[ oddly enough, his abstract way of phrasing seems to resonate with kaveh in a way alhaitham almost doesn't expect. catching those ruby eyes filling to the brim with tears again, he briefly considers asking what he'd said wrong this time - only to be silenced by the architect drawing himself up from the bar seat and kissing him. chaste, pleasant, just what it needed to be.

then kaveh has to ruin it by trying to compliment him on something he hadn't even realised he'd done, making alhaitham purse his lips and stare almost indignantly back at him. there's no real fire to it, just reminiscent of his normal, somewhat sour attitude: ]

Don't be ridiculous. [ he scolds the blonde, as if he was the romantic out of the two. ] Just how bad is that hangover, if you're going to go spouting such nonsense?

[ but his grumbling seems to have a different context now, even though it's the same voice, the same dynamic, the same them. bare, muscled arms snake around kaveh's bare waist in that protective way he's held the blonde what, twice now in the past two weeks? - and keeps him close, skin to skin. alhaitham doesn't even really think about it, which is unsettling for him.

perhaps it's just instinctual, that he doesn't want to let the other go.

he's warm where alhaitham is cool, all graceful angles and lithe muscle; it just feels satisfying to be like this, like the correct words falling into place on a page. ]

I can't believe you're crying. Again? [ deep voice rumbling with disbelief, a hand leaves the blonde's waist to swipe a thumb at the corner of one of kaveh's crimson eyes, erasing the tears there. ] Sometimes I wonder if it's possible for me to say anything at all without making you weep.

[ - which would be a bit of a churlish thing to say if it wasn't punctuated by a soft kiss in return, gentler than his words. ]