[ is alhaitham's dry response at kaveh's curse, only just resisting the urge to roll his eyes if only because this situation felt like treading on eggshells. considering the state the other was in, one wrong move or one wrong word could likely send him back into tears - always overemotional, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. unfortunately for kaveh, alhaitham was all wrong words when it came to 'feelings'. too hard to sort neatly into boxes; too tiring to think too much about.
perhaps he'd misjudged their relationship? perhaps it was purely transactional, after all? why else would the question be so hard to answer?
for alhaitham, there was rarely grey areas - at least, up until recently. 'yes' and 'no' were arguably simple conclusions to reach. ]
What am I supposed to interpret from that? [ the scribe touches his hand to his own forehead in annoyance, a sigh escaping his lips. ] Is it an imperative? Indicative? Or did you simply expend yourself so entirely last night that constructing a full sentence is now beyond your capability?
[ his attempt at clarification comes across, as usual, as cold and analytical as it often did. but rarely was kaveh rendered speechless, and now alhaitham had witnessed this miracle several times within the space of 48 hours. whatever had snuck under his skin to rile him up so much must be significant for the blonde not to snatch at such a low hanging fruit of a question.
so why did he feel at least some minor satisfaction at the fact the answer hadn't been an outright, 'yes, i hate your fucking guts'? 'yes, now leave me the hell alone'? it felt almost as compelling as the urge to exercise whatever means he had to prevent those tears from spilling down kaveh's face. ]
no subject
[ is alhaitham's dry response at kaveh's curse, only just resisting the urge to roll his eyes if only because this situation felt like treading on eggshells. considering the state the other was in, one wrong move or one wrong word could likely send him back into tears - always overemotional, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. unfortunately for kaveh, alhaitham was all wrong words when it came to 'feelings'. too hard to sort neatly into boxes; too tiring to think too much about.
perhaps he'd misjudged their relationship? perhaps it was purely transactional, after all? why else would the question be so hard to answer?
for alhaitham, there was rarely grey areas - at least, up until recently. 'yes' and 'no' were arguably simple conclusions to reach. ]
What am I supposed to interpret from that? [ the scribe touches his hand to his own forehead in annoyance, a sigh escaping his lips. ] Is it an imperative? Indicative? Or did you simply expend yourself so entirely last night that constructing a full sentence is now beyond your capability?
[ his attempt at clarification comes across, as usual, as cold and analytical as it often did. but rarely was kaveh rendered speechless, and now alhaitham had witnessed this miracle several times within the space of 48 hours. whatever had snuck under his skin to rile him up so much must be significant for the blonde not to snatch at such a low hanging fruit of a question.
so why did he feel at least some minor satisfaction at the fact the answer hadn't been an outright, 'yes, i hate your fucking guts'? 'yes, now leave me the hell alone'? it felt almost as compelling as the urge to exercise whatever means he had to prevent those tears from spilling down kaveh's face. ]