Hikari

3: The Distance Between Us

The rain continued to fall outside, the steady rhythm calming Al Haitham's racing thoughts. He stood and walked to the window, watching as the raindrops streaked down the glass, blurring the world outside.

He wondered where Kaveh was now. He hadn't seen him in weeks, not since their last brief interaction at the Akademiya. They had exchanged pleasantries, but it had been awkward and strained. Kaveh had smiled, but it hadn't reached his eyes. And Al Haitham had said nothing, as always.

He had wanted to reach out, to say something—anything—to bridge the gap between them. But the words had stuck in his throat, and by the time he had worked up the courage to speak, Kaveh was already walking away.

Al Haitham had watched him go, feeling the familiar ache in his chest that always accompanied Kaveh's absence. It was ridiculous, really. He had never been one to depend on others, never been one to let his emotions control him. But with Kaveh, it was different.

Kaveh was different.

Al Haitham had never been able to figure him out, never been able to predict what he would do or say. He was a force of nature, unpredictable and untamable, and it had drawn Al Haitham to him in a way he couldn't explain.

But it had also been the thing that had pushed them apart.

Kaveh had wanted more from him, more than Al Haitham had known how to give. He had wanted affection, emotion, vulnerability—all things that Al Haitham had never been comfortable with. And in the end, it had been too much.

But now, standing here alone, watching the rain fall, Al Haitham wondered if maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he had let his fear of vulnerability keep him from something that could have been good.

Something that could have been great.