Chapter Text
Kaveh was an idealist, and he had never been ashamed of it until now. He had never been ashamed of himself until now.
Kaveh is an artist, and a capable one at that. He has never hated himself or his creations because he is well aware of his capabilities. He is a perfectionist, not a self-loathing artist. That’s a common misconception that people make about him. Just because he believes his art could always be better (hence why he’s called a perfectionist) doesn’t mean he is ashamed of his art. His frustration does not, and has never, equated to hatred. He is creative, capable, and ambitious.
He is also an idealist. That is something he hates right now, not his art.
Maybe Alhaitham was right all those years ago , he thought.
Alhaitham had told him that his kindness and idealistic beliefs would lead to his downfall. These things about Kaveh would only fuel his artistic ambition and lead him down a more tragic path than Macbeth’s path in his own play.
Kaveh had dismissed him, calling him an arrogant fool that’s incapable of expressing anything other than apathy. He called him names, he was called names, and he ripped his copy of their paper. What they called each other didn’t matter because the moral of the story is that they haven’t spoken in years.
How ironic that Kaveh had dismissed him, only to end up riddled in debt with nothing to show other than one magnificent palace. Kaveh is proud of his work, but he hates that he got himself in such a pathetic position he swore he’d never be in because of it. The thought, Maybe Alhaitham was right , plagues his thoughts. Alhaitham himself has been plaguing his thoughts for years.
He had ended up in the tavern, having nowhere to go and no one to console him. He decided to drink his sorrows away. Kaveh was an attractive man and he knew it, he had no business spending money on drinks when he had no money to spend on a home. Throughout the night, he had charmed different men and women into buying him a drink or two, but none of the conversations were of interest to him and never went much further than simple small talk and flattery.
It’s gotten to that point in the night where Kaveh speaks to no one, not even Lambad, he doesn’t order anything, and he doesn’t look up. He simply lays his head down in his arms while resting against the bar. Lambad has grown fond of Kaveh, so he doesn’t wake him up. Kaveh knows this, which is why he was so confused when he woke and heard someone calling his name.
“Kaveh?”
Kaveh looked up to see a surprisingly familiar grey-haired man standing in front of him. He looked familiar to Kaveh, but he looked almost nothing like he did when Kaveh knew him in the Akademiya. During their time in the Akademiya, Alhaitham had acne, a baby face (which was a total juxtaposition to his constant stoic expression), and he was far lankier. The man in front of Kaveh now had grown into his features, cleared up his face save for a few minor scars, and definitely bulked up. Regardless of all the change, Kaveh could recognize that stoic expression miles away. Alhaitham always had his eyebrows downturned and his mouth flat, only ever letting emotion seep through the slight glint in his eyes. Had Kaveh been just a little more sober, he would have recognized Alhaitham’s worry reflected in his eyes.
“Why are you here?” Kaveh asks.
Alhaitham sits, too close for Kaveh’s comfort, “I too am a resident of Sumeru City, in case you forgot.”
“How unfortunate,” Kaveh hiccups, “All this change yet your smart mouth hasn’t left.”
“Oh? What change, senior?”
“Shut your mouth.” Alhaitham is surprisingly silent after Kaveh’s response.
“Kaveh, why are you here ?” The sudden serious tone of the conversation makes Kaveh feel queasy.
“I don’t owe you an explanation of anything.”
Alhaitham is, once again, silent before responding. “I saw the palace.”
“Then you shouldn’t need an explanation,” Kaveh quips back. He knows that Alhaitham is anything but stupid.
“Do you have a place to stay?”
That was the question that Kaveh was dreading. Answering it would mean admitting tha no, he does not have a place to stay. No, he has no funds to provide a roof over his own head. Yes, he is riddled in debt. Answering it would mean losing all his pride, and to Alhaitham of all people. However, Kaveh’s silence was enough for Alhaitham.
“Live with me,” Alhaitham’s proposition shocked Kaveh to his core. Enough so that he thought the alcohol he consumed was playing tricks on him now. Once he looked up, he saw Alhaitham looking at him earnestly. “Live with me,” he repeated, “It’s the most logical thing to do considering your current predicament. The house was supposed to be yours as well.”
“But it isn’t, you know that,” Kaveh himself doesn’t even know why he’s fighting back. He needs the home.
“Kaveh, you’re being irrational.”
“Aren’t I always according to you?” Years have gone by yet the bickering between the two men flows as if no time had passed. It had taken a few more minutes of going back and forth before Kaveh had turned over his pride and accepted Alhaitham’s offer.
The walk back to Alhaitham’s house was silent and slow. Kaveh refused to let Alhaitham touch him or help him, even when he stumbled in the streets. It wasn’t because he hated Alhaitham, far from it, it was because pushing Alhaitham away seemed like the easiest way to protect himself. Their argument years ago singed his heart and Kaveh was afraid to make many friends after it. He was a social butterfly, but no one got close enough to Kaveh because he did not let them.
“This is it,” Alhaitham said, climbing up a few stairs before inserting a key into the door.
Kaveh was thoroughly impressed when he walked in and saw the house, but for all the wrong reasons, “I didn’t know someone could make such poor decisions whilst decorating.”
“By all means, you can leave where you came in.”
Kaveh laughs, but his laugh is devoid of any amusement, “Don’t tempt me.”
It’s silent between them again, but this one is plagued with uncertainty that creates palpable tension. Of course, Alhaitham is the one to speak up first, “Your room is down the hall to the right.”
“Okay,” Kaveh makes his way to his designated room, muttering a “thanks” once he thinks he’s too far for Alhaitham to hear. The room is bleak and looks as if it’s been vacant since even Alhaitham moved in here. Kaveh has nothing to move in here save for some art supplies and some spare clothes that have been left at the palace for now. Kaveh is unsure of what his future looks like. He doesn’t know how his work will go on, how his debt will be settled (if he ever settles it), how his relationship with Alhaitham may or may not change, and so much more.
Most of all, he is unsure whether he’ll come home to a house or a home and Kaveh thinks that’s the scariest uncertainty out of them all.