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When Kaveh was a kid, before his father died and his mother left for Fontaine, he used to dream of having his own soulmate. He wondered what mark would appear on his wrist, and what his partner would be like. His parents always seemed so happy together, and he knew that that’s what he wanted for himself.
But then when the desert stole his father and his mother’s husband, he wasn’t as sure. It crushed his mother more than he thought possible, leaving her lonely and unable to care for herself or her son. So, instead, Kaveh took care of her. He made her food when she couldn’t eat, washed her hair when it got dirty, and begged her to get out of bed when she seemed glued to the sheets.
Then, when he was old enough to enter the Akademyia, she left Sumeru for brighter things, away from bad memories and old wounds. And when Kaveh got a letter in his mail, he was stunned to hear that she was getting remarried. She talked about how happy she was, even without her soulmate. She sang praises about this stranger he was supposed to know, and asked him to come to the wedding, but Kaveh didn’t have the heart to. He couldn’t see her with another man, even though he was overjoyed to think she could be happy again.
It broke his heart when he sent a letter back to say he couldn’t make it, that he was happy but unable to, when in reality it was that he didn’t want to.
And later when a shooting pain went through his body, he didn’t know what to think of the shiny tattoo on the underside of his wrist. It was a simple book and quill, the feather not unlike the one is his hair, but it seemed much more dramatic than it was. Maybe that was just the emotions, but he couldn’t tell. He wanted to believe that whoever his soulmate was would be good for him, but it was difficult to think about anything other than what was left of his mother when hers died. He didn’t want that to happen to him too, so he avoided the topic altogether. He kept his sleeves long and shied away from nosy classmates, giving them the same generic spiel that he gave everyone—that he was excited, but a little apprehensive.
But, as most things in Kaveh’s life did, that plan blew up in his face when he came upon one of his juniors reading alone in the House of Daena. He felt a little bad for him, being alone and ignored by his peers, who stood in a clustered group not far from him, so Kaveh decided to sit with him. The first thing Kaveh noticed about him were the headphones on his head, so he almost thought to move away, unsure if he read the situation wrong and he was alone on purpose. That was until the boy noticed his presence and looked up from his book. The moment Kaveh made eye contact with him, a familiar spark shot through him. The turquoise eyes staring at him widened at the same time, and Kaveh wanted nothing more than to run away and hide.
But he was stuck in place, almost by some external force even though that couldn’t possibly be true. And when the boy asked, “What’s your name?” he was already in too deep.
Alhaitham wasn’t like the majority of the Akademiya’s students, but that wasn’t a bad thing. He was quiet and stubborn, but not as cocky as some of the others. He did have a horribly sharp tongue that was aimed almost entirely at Kaveh, but he supposed he could let that slide.
It seemed perfect to Kaveh. So perfect, in fact, that he practically forgot about his fears regarding soulmates. But because even good things must come to an end, their argument reminded him why he was so hesitant in the first place.
Following a ruined project and paper ripped to shreds, Kaveh wasn’t surprised when Alhaitham wasn’t present at his graduation. But it did hurt. The mark on his wrist burned like it was on fire and he was without water. This, he thought, was why he didn’t want a soulmate, until he realized how good it felt to have one.
After graduation he thought he could put it all behind him and focus on his work. If he could become a renowned architect, it wouldn’t matter if he had a soulmate or not. He could have pride in his abilities rather than whatever love he found. And that’s exactly what he did, right up until his magnum opus was built, leaving him with debt and nowhere to live. The Palace of Alcazarzary was his greatest work, and yet creating it was one of the worst things to happen to him. He found comfort at Lambad’s Tavern, drinking his sorrows away and leaning on Tighnari, who was his closest friend, when he had no one else.
When Alhaitham found him again, curled around a glass of red wine, Kaveh cried openly. People always told him he was too emotional, and he knew they were right, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. He ignored the pangs of longing in his heart and the burning in his skin, even when Alhaitham dragged him into his home, depositing him in a dusty guest room that Kaveh could tell was hardly ever used. He supposed it could’ve been his own room, once upon a time. But that time was long gone, and now he was drunkenly crying on a mattress more comfortable than he deserved, and wrapped in a thin blanket that belonged to the man he loved but couldn’t have.
There was no way that Alhaitham would still want to be his soulmate, not after years of no contact and tension. He couldn’t help but wish, though, that they could become close again. He wanted to curl up at Alhaitham’s side like he used to, or hold his hand through the busy markets. He wanted to be trusted with his headphones again, to be allowed to see him be vulnerable, to feel comfortable being vulnerable himself.
But his own mistakes meant he couldn’t have that, and he was already lucky to be given such kindness. It was a miracle that Alhaitham even offered to let Kaveh live in his house at all, let alone being able to stay rent free. If he had to pine for things out of reach in exchange, then so be it.
He lived with that mindset for almost a year until Alhaitham brought it up himself. It surprised Kaveh a little, that his awkward junior had grown so self-aware. He used to be so emotionally stunted that Kaveh doubted he knew anything but logic, but it had been years since their Akademiya days, so he supposed it wasn’t too surprising. However, Kaveh couldn’t help but be reminded of those days when he saw Alhaitham awkwardly standing by his door, looking for words that wouldn’t form.
It took Kaveh looking up from his blueprints and a questioning glance for Alhaitham to speak properly. “Kaveh,” he said. He didn’t say anything after that, opting to instead rock lightly on his feet.
“What is it?” Kaveh replied.
Alhaitham opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head with a sigh. “May I come in?” Kaveh waved his hand toward his bed, prompting Alhaitham to sit down at the edge. Once he did, he continued. “I’ve been…having thoughts about…” He looked suddenly uncomfortable, so Kaveh decided to take pity on him. It seemed he wasn’t too emotionally competent, then.
“About what?” He asked. Kaveh’s face morphed into something more patient, and he was beginning to get a little concerned. It wasn’t often that Alhaitham was entirely speechless, after all.
“I miss you,” he finally said, picking at the blanket (which was noticeably softer now) as he did so.
His words made Kaveh pause. How could Alhaitham miss him when he was right in front of him? If he looked any deeper into the meaning, he might find something he’ll regret, and he can’t afford to get his hopes up, lest he fuck up their relationship more than he already had. “What do you mean, you miss me?”
“I miss what we had,” he said. “I miss…being with you, and…” Alhaitham’s speech was stiff, which was so unlike him that Kaveh briefly wondered if he was sick. “I need to know if you miss me too, or if I’m making a fool of myself.”
Kaveh’s eyes widened as they processed Alhaitham’s words, and his lips parted to take in air. He let out a stilted cough that quickly evolved into watery eyes as he said, “Of course I miss you, idiot. I just didn’t think you still wanted me after…”
Alhaitham’s body jerked as if breaking from a trance, and his hand shot forward towards Kaveh, so he met it with his own, pulling himself to him. “I never stopped,” he whispered. “I never stopped wanting you.”
Kaveh stumbled into Alhaitham’s embrace, clutching onto his shoulders with an almost desperate grip. And he supposed he was a little desperate for this, to finally be allowed to love Alhaitham again, even though he had never really stopped. No words were spoken as they pulled away from each other so that only an inch was between their faces, the only sounds being their breath and the shuffling of fabric. Alhaitham made a soft, barely there cry, before leaning forward to press his lips against Kaveh’s, which Kaveh readily reciprocated.
It felt dreamlike, to have this again. To feel his wrist burn with a warmth that felt like love instead of hate, to have what Kaveh thought were ridiculous wishes come true.
They pulled away again, and Kaveh cupped Alhaitham’s face with his palm, brushing his thumb across his cheek. “Me neither,” he said, smiling through the tears that couldn’t seem to stop cascading down his face. “I love you, Alhaitham. I really do.”
“I really love you too,” Alhaitham answered, and finally the beating of Kaveh’s heart wasn’t from longing, but happiness, and the book and quill on his wrist beamed alongside it.