Forever Yours, Alhaitham

5

Kaveh had first noticed it when digging up weeds.

He had been sitting on his heels, his knees digging into the earth with sweat dripping down his forehead. His hair cascaded down his neck, sticking in dark waves to his skin as the heat in the atmosphere pressed in on his body.

Alhaitham had wordlessly tapped on his shoulder, something cold and wet against his arm. It was a cup filled with clear water, the ice in the glass clinking around noisily. A word of thanks was murmured, a nod in return. Alhaitham was not one for words when he deemed the conversation unnecessary, rather conveying his thoughts in actions.

Kaveh's voice filled the house, but Alhaitham's presence filled it just the same. They existed in duality.

"God, it's hot out here," Kaveh mumbled through his sips, Alhaitham merely nodding in reply.

He hadn't thought anything of his silence until Alhaitham turned, his face contorting into one of pain, a rare expression that contrasted with his stark indifference. Alhaitham turned, trying to shield himself as he coughed, his shoulders hunching slightly.

A soft curse, a backwards glance towards Kaveh.

"Alhaitham...?"

"It's— I'm fine. You're right, it's too hot. I'll be inside."

The movements as he stumbled back inside were filled with fleeting pain, but not in just a physical way. His expression when he turned was one of a deep melancholy that reached through his soul, buried in his very essence.

It was so unlike Alhaitham to make such an expression that Kaveh stopped completely, staring at the empty space where Alhaitham had been.

Three flowers remained in his midst, cut from the branches, a soft red-gold that glittered in the noontime sun.

He hadn't remembered planting them, hadn't remembered Alhaitham buying him the seeds or commenting on their appearance.

It was the first time Kaveh had noticed anything remotely abnormal. It was months before the Akademiya had deemed him in dire need of healthcare. Gardens were supposed to stay in the confinements of the metal wire that caged them. Petals were not supposed to bleed upon official documents of the Akademiya.

Kaveh hadn't questioned the blooms. He hadn't questioned the expressions on Alhaitham's face. He deemed it without importance if Alhaitham was truly hiding it from him. The fact that he was hiding anything hurt, although not enough to communicate it with him.

Everyone had their secrets– hell, even he. If Alhaitham wanted to keep his cards close, he would not push that decision.

Besides, getting Alhaitham to talk about his feelings was like trying to get a dog to meow, or the clouds to rain snow in high degree weather. He would broaden the topic and avoid the question in that elusive way of his, effectively answering none of Kaveh's questions but still holding onto that same bluntness he seemed to carry from conversation to conversation.

It annoyed him, but he knew that was just Alhaitham's way. He expressed through actions rather than words. To apologize, he paid for Kaveh's wine. To argue, he cut a few of Kaveh's favorite flowers to place inside the vase. Of course, he drank half the wine for himself and made sure to plant new seeds, but the motive behind his action still spoke louder than any of his calculated debates ever could.

Dinner was silent that night. When Alhaitham stood, clearing both his and Kaveh's dishes, he accidentally nudged the vase. A single petal from the Calla Lilies they had imported a few weeks ago wilted onto the tablecloth.

Kaveh had picked it up, twirling it in his fingers, a thought on the tip of his tongue but too cowardly to speak aloud. It was pathetic; even his own keychain was more corageous than he. The lion keychain, at least, knew its purpose.

The architect, however, was still questioning his.