh - if he so badly wanted to stumble around sumeru city further ruining whatever reputation he had left after the carry-on in the bar, so be it. to the architect's credit, he manages to solidify his position on his two feet once more instead of falling ass first into the manicured gardens behind him.
however, it seems as though alhaitham's patience is beginning to run out as kaveh continues his aggressive tirade, punctuated with those back and forth barbs they're so used to - so why is it pissing him off so much right now?
a scowl creeps on to the scribe's normally fairly neutral face as what he's perceived as only offers of help are ridiculed upon that lyrical voice. why did he bother to even come out and search for kaveh in the first place? alhaitham is struggling to find any sort of logical reason that this entire escapade had been even remotely worth it.
taking a half-step forward so they're almost toe-to-toe, the taller man looks oddly imposing as his temper is clearly piqued. unlike kaveh, he's absolutely unafraid to engage in eye contact and to that end, fixes him with a glower that could wither a plant at a hundred paces.
while he'd come out with at least halfway decent intentions to make sure the blonde wasn't destroying himself, he's now instead wondering how quickly he can get his house locks changed.
in a low, dangerous hiss; ]
I won't be waiting at your beck and call next time you need something.
[ normally interpersonal relationship issues wouldn't annoy him so much, but for some reason, alhaitham feels - genuinely angry. hurt? mm, he doesn't know, doesn't really care enough day to day to analyse these kinds of feelings to be able to pinpoint them with any accuracy. ]
If you want to act this stupidly, be my guest. Go drink yourself into a stupor and be a coward, if that's what you want so badly.
[ and he lets that last word hang heavily in the air for a moment before straightening back up, looking to leave - unless kaveh had anything else to throw at him. ]
[ There's a lot about this moment he's regretting, now that they've been thrown so violently into it. He hates the way Alhaitham stares him straight in the face, a cold glower in his eyes that makes Kaveh's stomach do uncomfortable, unpleasant flips in his abdomen, because oh Archons help him he's really fucked up this time, but also how is it possible that the scribe looks so good like this?
Somehow, the thought emboldens him, and where he's still shaky on his feet Kaveh manages to hold Alhaitham's glare and return it, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he takes the other half-step that brings them toe-to-toeβ and the part of his brain that's still drunk is insisting that he just close the space and shut the scribe's arrogant mouth with a kissβ his upper lip curling in scorn. ]
Good! [ He can't hiss the way Alhaitham does, the word half-shouted instead as his fists tighten in an effort to hold his ground and not do something heinously stupid. ] I don't want your help anyway!!
[ It's the kind of argument that might have left him furiously teary-eyed after the fact if he weren't drunk and horny. The scribe cuts to his core in a way that no one else has ever seemed to be able to, understanding him well enough to tear him to shreds without blinking an eyelid. Which just makes Kaveh wonder all over again why he's supposedly trying to help him tonight, why he's making the architect's problems his business when usually he stays the hell out of it allβ
Maybe it's this new fucking hero complex he's got.
That's the thought on his mind when Alhaitham calls him a coward, and Kaveh feels something break, and very suddenly there are tears glimmering in the corners of his crimson eyes. And as the other man straightens up, but before he can turn away, he swings with one of those clenched fists, aiming to hit him square in the jaw. ]
[ so, perhaps he'd expected some more low blows to come out of kaveh's mouth - some more insults about his character, maybe? about how little he cared about those around him, and that obviously alhaitham's interests could only be self-serving, like coming out tonight?
what he hadn't expected had been the blonde to actually throw a jab straight at his face, and to that end, he was actually quite unprepared.
they'd fought fraught and often, but had never come to the point of exchanging blows past angry words yelled down the corridors of a house that felt empty if either of them were missing from it. as the pain blossoms in the scribe's jaw, he's dimly aware he'd done at least something to deserve it - but that more rational part is drowned out for want of wounded pride, frustration, annoyance, why can't kaveh just pull his fucking head out and let him in.
taking a staggered step backwards (because kaveh wasn't weak by any means - he was all lithe, wiry muscle, a glass cannon in a beautiful vessel) a gloved hand reaches up to clutch his mouth where he'd been struck, the flash of something wild crossing his face for the briefest of moments. it was rare, so rare to see the scribe's resolve slip, but kaveh was the only one that could irk him so, worm his way into his goddamn brain and live there just as lackadaisical on the rent as he did in his real home.
without thinking, alhaitham closes the distance between them again with one furious stride and grabs kaveh by the shoulders, fingers curling into his shirt. part of him wants to simply throw the architect into the bush; kick him out, for good this time; perhaps, spend a great deal of time elucidating to him his many, many flaws; but despite the pain in his jaw, he can't bring himself to do any of those things.
the tears in kaveh's eyes act like his kryptonite - and while he's not going to turn this into a brawl, it only builds on his immense frustration at the situation. voice raised for the first time since they'd started this carry-on; ]
What the hell has gotten into you?
[ he demands scathingly, emerald eyes flashing as he stares kaveh down - searching, for answers that he was obviously not going to get. almost as quickly as he'd grabbed the blonde's slender shoulders, he lets them go like kaveh is white hot. maybe he remembers the more rational part of himself; that they're in public. maybe he just realises that perhaps, this is all a foregone conclusion anyway.
taking a step back, it's alhaitham's turn to curl his hands into fists, obviously trying to quell some of the rage bubbling up within. he couldn't let himself get sucked into this vortex - and there was obviously no point in being part of kaveh's tempest anyway. turning on his heel, he looks over his shoulder back towards kaveh - but down at the ground, not directly at him. ]
You won't have to worry about my 'help' at all in the future. How stupid I was, not to see that you were doing perfectly without it.
[ There's something unsettling about the look that crosses so briefly over Alhaitham's face as he lifts a hand to his mouth, a wild expression so different from the usual calm, stoic countenance he wears. For a single moment, the architect's lips part as if to offer an apology, but the words don't come; even if they did they'd be lost anyway in the way that the other charges forward and grabs him, all cold fury and digging fingers.
The anger and hurt is still bubbling and churning in his own gut, shining in the tears at the corners of his eyes, but something in that furious look staggers him into a shame that prevents him from acting further, even as Alhaitham drops his grip again and steps away.
What the hell has gotten into him, is the question on the scribe's lips... and the truth is: a lot. So much, in fact, that even lips loose from too much alcohol won't spill a word of it. So much that he would rather punch his way out of a situation than talk about it, lest his pride be left shattered.
Never mind that his pride is already in pieces at his feet.
...He's well and truly fucked things up this time, hasn't he?
For several long moments, all Kaveh can do is stand there as the scribe strides away, watching the broad shoulders of his departing figure in a silence that rings loud in his ears. And it feels like hours before he pulls himself away, slinking in the opposite direction in the search of something strong with which to drown this newest sorrow that he's just created for himself. ]
no subject
however, it seems as though alhaitham's patience is beginning to run out as kaveh continues his aggressive tirade, punctuated with those back and forth barbs they're so used to - so why is it pissing him off so much right now?
a scowl creeps on to the scribe's normally fairly neutral face as what he's perceived as only offers of help are ridiculed upon that lyrical voice. why did he bother to even come out and search for kaveh in the first place? alhaitham is struggling to find any sort of logical reason that this entire escapade had been even remotely worth it.
taking a half-step forward so they're almost toe-to-toe, the taller man looks oddly imposing as his temper is clearly piqued. unlike kaveh, he's absolutely unafraid to engage in eye contact and to that end, fixes him with a glower that could wither a plant at a hundred paces.
while he'd come out with at least halfway decent intentions to make sure the blonde wasn't destroying himself, he's now instead wondering how quickly he can get his house locks changed.
in a low, dangerous hiss; ]
I won't be waiting at your beck and call next time you need something.
[ normally interpersonal relationship issues wouldn't annoy him so much, but for some reason, alhaitham feels - genuinely angry. hurt? mm, he doesn't know, doesn't really care enough day to day to analyse these kinds of feelings to be able to pinpoint them with any accuracy. ]
If you want to act this stupidly, be my guest. Go drink yourself into a stupor and be a coward, if that's what you want so badly.
[ and he lets that last word hang heavily in the air for a moment before straightening back up, looking to leave - unless kaveh had anything else to throw at him. ]
no subject
Somehow, the thought emboldens him, and where he's still shaky on his feet Kaveh manages to hold Alhaitham's glare and return it, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he takes the other half-step that brings them toe-to-toeβ and the part of his brain that's still drunk is insisting that he just close the space and shut the scribe's arrogant mouth with a kissβ his upper lip curling in scorn. ]
Good! [ He can't hiss the way Alhaitham does, the word half-shouted instead as his fists tighten in an effort to hold his ground and not do something heinously stupid. ] I don't want your help anyway!!
[ It's the kind of argument that might have left him furiously teary-eyed after the fact if he weren't drunk and horny. The scribe cuts to his core in a way that no one else has ever seemed to be able to, understanding him well enough to tear him to shreds without blinking an eyelid. Which just makes Kaveh wonder all over again why he's supposedly trying to help him tonight, why he's making the architect's problems his business when usually he stays the hell out of it allβ
Maybe it's this new fucking hero complex he's got.
That's the thought on his mind when Alhaitham calls him a coward, and Kaveh feels something break, and very suddenly there are tears glimmering in the corners of his crimson eyes. And as the other man straightens up, but before he can turn away, he swings with one of those clenched fists, aiming to hit him square in the jaw. ]
no subject
what he hadn't expected had been the blonde to actually throw a jab straight at his face, and to that end, he was actually quite unprepared.
they'd fought fraught and often, but had never come to the point of exchanging blows past angry words yelled down the corridors of a house that felt empty if either of them were missing from it. as the pain blossoms in the scribe's jaw, he's dimly aware he'd done at least something to deserve it - but that more rational part is drowned out for want of wounded pride, frustration, annoyance, why can't kaveh just pull his fucking head out and let him in.
taking a staggered step backwards (because kaveh wasn't weak by any means - he was all lithe, wiry muscle, a glass cannon in a beautiful vessel) a gloved hand reaches up to clutch his mouth where he'd been struck, the flash of something wild crossing his face for the briefest of moments. it was rare, so rare to see the scribe's resolve slip, but kaveh was the only one that could irk him so, worm his way into his goddamn brain and live there just as lackadaisical on the rent as he did in his real home.
without thinking, alhaitham closes the distance between them again with one furious stride and grabs kaveh by the shoulders, fingers curling into his shirt. part of him wants to simply throw the architect into the bush; kick him out, for good this time; perhaps, spend a great deal of time elucidating to him his many, many flaws; but despite the pain in his jaw, he can't bring himself to do any of those things.
the tears in kaveh's eyes act like his kryptonite - and while he's not going to turn this into a brawl, it only builds on his immense frustration at the situation. voice raised for the first time since they'd started this carry-on; ]
What the hell has gotten into you?
[ he demands scathingly, emerald eyes flashing as he stares kaveh down - searching, for answers that he was obviously not going to get. almost as quickly as he'd grabbed the blonde's slender shoulders, he lets them go like kaveh is white hot. maybe he remembers the more rational part of himself; that they're in public. maybe he just realises that perhaps, this is all a foregone conclusion anyway.
taking a step back, it's alhaitham's turn to curl his hands into fists, obviously trying to quell some of the rage bubbling up within. he couldn't let himself get sucked into this vortex - and there was obviously no point in being part of kaveh's tempest anyway. turning on his heel, he looks over his shoulder back towards kaveh - but down at the ground, not directly at him. ]
You won't have to worry about my 'help' at all in the future. How stupid I was, not to see that you were doing perfectly without it.
no subject
The anger and hurt is still bubbling and churning in his own gut, shining in the tears at the corners of his eyes, but something in that furious look staggers him into a shame that prevents him from acting further, even as Alhaitham drops his grip again and steps away.
What the hell has gotten into him, is the question on the scribe's lips... and the truth is: a lot. So much, in fact, that even lips loose from too much alcohol won't spill a word of it. So much that he would rather punch his way out of a situation than talk about it, lest his pride be left shattered.
Never mind that his pride is already in pieces at his feet.
...He's well and truly fucked things up this time, hasn't he?
For several long moments, all Kaveh can do is stand there as the scribe strides away, watching the broad shoulders of his departing figure in a silence that rings loud in his ears. And it feels like hours before he pulls himself away, slinking in the opposite direction in the search of something strong with which to drown this newest sorrow that he's just created for himself. ]