Work Text:
While you were sleeping I planted a tree.
- Katya Muromtseva
Alhaitham, after he tells Kaveh in passing to sleep on the sofa, doesn’t reflect much on this decision. It is a matter of course. There is only one bedroom in the house, only one bed (funny, considering how this place was supposed to be split between the two of them). Truth be told, Alhaitham doesn’t even care where Kaveh is going to spend the nights – on the sofa, on the floor, on the street; but it was his mistake to allow Kaveh to stay, so it should be his burden to set some… boundaries? Rules? Nevertheless, Kaveh replies with another easy to forget bilious remark – that’s how you treat the guest, such a great host – and Alhaitham doesn’t reflect much on his ungratefulness either.
A single night forces Alhaitham to reconsider his dismissiveness. He is lying in the bed, but sleep just doesn’t arrive. Those past months have been… difficult, to say the least, with that work he was practically forced to shoulder. The question was - when it would start influencing his life, that part of it that Alhaitham has been carefully separating from his job, when it will follow him home. So this is finally it; he tosses and turns for what seem like hours, but his mind, oxymoronly blank and full at the same time, just won’t let Alhaitham rest.
Alhaitham, through the rustling of the sheets, hears the sound of the footsteps in the hall. Even if he didn’t know for a fact that the gait couldn’t belong to anyone but Kaveh, he would regretfully recognize it. He can also claim that Kaveh is trying to be quiet – which he never does, hence his rather poor attempt is especially noticeable.
Just like there is only one bedroom in the house, there is unfortunately only one bathroom, the way to which leads through Alhaitham’s room. He assumes Kaveh needs to use it – and tenses up, forcing himself to freeze. Kaveh absolutely can’t see him awake; Alhaitham is too tired for another pointless conversation Kaveh would undoubtedly drag him into.
As the hinges quietly creak, Alhaitham stops breathing; this is – a reaction born in childhood, when he pretended he was asleep so his grandmother wouldn’t find out that Alhaitham was reading under the blanket. It didn’t work on her.
Alhaitham starts breathing again.
“Alhaitham?” Kaveh asks – surprisingly softly. If Alhaitham was dreaming, the sound of Kaveh’s voice wouldn’t disturb him.
He is not dreaming – but it doesn’t mean Alhaitham is going to reply.
Kaveh closes the door. Alhaitham expects that he will walk into the bathroom, finish his business quickly and leave; instead, the mattress sinks deeper under the weight of another body.
Alhaitham slightly opens his eyes; he can barely discern a thing – it is only clear that Kaveh is lying next to him.
He likes to think that he is prepared to deal with whatever life throws at him. Alhaitham doesn’t want that, but no one asks him, so the best he can do is to dodge as efficiently as possible. But nothing could ever prepare Alhaitham to deal with… that. He isn’t even sure what to call it, how to categorize Kaveh’s behavior. This is something from childhood as well; uninvitingly climbing onto someone’s bed.
Alhaitham’s grandmother didn’t send him away, but he was a child. And Kaveh isn’t – so, logically, this is exactly what Alhaitham should do, but…
He clenches his jaw, not fully comprehending why he isn’t doing exactly that. Perhaps, it’s exhaustion winning; Kaveh, called out, would start looking for excuses. He would probably be both mortified and enraged, and the last thing Alhaitham wants is to witness him in this state when he is already tired.
Regardless, it must be a one-time thing. Easy to ignore. Tomorrow, Alhaitham will pretend as if this night hasn’t happened – and he is positive that Kaveh will pretend too.
***
It isn’t a one-time thing.
Alhaitham has lost count how many times Kaveh has slipped into his bed. It always proceeds in the same way. Kaveh invites himself in, calls Alhaitham by the name – and lowers himself next to Alhaitham. Alhaitham stays awake until the sky starts brightening, but the slumber takes him before Kaveh leaves.
It isn’t a one-time thing – but Alhaitham wasn’t completely wrong, either.
They both deliberately and stubbornly pretend as if those nights don’t happen. At least, Alhaitham does. He has no idea what’s going on inside Kaveh’s head.
He gains an opportunity to find out. He doesn’t ask for it, but to demonstrate his protest, Alhaitham would actually have to speak up.
And he isn’t going to do that.
But Kaveh does. One night, he simply starts talking. Starts whispering; logically, Alhaitham has known that Kaveh could murmur a sentence and not to yell it out, but hearing him doing that surprises him nonetheless.
“I got a new project,” Kaveh says. “I didn’t tell you because you wouldn’t care. But I really wanted to share it with you.”
That’s not… untrue, Alhaitham has to admit. If Kaveh told him under different circumstances, Alhaitham would probably express hope that the rent was going to be paid this month. But he can’t reply; out of – Alhaitham is still not sure what. Exposing Kaveh would definitely bring him some sort of sadistic joy - but.
Alhaitham doesn’t have to come up with a retort, but he has a chance to muse over Kaveh’s words; a chance that rarely is there when they… barely converse, mostly argue. A chance typically missed in the heat of the quarrel exactly because Alhaitham has to find a quip.
Is that how Kaveh sees him? Again, it is a quite flawless judgment of his personality. Alhaitham doesn’t care about Kaveh getting or not getting a job; there is nothing in him beyond an average landlord’s concern. Alhaitham also doesn’t care about other people’s opinion, Kaveh’s opinion included, but his not accusing, not aggressive, yet somehow petty and vulnerable, and so unlike Kaveh muttering stirs something unpleasant in Alhaitham.
He disregards this thought. Whatever it is, Alhaitham doesn’t want to deal with it right now. Or ever.
***
Or ever ends rather quickly.
Kaveh joins him at the table, lulling the cup of steaming coffee in his hands; he – shockingly – doesn’t say anything, yet Alhaitham finds himself very much distracted from the book he is reading. And probably because he doesn’t say anything – and Kaveh always has something to say; Alhaitham even knows what he has to say now – Alhaitham feels…
Uncomfortable.
Why Kaveh can’t simply say his line, and Alhaitham would say his, they would bicker for a while and Alhaitham would go about his day without concerning himself with what Kaveh does, thinks, wants or worries about. Without that – Alhaitham can pretend he doesn’t know what it is, can pretend it isn’t there, but it won’t magically disappear - born out of absolute nonsense guilt.
Alhaitham wishes he could tell Kaveh to leave, but there is no guarantee that it wouldn’t intensify guilt. Alhaitham assumes it will lessen on its own, though, when he is not around Kaveh; but it is too early to depart and Alhaitham didn’t sign up to come to work before his shift starts.
So, he is around Kaveh now, and neither of them is going to depart in the near future, and the guilt is scratching the door of Alhaitham’s consciousness like an annoying cat. This might be not the best way to chase it away so he could enter the state where he thinks about other things again, but Alhaitham, placing his hand on the table and lightly tapping the surface with his finger, tries, “You look different today. Has something happened?”
Kaveh, not breaking away from blowing on the cup, raises his brows.
“What do you mean, different?”
This is a blatant lie, of course. Kaveh looks like Kaveh always does. He is also not answering the question; another flaw of his character – he probably registers the inquiry, but ignores it entirely.
Alhaitham clenches his jaw. Now he has to come up with the reason why he claimed that. If he had to evaluate his own work here, Alhaitham would declare that he is managing just splendidly.
“I don’t know. Just different.”
Kaveh hums, shrugging. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”
Fine. Whatever. If Kaveh doesn’t want to say it, Alhaitham isn’t going to force the words out of him.
Alhaitham lowers his gaze on the book.
I didn’t tell you because you wouldn’t care. But I really wanted to share it with you. Alhaitham is pretty sure that isn’t what’s written there. Five minutes ago, it was an essay on ancient runes – but this is what his brain translates the text into now.
Alhaitham shuts the book and throws it on the table.
“Why so aggressive? Didn’t sleep well?”
“Did you?”
“In fact, yes.” Kaveh squints. “You know, the sofa is really cozy. All three of them. My favorite one is…”
Kaveh continues talking, but Alhaitham stops listening. How many nights Kaveh has even spent in Alhaitham’s bed without Alhaitham noticing? Is that a recent development - or has Kaveh been doing that from the very beginning?
This is inappropriate behavior through and through. The number of nights wouldn’t change that. It is a fact, although Alhaitham isn’t sure who exactly established it as a fact. But is Alhaitham himself any better, though? A fitting response would be driving Kaveh away, Alhaitham imagines, that’s what other people would do…
But he is not like other people. And other people’s solutions have rarely suited him. There might be nothing wrong with allowing Kaveh to stay.
If he doesn’t talk, that is. Which Alhaitham has no way of preventing. Or, rather - there is a way of preventing it, but that will lead to another fight.
Or worse.
Alhaitham wrinkles his nose. Or worse. It is an interesting thought he also ignores. Enough introspections for today. He still hasn’t decided what to do with that first one.
“I’m off to work.”
***
“I’m almost out of ink.”
Alhaitham suppresses a growl. Several nights have been quiet. Uneventful. Alhaitham assumed Kaveh is too tired to talk; even envied him, for Alhaitham’s own sleep was hard to achieve and short-lived.
Of course, the first thing Kaveh says in a while is a complaint.
“My client refused to pay me in advance.” Kaveh sighs. “But how am I even supposed to earn the payment if I have nothing to earn it with?”
It’s your fault, Alhaitham would automatically say during the day in reply to Kaveh’s whine. But Kaveh is not whining now. He utters quietly and wearily, and Alhaitham feels a heavy grip of guilt around his throat. For as little as a thought about what he would answer with. Unbelievable.
“Yes, I know. You probably think I should manage my finances better. Or you would think, I don’t know… I’m still trying to comprehend this whole dreaming thing; I hope this talk about my shitty reality doesn’t influence you there.”
If only Kaveh knew.
“You would be right, though. I live beyond my means.” This is new. It’s usually the annoyed I do what I want with my money, and not a soft confession. “But I’m not a gambler. I’m not an alcoholic. I don’t even spend much on necessities. It’s unfair that it is so expensive to work in the creative field. They don’t ask you to buy your own pens, do they?”
Somehow, Alhaitham has never considered that Kaveh should buy his own tools. They just… appeared. And Alhaitham has never cared where did those countless pesky pens, pencils, rulers and papers Alhaitham finds in absolutely random places come from.
“But that’s fine.” Kaveh yawns. “I’ll just ask around in my Darshan. They let me use their stuff sometimes.”
That’s good. Kaveh’s situation is not completely dire, then.
Why does it bring Alhaitham such relief?
“You’d probably want to see their faces when I show up. Poor Kaveh, panhandling again. I think you and them would find something in common.”
Alhaitham would never say that, would he?
He probably would. And relief, just like that, is gone. He wishes not to be compared with those people, because…
Because he might not be exactly like they are, but they would truly find something in common.
“It doesn’t matter. What wouldn’t you do for a dream, am I right?”
How would Alhaitham know? All Alhaitham has ever dreamt of was him being left alone to ponder in peace. But there is a limit to the length he is prepared to go at to achieve it. Kaveh’s difficulties don’t seem insurmountable, he isn’t… sacrificing anything by asking his peers for help. Besides, Kaveh is clearly used to humiliation of this sort.
Alhaitham rolls on the other side, facing away from Kaveh.
“Alhaitham?”
He shouldn’t sound so panicked. People move when they are asleep. It’s normal.
Although Alhaitham rarely does when Kaveh is here.
***
What Alhaitham is doing is completely irrational and outright foolish.
Alhaitham doesn’t like acting irrationally and foolishly.
He has to admit he has been for quite a while.
But this, right now, is a pinnacle of that irrationality and foolishness.
Alhaitham twists the wooden box in his hands; weighs it, bobbing his arm. Kaveh didn’t lie; Alhaitham has no idea how much other things in that store cost, but the content of this light and nondescript small package is definitely overpriced.
What is he even doing?
Alhaitham’s reflection in the mirror doesn’t understand it either. It looks at him judgmentally, unkindly, gaze sharp; tight lips slightly turned downward, the knuckles whitening. Alhaitham there is what the real Alhaitham is supposed to be. What he used to think he wanted to be.
“Kaveh?” Alhaitham calls before he changes his mind. It is a trick of his undoubtedly feverish, exhausted by insomnia consciousness, but, for a moment, it seems like the reflection doesn’t repeat Alhaitham’s movements after him, but freezes in this damnatory state.
“What?”
“I am in the bathroom. Come here.”
Kaveh grunts.
As he approaches, he isn’t trying to muffle his footsteps.
“For the love of Seven, Alhaitham, if you are going to scold me for using your toilet paper again…” Kaveh sharply opens the door, but doesn’t come in, grasping the doorframe and leaning into the room instead. “What do you want?”
Alhaitham gives the last glance to the still disapproving of him reflection and turns to Kaveh.
“Is that yours?”
Kaveh, frowning, lowers his eyes on the box. “Let me see.”
Alhaitham hands over the box to him. Kaveh brings it closer to his face, opens it, inspects its content intently. The crease between his brows only deepens.
“Where did you get it?”
Alhaitham should have probably thought this through before he acted. Alhaitham should have probably sent Kaveh out on the first night. Alhaitham should have probably never offered Kaveh to live with him in the first place. Alhaitham should have done so many things – yet he ended up doing neither of them.
“I found it in the bathroom.”
Kaveh’s teeth graze over his lower lip.
“It looks like something that could belong to me, but I don’t remember ever buying it. Or leaving it in here, of all places.”
Absolutely nothing stops Alhaitham from saying, you should watch your belongings better. Absolutely nothing stops Alhaitham from saying, are you suffering from a memory loss? He bites on the inside of his cheek instead.
“Well, that’s where I found it. Do you need it?”
“I do.” Kaveh closes the lid, raising his eyes on Alhaitham. “Thank you. For finding it.”
Kaveh beams. His smile looks so sincere. The last time Kaveh smiled at him like that was in Akademiya, before they…
Alhaitham shakes his head. “I was about to take a bath. I would appreciate some privacy.”
***
“I don’t really like working on this project. I saw potential in it before I started. I just didn’t think the client would be so…”
Contemptible. Alhaitham has been hearing about him for half an hour. He is more than well aware.
“But even I can’t afford building what I really want to build all the time. I like pretending that I can, like that people see me that way, but.”
That, Kaveh does. Likes pretending. That makes two of them, it seems.
“Do you know what I would really like to build?”
Alhaitham’s experience tells him that he is going to find out soon.
“A flower shop. All the buildings should be in the same style, Sumeru classicism, but I would add a personal touch. Like stems, wrapping around the window frames, with flowers always blooming in each corner. I could pass by every day and tend to them so they never wither. And…”
Kaveh doesn’t stop talking.
Alhaitham stops listening only when Kaveh’s soft voice lulls him to sleep.
***
Over the next several nights, Alhaitham learns that Kaveh wants to build a lot of things.
Although a lot is a gross underestimation.
If Akademiya wasn’t restraining him, he would probably destroy the entire Sumeru and set it up from scratch.
Museums and galleries, like ones he saw during the field trip to Fontaine. Kaveh doesn’t know what for, because there are too few artists and sculptures in Sumeru, but he hopes that would change if people actually had a place where they could be seen. Hospitals in which patients could rest in their own rooms, away from the prying eyes of a passer-by. Kaveh thinks that a little privacy might be helpful for faster recovery. A stage, but bigger and surrounded not by walls, but a beautiful scenery of Sumeru, so the invited from afar troupes and bands could perform on it, attracting a bigger audience, even a foreign one, perhaps. And a hotel, somewhere next to it. They don’t understand how profitable tourism is, Kaveh whispers.
And many other things the absence or the current existence of which Alhaitham simply accepts as a norm, but Kaveh doesn’t.
But Akademiya is restraining him, so all his fantasies are exactly that. Just mere fantasies.
For the best or for the worst, however, is debatable.
But there is one thing Alhaitham is sure of.
He has forgotten that falling asleep could be this easy.
***
Alhaitham wonders if Kaveh comes today.
They had an argument. About something stupid for it is always something stupid with Kaveh. Alhaitham didn’t pay attention to how it started, how it proceeded. He almost never does; they quarrel so frequently that dodging Kaveh’s attacks is mostly a mindless thing. Alhaitham only remembers that Kaveh looked lost at first, then shocked; his face paled – and reddened, as the fight continued. In the end, Kaveh ran out of the house, slamming the door after him with such vigor that the stone walls shuddered. Alhaitham didn’t follow after him because why would he?
And why, although there is no obvious answer to this question, does he feel like he should have gone after Kaveh anyway?
Alhaitham isn’t troubled by the argument; it is – familiar. Habitual. The situation at work has also evened out. And yet, he finds himself unable to fall asleep once again. It hasn’t been the case for weeks; he dozed off, listening to Kaveh’s soft murmur about fountains, pergolas, villas. It had nothing to do with Kaveh, Alhaitham decided. Only with Alaitham himself not being bothered anymore with what was happening in his life.
Seems like Alhaitham was mistaken.
Alhaitham rolls on his back and raises his eyes to the ceiling. He has spent a few hours trying to chase the dream. His grandmother used to tell him that counting sumpter beasts helps, but even when Alhaitham was young, he thought that idea seemed foolish. Counting imaginary animals…
Besides, he is not a child anymore.
Alhaitham sighs deeply. That’s foolish, but he has to work tomorrow. Or today?
One sumpter beast.
Alhaitham isn’t going to do that. Even in his mind, it sounds ridiculous.
Alhaitham growls, turning on his belly, burying his face into the pillow.
And tries again.
Two sumpter beasts.
No, that’s – if anything, sumpter beasts only make Alhaitham more awake. Or rather – thinking about them and acknowledging how ludicrous thinking about them is.
Three…
The door quietly opens.
Alhaitham holds back a relieved exhale. No more sumpter beasts.
Springs in the mattress softly whimper as Kaveh lies next to him.
Kaveh doesn’t start talking right away. Alhaitham wishes he could rush him with a phrase Kaveh would definitely consider rude.
And when Kaveh does start, it’s not a description of another building he wants to create but, “I am pissed at you.”
And Alhaitham instantly knows this is going to be a long suffocating night.
“I am pissed at you. Constantly. When you shit on me, but you probably don’t even aim to. You just don’t choose your words. When you compliment me and you aim to shit on me. You choose your words too carefully, then.”
All true, no point in denying that. If Alhaitham wasn’t asleep, he would ask, well? What do you want from me? Do you expect me to change? But he is asleep and he has no idea that Kaveh feels all that, and Kaveh has no idea that Alhaitham can hear him, so he is just yelling - whispering - pointlessly into the darkness and he doesn’t, in fact, expect anything.
Just like he didn’t expect before. His lack of expectations didn’t help Alhaitham at all.
“And I talk to you anyway although I know what you are going to say. Sometimes, I intentionally provoke you. When I moved in, you barely spoke to me. You barely noticed me. And I would be fine with it if I didn’t have to see you every day. But being around made me realize how much I missed our discussions from that time when you still treated me with at least a fraction of respect. And then I figured that I can either squeeze harshness out of you or settle for dismissiveness. And I can’t stand dismissiveness from you.”
Kaveh sniffs. His voice stays unwavering, as much as the whisper can stay unwavering. He isn’t crying, is he? Alhaitham doesn’t know what to do with tears in a normal situation, what would he be supposed to do if Kaveh was crying now?
“Do you know why?”
Alhaitham has a theory, based on the glances Kaveh used to steal at him when he thought Alhaitham wasn’t looking. Based on the frequent patting on his shoulder when Kaveh barely touched anyone else. Based on Kaveh sleeping with him every night (what Alhaitham took for convenience – there could be a different reason). Alhaitham doesn’t want this theory proven; he thought it passed, because most of those things belong to the past. But Kaveh doesn’t ask him – even if he did, Alhaitham wouldn’t be able to protest, for he is sleeping - so Alhaitham is going to be enlightened anyway.
He flexes his hand, hoping that the movement and the sound would prevent Kaveh from continuing.
Kaveh ignores the rustling, “I am so unfortunately besotted with you that I disgust myself. Stupid, right? I bet you would say it is. After what we both did to each other. It was also stupid, you know. But you start noticing it only when you spend time away from the Akademiya. In the real world. You just learn that there are more important things than the truth. Your principles will never leave you; but people might because of them. Is it worth it - to be right, but alone?”
Alhaitham has never thought that the day when Kaveh confesses to him would come, hence, he has never planned what to do if it comes. He is not unfortunately besotted in return and it should be easy to brush Kaveh’s secret affection off just like he would brush anyone else’s affection off, but it isn’t.
He had to be an idiot not to admit he has learnt to care about Kaveh again during those past months – but there is nothing more than that. Just a concern for someone who used to be his friend.
Alhaitham has never thought that the day when Kaveh confesses to him would come. And it didn’t. Because Alhaitham has the privilege to pretend it didn’t happen.
Kaveh has it, too.
Warmth envelopes Alhaitham’s palm for a brief moment.
“I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore.”
For the first time, Kaveh leaves when Alhaitham is still awake.
***
Alhaitham is pouring coffee into the cup. Counterproductive, all things considered, but he needs to find energy somewhere.
Eternity passes. Alhaitham is still pouring coffee into the cup, although it is already full to the brim. He knows he has to put the cezve on the table and wipe the liquid that ran over, but his hand doesn’t listen to his mind.
What an interesting turn of events.
If Alhaitham closed his burning, aching eyes, he would feel the edge of every popped vein, although he realizes that it is very much impossible. Besides, there is no point in closing them anyway.
He managed to sleep for three hours two days ago. Alhaitham considers it a success. But last night… Last night, his flock consisted of one thousand four hundred forty sumpter beasts. Then, it was time to go to work and they all scattered. Tonight, Alhaitham will gather them - or at least some of them - again.
He went to see a doctor after a week wasted like that. The tea that the doctor prescribed helped. Until Alhaitham started catching himself falling asleep everywhere. Lowering the dose just resulted… well, in this.
“What are you doing?” Kaveh, next to him, asks. Alhaitham didn’t hear him approaching.
Alhaitham sighs laboriously.
“Coffee.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Alhaitham thought his grip on the handle was tight – yet Kaveh takes the cezve from his hand so effortlessly. “What’s going on?”
Alhaitham glances up. Kaveh looks like Alhaitham feels. Kaveh even looks like Alhaitham looks. Perhaps Kaveh feels like Alhaitham feels. Or worse.
What wouldn’t Alhaitham give just for a second of sleep.
Kaveh kept his promise. He hasn’t bothered Alhaitham anymore. His promise, it seems, reflected on the both of them.
Alhaitham barely sleeps. Kaveh sleeps too much. He is on the sofa when Alhaitham leaves in the morning, he is still there when Alhaitham comes home in the evening. Once, Alhaitham returned earlier and found Kaveh curled up under the thin blanket in the afternoon.
But no matter how much Kaveh sleeps, it’s not enough to erase dark circles under his eyes that appeared the next day he stopped coming. He also became… forgetful, although he never has been, before, even though Alhaitham wanted to accuse him of not watching his belongings. He left a pencil on the coffee table the other day and, ten minutes later, rummaged through the whole house in order to find it.
Alhaitham was in the living room. He didn’t even notice that pencil.
“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”
“Right.” Kaveh sets the cezve on the table. “So, what’s going on?”
“You asked the same question a moment ago.”
Kaveh blinks rapidly. “Did you answer?”
Seven, they both are so utterly miserable.
“Kaveh?”
Kaveh hums; his gaze is blank – he looks at Alhaitham, but not really.
Alhaitham doesn’t want to say it, but this might be the only way out for them, as ridiculous and going against common sense as it sounds.
“My bed is big enough for two.”
“Thank you for informing me.”
Alhaitham takes a deep breath; his lungs are too small to contain all the oxygen.
“I think you should sleep there. With me.”
“There is something wrong with your head, then.”
There is. But Alhaitham would rather focus – as much as he can – on making it right. “Come sleep with me tonight.”
Kaveh frowns; not angrily – just confusedly. “Why would I do that?”
“Why did you?”
The words come out so easily; as if they are in the middle of their habitual tug of war. Alhaitham realizes he said that not from hearing the sound of his own voice, but, for the most part, from how Kaveh’s face changes. He, too, starts to be aware of what is happening around him; squeezes his lips, gives Alhaitham a strange look – Alhaitham, tired out by the sleepless nights, doesn’t have a chance to interpret it before Kaveh, as if suddenly gaining a second breath, storms out of the room.
Alhaitham doesn’t follow him.
***
“Alhaitham?”
If there was a sound opposite to the irritating ringing of the alarm clock, it would be this.
Alhaitham, tugging the blanket closer to his chin, doesn’t reply.
He is used to the darkness enough to trace as Kaveh’s silhouette moves from the door to the bed. As Kaveh sits, slouchingly, on the very edge.
“How did you find out?” Kaveh whispers. “Did I wake you up when I was leaving?”
Kaveh asks – but he probably doesn’t want to know the answer. Understandable. This is the kind of truth Alhaitham himself would be happy to live without.
“We will never talk about this, will we?”
Alhaitham swallows. They won’t.
“Alright, I get it.” Kaveh lies down. “Goodnight, then.”
He waits for Kaveh to start talking – but nothing, except for their quiet breathing, disturbs the quietness. And this is not what Alhaitham called Kaveh here for. Funny – it was Kaveh who leeched off him in the beginning. Now they are just leeching off each other.
“Kaveh?” Alhaitham rasps.
“Shh… I’m sleeping.”
“Kaveh…”
“What do you want?”
“Tell me about the flower shop.”
Sleep comes easily tonight.