░⋅ ˚₊‧୨ৎ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ꜱᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇʀʀʏ ᴛᴇᴀ ⊹ ࣪ ˖୨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅|| ᴋᴀᴠᴇᴛʜᴀᴍ || ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ░

CHAPTER 3

Kaveh had finished fixing Mehrak. The little robot making small noises, the 'eyes' blinking before being able to float around again.
"Beep boop!" It says and Kaveh sighs in relief. "I should stop taking you to the construction sites.. All that dust.." He mumbles, patting the robot and quickly walking out.
He finished.

It had been a week since the outing he and Al Haitham had together, two days after that dinner Al Haitham left without any notice. It infuriated the blond how that scribe left whenever he wanted. Not even a goodbye.
Kaveh had been slightly missing the silver head. More worried than so as it had been 5 days now that Al Haitham was gone.

Kaveh finished his cleaning, humming to a song that Mehrak was playing. He cleaned up himself, taking off his apron and gloves, dumping them in the laundry basket. He grabbed a towel and headed off to the bathroom to shower.
Kaveh was always precise on how he showered. He always had his water steam, always the exact same soap with the exact same scent of the basic vanilla. He always took extra care of his hair. And of course, when he finished his shower, which would be at the specific timing of 6PM, he would always finish off with skin care which would only consist of a sunscreen and moisturizer.

Kaveh took good care of himself, but at the same time, he was stupid to not do so. He would accidentally starve himself. Acknowledging the fact that he was hungry but ignoring it for his work. Today was one of those days, telling himself he would have lunch later.. Which turned to dinner. Only after he finished his projects.

Kaveh sank on his chair, at his desk, hair wrapped in a towel and in a gown as he took the time of waiting for his hair to dry as to fix his newer projects.

The blond sketched the night away, unable to think of architectural designs. How to fit the client's needs and yet add his own touch.

The client was a florist. She wanted her shop on the bottom floor and her personal rooms on the top. To give more of a nature vibes, where the rake boards, they could have floral prints in them, have poles lean down, engraved with small flower patterns, the windows should be wide, and behind the windows it should have a perfect flower display, and shelves almost everywhere. The window frames are thick or thin? Thick to give more depth to the actual house or thin to give more room to display the flowers? Kaveh groaned, shaking his leg, sketching out whatever came to mind. Should the second floor be larger than the first floor, to give a Mondstadtian appearance of a townhouse or have it more of a sumerian house?
The blond shook his head, throwing his towel off and letting his hands run through his hair.
"What should it be like?" He muttered. "Gosh.. I need a starter plan or blueprint, should I make multiple?" He spoke to himself.

Kaveh had a habit of speaking to himself when he was doing his work. Al Haitham would complain about that. How his whining and speaking to himself was heard from Al Haitham's room and how he would need to wear noise cancelling ear pieces.

Kaveh shook his head, getting up and quickly changing out of his robe into a plain white large shirt over some boxers. Al Haitham wasn't around so he couldn't bother to grab out a pair of exterior clothing. His hair fell to his face, trying to brush it out of his face with his fingers, siitting back to his desk.

He sketched and sketched. His hands stained with the graphite, his palm smudged with lead, and pen marks. He drew quickly. Looking back at the papers that the florist sent of documents on what her necessities were. He groaned out loud.
"What more could she possibly want!? Her needs are messy and uncategorised I.. I!" Kaveh exclaimed. His cheeks burned red as he whined to himself, getting up from his chair, glancing up at the clock.

7 o'clock had turned to 9 o'clock and the architecture's stomach growled. He sighed, he wasn't in the mood to eat.
He reached for his door, his mind still rummaging about his project. How could he move forward on this? He moved to the kitchen, turning the kettle on as he hovered over the counter, deep in thoughts. Kaveh fixed up his coffee, before hearing his door click.