[ this time he does actually cast his eyes down towards the plans that are thrust into his lap, though it's more of a cursory glance - alhaitham had read it all hours earlier, body tense and fingers crumpled into the paper as he'd skimmed over the thin blue lines and cursive notes. handwriting he'd gotten used to reading because kaveh was the sort of person who'd leave scribblings everywhere, jotting things down as inspiration struck no matter whether it was genius or nonsense.
however, he hadn't been prepared for what he'd picked up. alhaitham had assumed it'd just be another one of kaveh's many projects, client or otherwise, not - well, not a window into what had been going through the blonde's mind (at the time). he hadn't been prepared for the sheer amount of thought that had obviously gone into the design, especially since he'd been reading it after their relationship had all but split into a wide divide.
he hadn't been prepared for how much it had surprisingly, agonisingly, hopelessly hurt, either.
to have something within his grasp that he'd only experienced the fringes of or read about; to have some semblance of belonging and stability that was borne out of work other than his own. and - and, when kaveh mentions children of all things - not something that alhaitham had thought about in any detail because even the thought of a family was almost beyond his grasp and understanding - the scribe actually takes the battered roll of paper and unfurls it, looking over it again wordlessly even though he'd already memorised the contents.
the alcohol coursing through his system was so potent that his vision is almost swimming, but looking at the paper is an escape from meeting kaveh's eyes and giving away how disgustingly vulnerable he feels - so he just listens. reads. digests these... significant developments while trying to keep his emotions in check.
had they simply misunderstood each other again? was this damage irrevocable, or was there something to be salvaged if kaveh actually saw this - these four walls he'd drawn down in pencil on paper - in their future?
archons, his head is killing him and alhaitham knows that whatever he says next is probably going to be significant, but he's all out of fancy words and the sheer shift that he's been presented with would be fairly staggering for him even if he were sober. ]
A family.
[ is all he repeats to begin with, like the words were alien on his tongue. the scribe looks and sounds like absolute shit, but there's consideration in his tired voice as he seeks some comfort in things he actually understands - engineering, diagrams, sketches, paper.
even if they meant something emotionally significant, it was still solace.
some silence passes between the two as they sit side by side hunched over in a similar defeated fashion, alhaitham unsure in his drunken state what exactly to do next. the hurt in kaveh's voice still makes his heart twist even though he'd thought he'd closed himself off to that after his departure, and part of him desperately wants to reach over and fold into his arms the man that was his. had been. is?
he doesn't know. ]
Ironic. For perhaps the first time, I was disappointed that I thought I'd been proven right. [ he murmurs, fingers of his right hand tracing over some of the specifications kaveh had written - some details about acoustic soundproofing in the study he'd drawn for him, because if anything proved that he knew alhaitham better than anyone else, it was the house in this diagram. ] What could make you think I was tired of this? Of you?
You know I'm not good at this kind of thing. Unsurprising that it ended up like this.
no subject
however, he hadn't been prepared for what he'd picked up. alhaitham had assumed it'd just be another one of kaveh's many projects, client or otherwise, not - well, not a window into what had been going through the blonde's mind (at the time). he hadn't been prepared for the sheer amount of thought that had obviously gone into the design, especially since he'd been reading it after their relationship had all but split into a wide divide.
he hadn't been prepared for how much it had surprisingly, agonisingly, hopelessly hurt, either.
to have something within his grasp that he'd only experienced the fringes of or read about; to have some semblance of belonging and stability that was borne out of work other than his own. and - and, when kaveh mentions children of all things - not something that alhaitham had thought about in any detail because even the thought of a family was almost beyond his grasp and understanding - the scribe actually takes the battered roll of paper and unfurls it, looking over it again wordlessly even though he'd already memorised the contents.
the alcohol coursing through his system was so potent that his vision is almost swimming, but looking at the paper is an escape from meeting kaveh's eyes and giving away how disgustingly vulnerable he feels - so he just listens. reads. digests these... significant developments while trying to keep his emotions in check.
had they simply misunderstood each other again? was this damage irrevocable, or was there something to be salvaged if kaveh actually saw this - these four walls he'd drawn down in pencil on paper - in their future?
archons, his head is killing him and alhaitham knows that whatever he says next is probably going to be significant, but he's all out of fancy words and the sheer shift that he's been presented with would be fairly staggering for him even if he were sober. ]
A family.
[ is all he repeats to begin with, like the words were alien on his tongue. the scribe looks and sounds like absolute shit, but there's consideration in his tired voice as he seeks some comfort in things he actually understands - engineering, diagrams, sketches, paper.
even if they meant something emotionally significant, it was still solace.
some silence passes between the two as they sit side by side hunched over in a similar defeated fashion, alhaitham unsure in his drunken state what exactly to do next. the hurt in kaveh's voice still makes his heart twist even though he'd thought he'd closed himself off to that after his departure, and part of him desperately wants to reach over and fold into his arms the man that was his. had been. is?
he doesn't know. ]
Ironic. For perhaps the first time, I was disappointed that I thought I'd been proven right. [ he murmurs, fingers of his right hand tracing over some of the specifications kaveh had written - some details about acoustic soundproofing in the study he'd drawn for him, because if anything proved that he knew alhaitham better than anyone else, it was the house in this diagram. ] What could make you think I was tired of this? Of you?
You know I'm not good at this kind of thing. Unsurprising that it ended up like this.