[ is his unassuming reply, because they'd both rather be at home - ah, 'home', a stranger concept now than it'd been two weeks ago - than in this hellhole of a social extravaganza. but there's some consolation in the fact that the hubbub in the main hall had returned to its previous volume, the drama already forgotten (or being discussed loudly in the circles dotted around the room). even if they had to venture back in for career or face's sake, at least the worst of it was likely over.
as the blonde laughs and playfully admonishes him, his quiet voice a soft rumble against the skin of his neck, alhaitham keeps holding him for a few more moments. the scribe was still attempting to figure out the various cadences and situations in which kaveh would end up in tears and largely it still confuses him - but at least this time he's fairly certain they're good tears, letting out the stress of the altercation if nothing else.
and then, reluctantly, he eases his hold on the architect, moving back just enough to look him seriously in the eyes. large hands travel down to rest at the sides of his arms atop the crimson fabric of his shirt that so beautifully lit up his eyes, even if they were threatening to cry. ]
Since when could you hold yourself together around me anyway?
[ a jocular jab in return, because falling into their habits seemed to bring comfort and distraction. unfortunately, they both have responsibilities and jobs to do so going back into the fray was non-negotiable, so alhaitham instead sets about straightening kaveh's collar so it sits right again; fixes some stray hair that was out of place. all very analytical and meticulous, all very him. ]
When you're ready to go home, say the word and we'll leave -
[ a beat, and there's the tiniest hint of devilry hiding in the back of his eyes; ]
no subject
[ is his unassuming reply, because they'd both rather be at home - ah, 'home', a stranger concept now than it'd been two weeks ago - than in this hellhole of a social extravaganza. but there's some consolation in the fact that the hubbub in the main hall had returned to its previous volume, the drama already forgotten (or being discussed loudly in the circles dotted around the room). even if they had to venture back in for career or face's sake, at least the worst of it was likely over.
as the blonde laughs and playfully admonishes him, his quiet voice a soft rumble against the skin of his neck, alhaitham keeps holding him for a few more moments. the scribe was still attempting to figure out the various cadences and situations in which kaveh would end up in tears and largely it still confuses him - but at least this time he's fairly certain they're good tears, letting out the stress of the altercation if nothing else.
and then, reluctantly, he eases his hold on the architect, moving back just enough to look him seriously in the eyes. large hands travel down to rest at the sides of his arms atop the crimson fabric of his shirt that so beautifully lit up his eyes, even if they were threatening to cry. ]
Since when could you hold yourself together around me anyway?
[ a jocular jab in return, because falling into their habits seemed to bring comfort and distraction. unfortunately, they both have responsibilities and jobs to do so going back into the fray was non-negotiable, so alhaitham instead sets about straightening kaveh's collar so it sits right again; fixes some stray hair that was out of place. all very analytical and meticulous, all very him. ]
When you're ready to go home, say the word and we'll leave -
[ a beat, and there's the tiniest hint of devilry hiding in the back of his eyes; ]
I'll even cause another scene, if necessary.