Chapter Text
At long last, Kaveh was convinced that karmic retribution had finally arrived.
It was a simple cough from Alhaitham, but a cough nonetheless.
Alhaitham wasn’t exactly the perfect picture of health he envisioned himself to be.
Kaveh was aware of that much from witnessing it first-hand. As his roommate, he had long grown tired of constantly chiding the grown man about his room that needed cleaning, the shelves that needed dusting, the books that still had to be sorted in their shared living spaces, his lack of exercise and his excessive sleeping routine. On occasion, he’d take matters into his own hands and make a headstart on such menial tasks.
This was surely the world’s form of paying its dues towards Kaveh, who had always laboured around the house while Alhaitham had barely lifted a single finger. He turned his exasperated gaze to the man, who sat idly and wordlessly on the couch, being the same as ever.
“Go back to your room if you’re just going to cough and sneeze everywhere,” Kaveh said flatly as he continued to dust at the bookshelf. “You’re putting my hard work to waste.”
“That’s not an uncommon occurrence with how many designs you scrap each day,” Alhaitham mused as he flipped to the next page of his book, not sparing the other man a glance.
Kaveh’s grip on the duster tightened as he scowled. “That’s self-inflicted because those designs wouldn’t have passed the initial client review anyway.”
“You’re—”
A cough, then another. It seemed to only add to Kaveh’s frustration as he set aside the duster and shot a glare at Alhaitham.
“Whatever you’re coming down with better not be infectious,” Kaveh grimaced as he made his way back to his room. “I’d hate to catch it from you. I have work to do and it doesn’t include cleaning the house of an ungrateful man.”
Alhaitham stole a glance at Kaveh’s retreating figure, then returned to the book before him. His eyes flickered from left to right as he read the passages of text, or at least attempted to as he continued to read the same string of words over and over, failing to move onto the next sentence as his concentration failed him.
His throat was tight and his voice felt a little hoarse, but he had successfully gone under Kaveh’s radar. He stole a glance at the closed door, then made his way to the bathroom. Here, Kaveh was sure to be out of earshot. Only then did he finally manage to clear his throat, not of phlegm but blood. He rinsed his mouth, the clear water returning to the sink as a pale scarlet, with wilted petals mingling within. It took considerable effort for him to not launch into a coughing fit,, but it was well-worth it.
While their relationship contained much reluctance and enmity, Alhaitham and Kaveh had a firm grasp on the other’s personality. Without fail, Kaveh would begin his incessant torrent of questions on when Alhaitham began to feel unwell.
Everyone had their shortcomings, but Kaveh was needlessly kind and to a fault. It was precisely the reason why he was easily deceived by scams disguised as charitable ploys. Even if Alhaitham were to feel unwell, he wouldn’t rejoice over the halt on his requests for the overdue rent. Instead, he’d lament on the fact that perhaps if he’d paid them on time, Alhaitham’s condition wouldn’t be declining, even if he wasn’t aware of the ailment he’d been suffering from.
Tighnari had already diagnosed him long ago and he’d accepted his fate since. Life was an equation and the natural outcome was death. Idle things, such as love, grief, wealth, illness and all their other renditions were merely additions and subtractions to such an equation.
This rational, objective perspective didn’t require much effort and it was much more efficient than any other mindsets he’d previously encountered.
He only wished that the heart was more often aligned with the mind as it continued to yearn for that which would always remain out of his reach.
Kaveh, the Light of Kshahrewar, was akin to a flower on a high peak. It should only be adored, admired, and never plucked as it were unattainable. Once the brave dared to snatch it from its roots, the cliff edge, their figure and the flower they desired so badly would tumble and they’d fall to their despair. That was his essence at its core: beauty at the cost of demise once yearned for.
He was with a client, the two of them sharing a business lunch as his technologically advanced briefcase, Mehrak, emitted an interactive holographic mock-up of what the completed design would look like in reality. If one were to ask him the object of his affection, it would be Mehrak and his work.
He’d often said he was saving up to move out and build his dream. As for what it was, no one inquired any further, often assuming his heart had already set its sights on someone and he’d aimed to move out with them, which was undeniably much too far from the truth. The Light of Kshahrewar remained a bachelor.
Kaveh hummed as he headed back home, satisfied with the meeting he’d completed. It was another job well-done and they’d get the construction started soon, with the materials he had recommended as well. They’d promised to send through another advance payment to express their gratitude for his exquisite design and impeccable advice, so this week’s rent would no longer be a concern.
If work continued to go well, he’d be able to move out of Alhaitham’s home soon enough and find elsewhere to stay, until he achieved his dream: to build a mansion and live in it extravagantly. There would be wine, paintings, and each aspect of its interior design would be selected or designed by himself. He aimed for it to be his next masterpiece after the Palace of Alcazarzary.
As he arrived at the doorstep, he was positively convinced that there was nothing that could possibly sour his mood now. His hand dove into his pocket as he searched for his key, quite eager to jump into bed and catch up on lost sleep.
…Oh no , he thought. Perhaps he’d spoken too soon. A feeling of dread began to set itself in the pit of his stomach as he pulled out the inner fabric of his pockets to reveal nothing. Oh no no no.
He scrambled to open up Mehrak, despite his awareness that he didn’t keep what he had been searching for within his briefcase but on his person. Of all days, he’d forgotten his key.
He was very well-tempted to kick the door down at times and would’ve acted on it, if not for the fact it was the middle of the day and Alhaitham would charge him reparation costs.
Kaveh spun on his heel with a groan as he made his way to the Akademiya, specifically to the Acting Grand Sage’s office.
Alhaitham was a man that embodied the very word ‘unnerved’. Although, often a cause for aggravation, his blunt objectivity and rationality was an asset to the Akademiya and it certainly sped things up.
However, that would not be the perfect descriptor for his current state as Lesser Lord Kusanali peered over his desk on her tip-toes whilst he sifted through the shortlisted Grand Sage applications. Usually, she’d call him, amongst several others, to the Sanctuary of Sarusthana if she wished to speak with them, but there were rare occasions where she wished to wander about.
“Even if you stare at me, this won’t be done any faster,” Alhaitham stated.
“I know,” she replied, a small smile forming to adorn her childlike features. “I am merely curious on how you have been performing in your temporary role.”
He stared at her blankly and responded monotonously. “Lesser Lord Kusanali, if you’ll allow me to be blunt, I am tired, burnt out, lethargic, and very eager to go home. Being a grand sage, even if temporarily, wasn’t in the scribe’s initial job description.”
She beamed up at him. “I’ve heard that things gradually change with time and humans have readily adapted to those circumstances.”
“I have not. Not to mention that this set of circumstances is not particularly in my favour.”
“The Akademiya informed me you were receiving adequate compensation,” she hummed as she cupped her chin.
“That is correct.”
“Then why?”
“I’m not interested in leading. It requires further psychological exertion of the brain… mine in this case, and I would rather devote that energy to other tasks, such as—”
Alhaitham immediately turned away from her direction as he felt a lump rise in his throat and his breaths began to sound more haggard. He bit down on his bottom lip in a futile effort to restrain himself, but still, he coughed haphazardly, dried spots of blood and wilted petals soiling his palm. He wiped the edges of his lips with the back of his palm as Lesser Lord Kusanali continued to observe him.
“You’re suffering, aren’t you? …It must be painful.”
It was more of an idle statement, than a question. Her omniscient gaze was meeting his, likely aware of what had afflicted him and why he continued to suffer, instead of reaching for the one available cure to his ailment.
“Alhaitham, your time—” she started.
“Lesser Lord Kusanali, I’ll excuse myself for now,” he interrupted hastily.
He abruptly lifted himself from his seat, the wooden chair squeaking against the marble floor, and started towards the elevator as he made a brisk departure from his office. It wasn’t very often that people weren’t interested in hearing what she had to say, but she understood there were exceptional cases to everything now and then. In the end, she was still learning, despite being renowned as the God of Wisdom.
Another set of footsteps was heard as a different man entered the room. The new visitor blinked curiously at her, then crouched down to meet her on eye-level as he examined her. She hardly even needed to extract information from the Akasha nor the Irminsul to determine his identity as Kaveh.
He scanned the room, then returned his gaze to her. From his look of confusion, he must’ve misunderstood and thought her to be a lost child. She decided not to correct him as there was simply no need to.
“What’s a little girl doing here?” he murmured. “…Come to think of it, you do look a little familiar though…”
Oddly enough, Kaveh found the little girl quite endearing. He raised a hand, then gently stroked her head. “Young lady, you wouldn’t have happened to see a very tall, grey-haired man around, have you?”
“He took the elevator,” she replied as she gestured towards it.
He’s at the pavilion , she thought, but she’d keep that knowledge to herself. In the present moment, what occupied her attention the most was the way Kaveh had stroked her head so familiarly.
“Thank you, young lady. Perhaps I’ll see you again next time.”
With that, Kaveh rose and dashed to the elevator, wondering why an odd sense of nostalgia dwelled within him as he touched her. The moment he’d made contact with her, his Dendro vision twinkled and seemed to resonate with something… or someone . She had clearly noticed too, her emerald irises flicking towards it once it happened. One person came to mind, but he fervently shook his head.
Surely, it can’t be… right? he thought.
Kaveh left the Akademiya and searched his surroundings, hoping to catch a glimpse of Alhaitham but to no avail. He stood, then paced forward as he headed down the spiralling platform that led to the Akademiya. He glanced towards the direction of the pavilion, deciding he’d sit there and find something to do until Alhaitham returned home. He’d always leave as soon as his working hours were over and would return home. The issue was whether he was bothered enough to open the door. No, if he waited for Alhaitham outside – but then that would imply he was visiting Alhaitham and waiting for him, or that they lived together. Either way, it simply didn’t work out in his favour.
As he reached the pavilion, he caught sight of the familiar black and viridian green garments, and the grey hair. He stormed over, resisting the urge to beat him over the head with Mehrak, fully aware that Mehrak deserved better treatment. As he drew closer, he suddenly halted.
A metallic smell in the air and in its direction, Alhaitham.
“Alhaitham!”
He rushed over to see Alhaitham’s hand pressed firmly against his mouth as he coughed violently. Kaveh tore Alhaitham’s hand away to observe dried blood and… wilted petals. While coloured a deep red, the faint purple and white he managed to discern were reminiscent of Sumeru roses and padisarah. Whatever flowers they were wasn’t the priority now though.
He pulled down at Alhaitham’s jaw and peered into the inner corners of his mouth as he wondered if this man had suddenly introduced flowers into his diet, but there was nothing. If there was anyone that could successfully diagnose Alhaitham in a moment, it would’ve been there.
He threw Alhaitham’s arm over his shoulder and hoisted him off the pavilion’s seat and grunted as he observed the way Alhaitham’s feet dragged at the floor as his body was almost slack.
“You’re so tall, so you better not mind if I drag your feet a little.”
As he rushed off, Alhaitham’s breaths remained ragged, harsh and strained, almost as if his throat had been constricted. In the pit of Kaveh’s stomach dwelled a feeling of uneasiness; the voice within him telling him that this was no ordinary ailment.
What he initially thought to be a form of karmic retribution may have been far, far more complex.
Kaveh trudged through the entrance to Avidya Forest, with Alhaitham barely hanging onto him. He scanned the premises for the patrol guards that were usually not too distant from their assigned posts, but no one was present. He could only hope that they were changing shifts and that he hadn’t arrived at a bad time, where they wouldn’t have the resorces to treat Alhaitham.
He continued forward to the small vicinity where Tighnari usually performed minor treatments for adventurers and where he’d brought Collei, whenever she seemed to feel unwell. Speaking of, she seemed considerably better the last time he’d seen her, which was a relief.
“Oh? Is that you and Alhaitham, Kaveh?”
Kaveh spun on his heel to see the person he’d wished for the most. “Tighnari!”
Upon seeing Alhaitham’s state, Tighnari’s lips formed a thin line and he beckoned them inside wordlessly. There was a slight crease in between his knitted brows, almost in the same way it were in his exasperated expressions when he spoke of silly adventurers with a death wish.
Tighnari helped Kaveh lay Alhaitham onto the bed and extracted a vial from a nearby drawer. As soon as he uncorked it, he’d forced it into Alhaitham’s mouth. Alhaitham took a sharp inhale as Tighnari did so, then relaxed – the tension clearly leaving his body.
“Sealed Anemo energy,” he elaborated as he received an enquiring gaze from Kaveh. “It’ll stabilise his airway and the oxygen in his body temporarily. Other than that, I can’t do much else for him… I’m not an official medical practitioner after all. I’m just a Forest Ranger.”
Tighnari shrugged as he spoke and Kaveh chuckled lightly. “I know, but you were the first that came to mind.”
Tighnari pressed his hand against Alhaitham’s forehead and breathed a tired sigh. Alhaitham’s undoing was partially his own fault, but he supposed he understood why if he looked at it from his perspective.
“What does he have? How long has he been suffering? Is it curable?” Kaveh started, before backing up. “I’m not worried by the way, I’m just making sure I don’t catch it.”
A light smile decorated Tighnari’s youthful features. All that, yet he hadn’t even asked in his initial flurry of questions – it was clearly nothing more than an afterthought to avoid further confrontation.
“It would probably be in Alhaitham’s best interests for you to not know,” Tighnari mused as he pulled his hand away from the man. It wasn’t like the ailment affected anything other than his bronchial tubes after all. “Although, I’ve never been one to side with those that intentionally put their lives on the line and flirt with death. I know you can hear me, you can’t hide it anymore, Alhaitham.”
Alhaitham opened his eyes and he turned his gaze to Kaveh through half-lidded irises. He felt like he’d been awakened from a delirium, despite being half-conscious while Kaveh lugged him to Avidya Forest.
“Nothing will change if he knows,” Alhaitham grunted out.
“And surely it’s precisely because nothing will change that he should know?” Tighnari retorted.
“You’re a little more disagreeable than I remember.”
“You know I’ve always been like this, especially with adventurers that don’t fear death,” Tighnari hummed, before pausing as he corrected himself. “You don’t fear death. In fact–... Kaveh, a moment alone with Alhaitham please.”
“O-Oh, ok…” he stammered awkwardly. Maybe I’ll wait outside , he added internally, although it seemed Tighnari had caught on.
“And no eavesdropping,” he remarked as he pinched the end of his ears. “You can’t fool these. Relieve some stress by taking a walk around the forest. You may think of it as breathing in the air Alhaitham can’t.”
Kaveh nodded compliantly and headed outward, leaving Alhaitham and Tighnari to their own devices. Alhaitham turned his head slightly to face Tighnari, a sly expression on his face.
“I’m not in a suitable state to be interrogated.”
“I will not ask you many questions, Alhaitham. Answer it honestly,” Tighnari interrupted, clearly no longer bothered to mask the increasing frustration that now donned his expression. “Why haven’t you told Kaveh? Have you refrained from telling him, precisely to protect him, or will you tell him because he should know as he is the object of your affections?”
Alhaitham remained silent. To Tighnari, it may have been a simple question, but to Alhaitham, it was akin to asking for a piece of his soul – a request for him to lay his heart bare. He parted his lips in an attempt to speak, then shut it again.
Tighnari observed his reluctance and continued with a sigh. “Kaveh may not be as emotionally fragile as you think he is.”
“Perhaps emotionally fragile wasn’t the correct choice of words at the time,” he recalled. This time, without any hesitance. “Kaveh is emotionally perceptive, and it is because he resonates with others’ emotions so much that he experiences unimaginable agony and relishes in his own impossible, romanticised ideals. It is because of this same reason that he is so sensitive and becomes upset or angry quite easily.”
“I think you play a very large part in his pent-up anger,” he pointed out. “Kaveh deserves to know. If you don’t tell him while you can, perhaps he will live the rest of his life in regret, reflecting upon his inability to help his roommate, even if he tries to put up a front.”
Alhaitham stared at Tighnari hazily, then smiled solemnly. “Easier said than done. Have you ever fallen in love, Tighnari?”
“You’re redirecting this conversation to me?” he laughed. Without missing a beat, he’d folded his arms and replied frankly. “I prefer to not choke on the botany I care for, so no, I haven’t. Telling me I won’t understand anything won’t solve the problem, Alhaitham.”
“That wasn’t the intention,” Alhaitham interrupted, speaking over Tighnari. He redirected his gaze to the ceiling and hesitated, before continuing to speak. “I didn’t realise that falling in love was wanting the person you’re in love with to be happy.”
Quite honestly, Tighnari didn’t get it and stared blankly at Alhaitham. It was clear for him to see that Alhaitham was simply… enamoured . Far from infatuation and that of obsession, but a love so tender that it was unfathomable to anyone — all but Alhaitham himself. Even he, despite his ignorance to the ways of love, saw the sparkle and glimmer reflecting in his eyes as he spoke of Kaveh.
“If you want him to be happy, then tell him and take the risk,” Tighnari said. “Tell him you love him and dedicate the rest of your life to making him fall in love with you. Your time is running out. If you act on those feelings, Alhaitham, this is your attempt at survival.”
Alhaitham parted his lips, then turned to face Tighnari – the intensity of his words had been clearly conveyed. He could see the way his body tensed and the wavering reluctance that dwelled within those irises: a wish to respect Alhaitham’s desires, yet one that also wished to egg him on.
“I’ll think about it,” Alhaitham sighed. “Meanwhile, I relent. You can tell him about the disease then.”
“Two steps forward and one step back,” Tighnari remarked as he stood and made his way to the exit. “I’ll bring him back, so you two can also talk it out.”
With that, Tighnari left and scanned the general forest for any sign of where Kaveh might be. He closed his eyes, focusing on all the sounds around him. There was the sound of bustling footsteps from everyone else in the village, the distant sound of bugs and birds chirping, the crackling sound as fires were set to make tonight’s dinner — there , a tired sigh not too far away. He could’ve been mistaken, but it seemed much like Kaveh’s voice.
He made his way over to see Kaveh standing idly by the edge of the landscape, looking outward to the distant waterfall.
“Kaveh,” he called.
Kaveh turned at the call of his name, with widened eyes. “How is he?”
“He’s declining,” Tighnari half-lied. His condition was falling, but he was so-so and still quite stable. “But he’ll be fine… for now.”
Kaveh’s gaze fell. He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, only to shut it again as nothing else would come out.
“Alhaitham suffers from a chronic, foreign ailment, known as the Hanahaki Disease,” Tighnari started, watching as Kaveh leaned in to listen closer. “It was first discovered in Inazuma, hence being named as such — the origins being from ‘hanasaki’ meaning ‘flower bloom’ as the symptoms were coughing up blood and petals in the later stages. Its development is that of floral growth within the lungs and bronchial tubes, restricting oxygen, and continues until the sufferer dies.”
“I don’t understand…” Kaveh muttered to himself, then raised a question. “Alhaitham is so lazy he’d rather stay indoors all day, every day if he could. Where did he even—”
“It’s…” Tighnari hesitated as he interrupted Kaveh, then continued awkwardly as he scratched the end of his ear. “It’s an illness birthed from unrequited love.”
Kaveh’s jaw dropped. That wasn’t an expression he’d managed to see everyday. He seemed to have a difficult time processing the information as he pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged his temple.
“No, no, that can’t be right… I mean, that Alhaitham? Surely not— no, but this is Tighnari… he wouldn’t make a joke like this...”
“I can hear every word, just so you know,” Tighnari pointed out flatly. “As unbelievable as it may be, it’s not a lie.”
“…When was he first diagnosed?”
Tighnari’s lips were pursed into a thin, firm line, and it was clear to Kaveh that this was a question he wouldn’t receive the answer to. He nodded, then ran his hands through his hair — still reeling over the unexpected reality.
“Is there any cure at all?”
“There is one,” he replied as he began to elaborate. “It’s a surgical procedure, where they remove the floral growth… at the cost of the patient losing all feelings and memories associated with their object of affection.”
Kaveh remained speechless. Only through lost love can there be salvation. “…Can I go and see him?”
“Yes. I have other duties to attend to, but call out if you need anything as I’ll be close.”
Kaveh didn’t take his time making his way over to the small residence that Alhaitham had been resting in. As he entered, he couldn’t tell if Alhaitham had been asleep or was simply resting his eyes as they’d been closed. Regardless, he roughly shook at the man’s shoulder.
Alhaitham’s brows knitted together in frustration as his eyes groggily fluttered open. A frown was featured on his expression as he was clearly upset that his rest had been interrupted quite rudely.
“Tighnari told me everything,” Kaveh stated.
“…Everything?” he parroted.
“ Everything ,” Kaveh emphasised.
Alhaitham sat up as he met Kaveh’s gaze, then contemplated momentarily. This was Kaveh. If he’d known he was the object of affection, he’d most certainly be acting different, so it wasn’t precisely everything as he claimed it to be.
Kaveh interrupted his train of thought. “He told me about the Hanahaki Disease and its origins, and… the fact that there’s a cure, but I presume you know that already.”
Alhaitham simply nodded in acknowledgement.
“I–... I can’t decide on the path of your heart.”
And yet, he was already a significant landmark within.
“It’s up to you what you want to do, of course…” Kaveh murmured as he went on. “But it’s so unlike you to choose death over life. It’s… irrational and out-of-character.”
“Out of character, you say…” Alhaitham hummed. “Are you going to claim you know me like the back of your hand?”
Kaveh’s gaze met Alhaitham’s before he averted his own. “You understand me, and I you. At least, I was supposed to. Both the rationales and the motives in that clunky head of yours is what I don’t understand.”
Alhaitham didn’t respond.
Kaveh buried his face in his hands as he sharply inhaled, then exhaled. “You can’t kick the bucket yet. You… you still have overdue rent to collect, more ugly furniture to buy with my mora and once you die, it’s over! You can’t just laze around anymore! It’s finished. That’s the end of it!”
Alhaitham sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you just say you’ll be lonely and be done with your tantrum?”
“I have other people in my life. Unlike you, I don’t spend all my time alone, dating a book, but—” Kaveh hesitated momentarily, then continued. “W-What’s wrong with being lonely?”
Needless to say, Kaveh was flustered. It was almost a little endearing.
Kaveh roughly wiped away the tears that prickled the corners of his eyes with the end of his sleeve. “I’ll help you out just this once. Tell me who it is and I’ll set you up.”
Alhaitham scoffed, but not out of irritation. “Impossible.”
“…You didn’t fall in love with someone that’s already married, did you?”
Alhaitham was almost stunned speechless. “Is your perception of me that negative?”
“Well, you’re leaving me to guess and you said it’s impossible…” Kaveh recounted as he cupped his chin, sifting through the possibilities within his mind and then he snapped his fingers, as it dawned on him. “I can’t help you if you’ve fallen for the traveller.”
Alhaitham sighed.
“So I was correct?” Kaveh egged on.
“Quite the opposite.”
Kaveh frowned and placed his hands on his hips, his irritation clearly increasing with each rejection and by the passing moment. “How long are you going to make me play this guessing game for?”
Alhaitham relented and beckoned Kaveh over, gesturing for him to take a seat on the bed and he did so willingly. As he did, Alhaitham reached out towards him.
However, Kaveh had been oblivious to it, entranced by the soft smile of resignation that painted Alhaitham’s features. It had been such a long time since he’d seen such an expression. The last time was likely back when they shared research during their time at the Akademiya. Even then, the expression he could recall the most vividly was Alhaitham’s disagreeable expression during their last conversation, or argument for that matter, as their relationship fell apart.
Only when there was contact did Kaveh flinch slightly. Alhaitham’s fingers softly brushed back his stray strands of blond hair, tucking it behind his ear. His pale crimson irises locked with Alhaitham’s teal eyes, and his breath hitched as Alhaitham caressed his cheek, then descending slowly as he tenderly traced Kaveh’s lips.
Kaveh was paralysed. The static electricity had run its course through him and its heat burned in his chest as the distance between them gradually closed. Their noses bumped slightly and their breaths mingled, until Alhaitham slammed his forehead against Kaveh’s.
Kaveh had broken out of the trance almost immediately, clutching at his forehead and backed away. He stood up, ready to curse Alhaitham once his headache subsided, but his arm was taken and he’d been pulled back, stumbling forward and realising his hand had been pressed up against Alhaitham’s chest.
He was ready to slap Alhaitham’s hand away any moment, until an undesirable, unfamiliar truth began to sink in. Beneath his palm was a racing heart. Almost as if he’d been brought to touch a naked flame, Kaveh recoiled and tore away from Alhaitham’s grasp.
Alhaitham smiled ironically and finally conveyed the words he’d always wished to leave unsaid. “I love you, Kaveh, to the point it’s tearing me up from the inside out.”
Alhaitham had lifted his gaze, observing the way Kaveh kept his hands close to himself. What he didn’t expect was the uncharacteristically flushed face and slightly glazed eyes that reflected none other than himself. Somewhere, within the depths of those pale crimson irises, he noted there was a hint of uncomfortability, but even so, in this very moment, Kaveh’s attention solely belonged to him.
Kaveh was no stranger to love, often rejecting advances as soon as he received them, yet here he was: blubbering with parted lips, like a fish out of water as he attempted to speak, yet the words never left him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and wordlessly dashed out of the small clinic, with Alhaitham staring after his retreating figure. He’d heeded Tighnari’s previous words, despite knowing of the risks when venturing into unknown territory.
“If you want him to be happy, then tell him and take the risk. Tell him you love him and dedicate the rest of your life to making him fall in love with you. Your time is running out. If you act on those feelings, Alhaitham, this is your attempt at survival.”
If this were to lead him to an unhappy ending, then so be it.
In the end, he’d have no one but to blame for himself.