What? I wasn't talking about us. I was talking about you.
[ alhaitham retorts defensively, mostly because his meaning had been more kaveh's reputation, his career, his future which could be in jeopardy if he kept on the course of this overemotional spiral of his. his reply is too quick though, as if the blonde's response had actually hurt him - as if the prospect of what they'd been through together over the years, whether or not it had been interspersed with an egregious amount of bickering, had meant nothing.
alhaitham didn't choose to spend time around many people. he kept largely to himself, lived a quiet life, and maintained a very small circle of colleagues that he entertained the company of - 'friends' would probably be the more acceptable term, but it wasn't one the scribe had ever really paid much attention to.
the fact that he was still here, had taken kaveh in when he'd asked without even a second thought was already significant in relation to his other relationships. maybe that's why it smarts, he thinks, when the longest, most frustrating constant in his life didn't seem to consider their history as significant.
and so, alhaitham doesn't really know what to say after the apology. he's equal parts pissed off, hurt and guilty, observant gaze catching the tears collecting at the edges of kaveh's painfully beautiful eyes. it's an alien feeling, guilt, but seeing his roommate in this state was making everything a thousand times more difficult to handle objectively.
silence hangs heavily between them as they stand there awkwardly in the hallway, both drowning in foreign territory.
finally, alhaitham asks the only question that would seem to explain a lot of what had happened the past couple of days, his voice quiet but blunt; ]
no subject
[ alhaitham retorts defensively, mostly because his meaning had been more kaveh's reputation, his career, his future which could be in jeopardy if he kept on the course of this overemotional spiral of his. his reply is too quick though, as if the blonde's response had actually hurt him - as if the prospect of what they'd been through together over the years, whether or not it had been interspersed with an egregious amount of bickering, had meant nothing.
alhaitham didn't choose to spend time around many people. he kept largely to himself, lived a quiet life, and maintained a very small circle of colleagues that he entertained the company of - 'friends' would probably be the more acceptable term, but it wasn't one the scribe had ever really paid much attention to.
the fact that he was still here, had taken kaveh in when he'd asked without even a second thought was already significant in relation to his other relationships. maybe that's why it smarts, he thinks, when the longest, most frustrating constant in his life didn't seem to consider their history as significant.
and so, alhaitham doesn't really know what to say after the apology. he's equal parts pissed off, hurt and guilty, observant gaze catching the tears collecting at the edges of kaveh's painfully beautiful eyes. it's an alien feeling, guilt, but seeing his roommate in this state was making everything a thousand times more difficult to handle objectively.
silence hangs heavily between them as they stand there awkwardly in the hallway, both drowning in foreign territory.
finally, alhaitham asks the only question that would seem to explain a lot of what had happened the past couple of days, his voice quiet but blunt; ]
Do you hate me, Kaveh?