Infuriating :: KAVETHAM/HAIKAVEH

16

Alhaitham POV (literally the whole chapter)

The return to Sumeru city after our three-day retreat at the cabin was like stepping into a whirlwind. The tranquility we'd enjoyed was quickly overshadowed by the demands of daily life. Kaveh threw himself into his work, and I found myself struggling with the constant noise and activity that seemed to intensify my overstimulation.

It was one of those particularly overwhelming days. The sun was barely up, and Kaveh was already at his drafting table, surrounded by blueprints and sketches. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his brow furrowed in concentration and frustration. I tried to focus on my own tasks, but the persistent noise of the city, the clatter of tools, and the hum of machinery grated on my nerves.

By evening, the pressure was palpable. Kaveh was muttering to himself, erasing lines and redrawing them with increasing frustration. I felt a headache building, the overstimulation pushing me to the edge.

"Kaveh," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "You've been at it all day. Maybe you should take a break."

He didn't look up, his tone clipped and sharp. "I can't Alhaitham. this project has a deadline, and I'm nowhere near finished."

"I understand, but you're not helping yourself by pushing so hard." I replies, struggling to keep my irritation in check.

He finally looked up, his eyes flashing with anger. "You think I don't know that? It's not like I have a choice. not everyone can just tune out the world like you do."

His words stung and I felt my own anger rising. "That's not fair, Kaveh. I'm trying to help."

"Help?" He scoffed. "You're always so detached, so logical. Sometimes it feels like you don't even care."

That was the breaking point. "You think I don't care?" I snapped, my voice rising. "I care more than you realise. But unlike you, I can't ignore my own limits. I'm constantly dealing with overstimulation, and it's exhausting."

Kaveh slammed his pencil down, standing up so abruptly that his chair nearly tipped over. "You have no idea what real stress is. You don't have to worry about deadlines or clients having their heads stuck so far up their arse that they don't have any fucks to give. You just have to deal with your precious peace and quiet."

The argument escalated from there, voices raised, words cutting deeper with each exchange. All the frustrations and unspoken grievances of the past week poured out, fueled by exhaustion and stress. We were both too blinded by our own anger to see the hurt in each other's eyes.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "Fine," I said coldly, "if that's how you feel, then maybe we should just stay out of each other's way."

Kaveh's face fell, his anger giving way to a pained expression. "Maybe we should." He said quietly, turning away.

The silence that followed was suffocating. I stormed out of the room, needing space to clear my head. The night air was cool, but it did little to soothe the turmoil inside me. I wondered the streets of Sumeru city, replaying the argument in my mind, over and over, each word a fresh wound.

When I finally returned back to the apartment, it was late. Kaveh's workspace was dark, and he was nowhere to be seen. After a bit of looking, I found him in the bedroom, lying on his side with his back to the door. The sight of him so vulnerable and hurt, made my heart ache.

I approached the bed quietly, sitting down beside him. "Kaveh," I said softly, my voice full of regret as I passed my hand through his hair.

He didn't move for a long moment, nor did he contest my hand in his hair. I genuinely thought he might not respond. But then before I was about to take my hand out of his hair, he turned to face me, his eyes red-rimmed and tired. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice coarse and cracking. "I didn't mean what I said."

"I know," I replied, reaching out to take his hand. "I'm sorry too. We both said shitty things we didn't mean."

He squeezed my hand, a silent acknowledgment of our shared pain. "We need to figure out a better way to handle this," he said quietly. "We can't keep hurting each other like this."

I nodded, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. "We'll figure this out." I promised. "Eventually."

We lay down, holding each other close, finding comfort in the shared silence. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but as long as we faced it and pushed through, I knew we could find our way.

The next morning, the tension from the previous night still lingered, but there was a tentative truce between us. We moved around each other carefully, not wanting to rekindle the argument. I could see the exhaustion in Kaveh's eyes, and I knew he saw the same in mine.

After a quiet breakfast, we both went out seperate ways for work. The day felt long and heavy, the weight of unresolved feelings hanging over me. I buried myself in my tasks, trying to push the thoughts of our fight to the back of my mind. But every now and then, they resurfaced, making it hard to concentrate.

When I finally returned home, the apartment was quiet. Kaveh's workspace was still cluttered with his projects, but he wasn't there. I found him in the living room, staring out the window with a distant look in his eyes. He didn't seem to notice me at first, lost in his thoughts.

"Kaveh," I said gently, stepping closer.

He turned to face me, a weary smile tugging at his lips. "Hey," he replied softly.

We stood there for a moment, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words. Finally, I took a deep breath and closed the distance between us. "We need to talk," I said, my voice firm but gentle.
He nodded, gesturing me to sit with him on the couch. As we settled in, I reached out to take his hand, squeezing it lightly. "I'm sorry for how I acted last night," I began. "I shouldn't have let my frustration get the best of me."

Kaveh looked down at our joined hands, his expression pained. "I'm sorry too. I know I can be really difficult when I'm stressed, and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"We both have our struggles," I said softly. "But we need to find a way to support each other, even when things get tough."

He nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. "I know. I just... sometimes I feel so overwhelmed, and I don't know how to handle it."

I reached up to wipe the tear away, my thump brushing gently against his skin. "We're in this together, Kaveh. We need to communicate better and be more patient with each other."

He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're right," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to fight with you, Alhaitham. I love you too much for that."

"I love you too," I replied, my heart aching with the sincerity of my words. "We'll figure this out. One step at a time."

We spent the rest of the evening talking, sharing our fears and frustrations. It was a very difficult conversation, but it was necessary. Slowly, we began to rebuild the trust that had been shaken over our argument.

In the days that followed, we made a conscious effort to be more mindful of each other's needs. Kaveh took short breaks from his work to avoid burnout, and I found a way to manage my overstimulation, seeking quiet moments when I needed them. We communicated more openly, checking in with each other and offering support.

One evening, about a week after our argument, we found ourselves back at the cat cafe. The familiar setting brought us a sense of calm and we both relaxed as we sipped our drinks and watched the cats play.

"Do you remember our last visit here?" Kaveh asked, a soft smile on his lips.

I nodded, a fondness in my heard. "I do. It was a good day."

He reached across the table to take my hand, eyes full of love and determination. "Let's make more good days, Alhaitham. Together."

I squeezed his hand, feeling a renewed sense of hope. "Together," I agreed.

And as we sat there, surrounded by the gentle purring of cats and the warmth of the cafe, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would challenge them together, as corny as that sounds.