in plain sight | al-haitham x kaveh |

my mirror, my light

Oh.

Al-Haitham is Kaveh's soulmate, isn't he?

A million emotions rush into Kaveh all at once, leaving him feeling as if he were being set on fire, feeling more than he probably has in the past few years combined.

There could be no other answer. There it is, in al-Haitham's hand, drawn into Kaveh's very skin.

He blinks as his eyes burn, his hands shaking with more emotion than that meek mortal vessel of his could ever contain.

A million feelings wrack through Kaveh. He shakes, his vision blurring as his brain pounds in his skull. The world spins in a great mess of teal and orange as Kaveh looks into al-Haitham's eyes –which have yet to leave Kaveh's as they stare intensely into his soul.

He feels as if his greatest secrets, the deepest corners of himself are on display for all the world to see. It's not as if they are particularly hard to find; one really only has to look at the Palace of Alcazarzaray to get a good grasp of both his greatest joys and darkest moments.

But al-Haitham is not looking at the Palace of Alcazarzaray. His gaze is piercing as it lingers on Kaveh, with all his messy hair and dark circles. He looks at him as he does his books, scanning each inch of him as if to glean every bit of information he can. He doesn't doubt that he could extract his whole life's story to this point; after all, was it not al-Haitham who had been able to uncover all that Kaveh had buried about himself and reveal what he had tried so hard to suppress? Was that not the reason they had spent so long apart, allowing the edges of al-Haitham's face to grow so unfamiliar?

Mirthless chuckles dribble from Kaveh's lips. The irony of it all could kill him: the man and the house he discarded tied to him by the universe, challenging him to try to leave again, prying his own house, his own choices from lifeless fingers before thrusting this mess upon him. Fate looks him in the eye as he dances on destiny's stage, the crowd daring him to walk away again. The weight of all the world's water upon him, seeing just what it will take for him to break again.

There's a million reasons not to take the key.

The first of which would of course be the concept of "stranger danger," This, however, was dismissed rather quickly. For all the animosity their fight had created between them, Kaveh fails to come up with a reason al-Haitham would hurt him–physically, at least. Such a thing would simply be too much effort, and his cushy government job wouldn't be worth the risk.

However, Kaveh also fails to think of why al-Haitham– pitiless, unbothered al-Haitham– would go so far as to invite Kaveh to stay in his own home. But the way his heart rate spikes is not out of fear, and even if Kaveh's hands shake and his throat closes up and everything feels all too loud, he knows he is safe. After all, his soul knows al-Haitham's, despite everything.

But then there's the shame of it all, the realization of just how prideful Kaveh had been, and how it had been the death of him. The least he can do is keep his head held high; he got himself into this mess, he alone can get himself out of it. Al-Haitham's cruelty– or pity, whatever the hell had tempted him to offer something so crazy to Kaveh–has no place in this life of his. He could take it and throw it out the window for all he cared.

It's not like Kaveh has a right to receive help like this anyway, not after ending the project that supposedly earned him the house and then rescinding whatever rights he had to it anyway. No, this house was never Kaveh's, and it most certainly couldn't be his now. He didn't deserve it, not after all he'd done to throw it away.

Al-Haitham gives him a look as he waits for his answer. His eyebrow raises in that way Kaveh has tried many times–and failed just as many–to imitate before.