[ Why wouldn't he be? Because that man managed to rile him up enough that he lashed out, a break of composure Kaveh's rarely seen in all the time he's known Alhaitham. Because he made him come to this party (no matter what the scribe says about Kaveh's ability to make him do anything at all), and now it's turned into a spectacle of the worst kind.

Because the architect yet again caused problems for someone he loves by making stupid choices. If he hadn't been so quick to whore himself out—

(And there's that word again, stuck in his thoughts despite his attempts to shut it out, holding on with both hands to whisper cruelly into his mind.)

Instinct has him hide the pain even when it's obvious that Alhaitham can see right through him, even when the other's gaze looks at him so searchingly before he reaches to pull him close, holding him tight and firm in way that makes the elder of the two want to break down into the tears he's been holding back since this whole mess started. The quiet murmur into his hair is equally as dangerous, and Kaveh finds himself remaining silent for a while longer than he should, taking slow and measured breaths in an effort to calm himself down, to stop the outburst on the tip of his tongue, the anguished exclamation that he did deserve it, that he started this whole damn thing with his stupid games.

Instead, he presses closer, continuing that slow pattern of inhale and exhale, hoping that with the way he's curled into Alhaitham's embrace, the hitch and shudder in each breath isn't too obvious. ]

I wanna go home— [ is what he says when he finally works up the courage to speak, although the slight shift in topic is necessary for him to keep any of his composure at all ] —I know I can't right now, but I do.

[ And despite his best efforts, a sniffle— although it's followed by a soft, wet laugh, an accusation spoken without anger: ]

Damnit Alhaitham, I was doing a good job of holding myself together until you hugged me.