Shut up. [ It's another low mutter, but the bite that might otherwise be present is missing entirely, replaced with a soft curve at the corners of Kaveh's lips, a fondness in crimson that matches that worn in turquoise. ] You're the ridiculous one.
[ He's content to lean a little into the pressure of Alhaitham's hand at his back, enjoying the touch for what it is: something that would look perfectly benign to onlookers while actually being a sign of affection between the two of them. And somehow he finds that despite his usual vulnerabilities, his usual insecurities, he doesn't mind it that the other doesn't respond to his words. There's a lot of things in the world that Kaveh doubts, but the scribe isn't one of them.
Perhaps it helps that Alhaitham always says exactly what he meansโ even if it's caused them their share of problems in the past.
He's just picked up one glass of wine, in the midst of collecting another for his companion when they're suddenly approached by an academic with a question that apparently only Alhaitham can answer. Kaveh hands a second glass to his partner as he readies to depart. ]
Of course, [ he says, and there's a hint of a smile that curves the corners of his lips, in part amused at the reluctance in the other's voice as he leaves his side, in part at the fact that the scribe did so without making his unhappiness at the request known for all present. It's another reminder of how supportive he's being, and Kaveh can't help but feel warm all over at the knowledge. Who needs words, when Alhaitham shows his feelings through actions such as these?
It leaves the architect himself at a loose end for a moment or two, but he knows his partner is rightโ the best use of his time is to get face-time with the higher-ups he hasn't already greeted. So he seeks them out, smile readied on his face as he takes a few steps into the heart of the room, and stopped almost immediately by a hand on his arm, a tall man with a slight smile at his lips, something curious and calculating in his eyes.
"I just wanted to check," he says, his voice low and rumbling, "that you're okay, Kaveh."
Brows lifting, Kaveh regards the man with a curiosity of his own. There's something vaguely familiar about him, he thinks, and yet he can't place him, can't work out exactly how they're meant to know each other, how the man knows his name and has the confidence to speak it with such familiarity.
His lips part, a question between them, but the other is still speaking: "I hope you don't mind my approaching you here. I thought it best to wait until the scribe was otherwise engaged..." ]
no subject
[ He's content to lean a little into the pressure of Alhaitham's hand at his back, enjoying the touch for what it is: something that would look perfectly benign to onlookers while actually being a sign of affection between the two of them. And somehow he finds that despite his usual vulnerabilities, his usual insecurities, he doesn't mind it that the other doesn't respond to his words. There's a lot of things in the world that Kaveh doubts, but the scribe isn't one of them.
Perhaps it helps that Alhaitham always says exactly what he meansโ even if it's caused them their share of problems in the past.
He's just picked up one glass of wine, in the midst of collecting another for his companion when they're suddenly approached by an academic with a question that apparently only Alhaitham can answer. Kaveh hands a second glass to his partner as he readies to depart. ]
Of course, [ he says, and there's a hint of a smile that curves the corners of his lips, in part amused at the reluctance in the other's voice as he leaves his side, in part at the fact that the scribe did so without making his unhappiness at the request known for all present. It's another reminder of how supportive he's being, and Kaveh can't help but feel warm all over at the knowledge. Who needs words, when Alhaitham shows his feelings through actions such as these?
It leaves the architect himself at a loose end for a moment or two, but he knows his partner is rightโ the best use of his time is to get face-time with the higher-ups he hasn't already greeted. So he seeks them out, smile readied on his face as he takes a few steps into the heart of the room, and stopped almost immediately by a hand on his arm, a tall man with a slight smile at his lips, something curious and calculating in his eyes.
"I just wanted to check," he says, his voice low and rumbling, "that you're okay, Kaveh."
Brows lifting, Kaveh regards the man with a curiosity of his own. There's something vaguely familiar about him, he thinks, and yet he can't place him, can't work out exactly how they're meant to know each other, how the man knows his name and has the confidence to speak it with such familiarity.
His lips part, a question between them, but the other is still speaking: "I hope you don't mind my approaching you here. I thought it best to wait until the scribe was otherwise engaged..." ]