[ Even in the afterglow, Kaveh is the emotion to Alhaitham's logic, the words easy to say— instinctive, almost— on account of their being what he feels. And perhaps over the few weeks they've been dating now, he's said it a little too often— certainly more than he's ever cared to say it in previous relationships. But not once has Kaveh expected Alhaitham to echo his declarations; in fact, while his memory of it is limited at best, on the drunken night of his confession he admitted even that he would be okay if the other man didn't return his feelings at all— as long as he didn't lose him.
Right now, though, as he drags the towel lazily over those parts of himself stained with their completion, Alhaitham asks such a loaded question of him, and there's a momentary guilt that settles, a realization that perhaps he didn't make that clear enough.
The towel is abandoned, eyes shifting across to the lounging form of his boyfriend on the bed, body turning to face him in the next moment, something soft in his gaze as he reaches out, long fingers tracing down the sharp curve of Alhaitham's jaw. And given the hitch still in his breath, the still too-quick rhythm of his pulse, he probably shouldn't be risking moving so close, but the moment calls for it too intensely for Kaveh to do anything else.
How does he know? It's a fair question, one with which Vahumana scholars have likely had a field day in the past. Love is complex, more than any language or mechanism could ever dare to be. It is as terrifying as it is beautiful, something desperately desiring description and at the same time existing beyond it, a feeling known deep in the heart even when you don't realize it's there.
Love is what Kaveh has held for Alhaitham in his heart for years, all the while ignorant of it.
But Alhaitham needs more than the abstract, doesn't he? He needs something concrete. Something quantifiable. Something able to be tested.
Crimson eyes search a sharp, pale face, lips pursed in thought. ]
You make me feel safe. You've seen all the worst sides of me and somehow you still stick around. I want to fix the parts of myself that are broken because you deserve the best of me, and I want to help you heal the parts of you that need it too. You're the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think of when I close my eyes. When I look at you, my stomach does this stupid thing that feels like butterflies bouncing off its sides. If I lost you, I don't know what I would do with myself.
[ And maybe, for the first time, he truly understands exactly what his father's death did to his mother, all those years ago. ]
It's all of those things and more, Alhaitham. It's more than I could ever have the talent to put into words. But... [ Kaveh's thumb smooths over the pale skin of his cheek. ] I need you to know that you don't have to say it back. Being with you, like this.. it's enough for me.
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Right now, though, as he drags the towel lazily over those parts of himself stained with their completion, Alhaitham asks such a loaded question of him, and there's a momentary guilt that settles, a realization that perhaps he didn't make that clear enough.
The towel is abandoned, eyes shifting across to the lounging form of his boyfriend on the bed, body turning to face him in the next moment, something soft in his gaze as he reaches out, long fingers tracing down the sharp curve of Alhaitham's jaw. And given the hitch still in his breath, the still too-quick rhythm of his pulse, he probably shouldn't be risking moving so close, but the moment calls for it too intensely for Kaveh to do anything else.
How does he know? It's a fair question, one with which Vahumana scholars have likely had a field day in the past. Love is complex, more than any language or mechanism could ever dare to be. It is as terrifying as it is beautiful, something desperately desiring description and at the same time existing beyond it, a feeling known deep in the heart even when you don't realize it's there.
Love is what Kaveh has held for Alhaitham in his heart for years, all the while ignorant of it.
But Alhaitham needs more than the abstract, doesn't he? He needs something concrete. Something quantifiable. Something able to be tested.
Crimson eyes search a sharp, pale face, lips pursed in thought. ]
You make me feel safe. You've seen all the worst sides of me and somehow you still stick around. I want to fix the parts of myself that are broken because you deserve the best of me, and I want to help you heal the parts of you that need it too. You're the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think of when I close my eyes. When I look at you, my stomach does this stupid thing that feels like butterflies bouncing off its sides. If I lost you, I don't know what I would do with myself.
[ And maybe, for the first time, he truly understands exactly what his father's death did to his mother, all those years ago. ]
It's all of those things and more, Alhaitham. It's more than I could ever have the talent to put into words. But... [ Kaveh's thumb smooths over the pale skin of his cheek. ] I need you to know that you don't have to say it back. Being with you, like this.. it's enough for me.