Scene Packs From Other Stories

②⑨•Genshin Impact

☆No OCs this time. This is my excuse to write Kavetham? Haikaveh? Dcdc, I love them and love this one-off, enjoy☆

"If you love me, then live."

FANDOM: Genshin Impact

Synopsis: Kaveh is no stranger to Al-Haitham, yet has never understood why the latter acts like he is. Time and time again Kaveh has said that its like the universe is playing pranks on them. Today it decided to play a cruel one.

_______________________

Al-Haitham panted, his breaths mirroring the disarray left by the Eremites that had ambushed them moments before. Dust lingered like a mist. Seeking shelter behind a crumbling wall, he and Kaveh found a brief haven amid the chaos, though the aftermath hinted at the cost of survival.

"Alright, they're gone." Al-Haitham murmured, surveying the battlefield.

Residual dendro particles crackled in the air, and feel smell of it was just as rich. So it's no wonder it'd clogged Al-Haitham's senses this long, especially when he's he's perceptive.

Kaveh, typically unyielding, now leaned against the worn structure, weariness etched across his features. Al-Haitham's eyes widened at the telltale crimson stain marring Kaveh's clothes, and he realized he hadn't even noticed the concealed wound beneath. Clutching his side, Kaveh met Al-Haitham's gaze with a wry smile.

"So, slight problem—"

Before the words could fully register, Kaveh crumpled to the ground, his body betraying the weariness he'd concealed behind a façade of strength. Panic seized Al-Haitham, who yelled out for Kaveh but couldn't reach him in time. As he sprawled across the ground, Al-Haitham's movements became a blur—shifting him into a more comfortable position, cradled in his lap.

Blood began to pool beneath Kaveh, so quick, so much. They were Eremites, incredible warriors, and even they shouldn't be so underestimated.

"Kaveh," Al-Haitham's voice wavered, a rare tremor betraying the monotonous tone he often held.

Kaveh's eyes, usually bright, now held a dull vulnerability that Al-Haitham hadn't seen in years. The masks they both wore, the walls constructed over time, were momentarily shattered.

"I never thought I'd see the day you'd worry about me," Kaveh murmured, a rueful smile playing on his lips.

"Of course, I care," Al-Haitham erupted, the words punctuated by the gritting of his teeth. "We were friends once, and we—"

His voice faltered, caught in the maelstrom of emotions. Kaveh, his body wracked with pain, looked up at Al-Haitham through hooded eyes, confusion etched across his features. Al-Haitham's anger, once a roaring fire, flickered and gave way to something deeper, something he'd buried beneath layers of resentment.

"We loved each other once," Al-Haitham confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air.

Tears welled in Al-Haitham's eyes as he struggled to voice just what had festered between them for years. Kaveh, his own suffering evident, listened in silence.

Kaveh, his resilience momentarily eclipsed by the agony of his injuries, whispered through grit teeth and has breaths. "I still love you, Haitham."

The admission hung in the air. It was a fragile bridge between the dissonance of their past grievances and the truths they dared not confront. Al-Haitham, torn between anger and yearning, grasped Kaveh's words like a lifeline, and his hand just as tight.

"If you love me," Al-Haitham snapped, his voice now tinged with desperation, "then live. You need to live."

Kaveh's smile, bittersweet, persisted as his eyes began to flutter shut. Al-Haitham, overwhelmed by guilt and fear, cradled Kaveh's blood-stained form against him. Apologies spilled from his lips like a prayer, repeated with each tender nuzzle into Kaveh's neck.

As the first rays of dawn painted the horizon, Al-Haitham scooped up the barely conscious Kaveh, rushing towards the nearest Sumeru hospital. Of all places for this to happen, how unfortunate it was to be in the desert.

Desperation fueled his every step, his heart pounding with the desperate plea for Kaveh's survival.

Now, as daylight broke over Sumeru, Al-Haitham clung to hope, something he rarely did. The hospital loomed ahead, so near yet so far, a beacon of uncertain salvation. As he crossed the threshold into Aaru Village, he felt like he was carrying a life precariously balanced on the precipice, and in many ways he was.

Yet Al-Haitham could only pray that the gods, if they listened, would grant them another chance at a shared future.