sempiternals | Hang up all my fragile thoughts

Okay.

[ His voice comes out as a shaky whisper, and while he doesn't release his grip on the phone even slightly, having his hand guided to rest against Alhaitham's chest offers a kind of comfort that he didn't know he needed. He can feel the other's heartbeat, sure and steady, and it helps just as much as the soft, firm cadence of his voice, as the sincere promises, grounding him little by little back into reality. ]

Okay, [ he says again. And he does, eyes dropping to the rise and fall of Alhaitham's chest so that he can mimic the motions, timing his breath along with the other man's. Breathing in, and then out, and then in once more. He's okay. He's not alone. He—

His eyes, still on Alhaitham's chest, catch sight of the phone in his hand, and his gaze wavers. His lip trembles. The hand on the other's tighten, and his eyes fly up to his face again as they fill with fresh tears. ]

Alhaitham—

[Kaveh utters his name like it's a lifeline. Vulnerable and pleading, anger and sadness and that unmistakable void of knowing not what to do, because there's nothing to do, that anyone can do. It all wraps around Alhaitham's heart, tugs at it until it chafes, tightens around it until it makes a mark. There's no alcohol this time, but there are tears to replace it. He seems to be always at the right (or wrong) time at the wrong (or right) place, to witness the depths of despair Kaveh can reach. And here they are again, with Alhaitham positioned as the anchor. The responsibility weighs heavily, yet it's a weight he's starting to accept. How could he not, when he's the one launching it into that abyss for Kaveh to cling to?]

Just keep breathing. [Alhaitham's voice is a soft command, firm yet filled with warmth. He gently removes the phone from Kaveh’s hand, setting it aside on the coffee table. The device seems to be a potential trigger for Kaveh's distress, and he wants it momentarily forgotten as Alhaitham seeks to refocus his attention. He shuffles to crouch just a bit closer and shifting his weight, for Kaveh not to stretch his arms so much, especially when Alhaitham guides that hand back up to the center of his chest, right below the green jewel he wears.]

Focus on me, right here. [He guides Kaveh's gaze back to his own with a slight inclination of his own head, encouraging eye contact to reinforce their connection.] There’s time to talk about everything else, but first, breathe. [He assures.] I’m not going anywhere, Kaveh. You know where to find me, how to find me. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t.

Alright. Should architecture reflect aesthetics or functionality, can you tell me? What's your stance on that debate? [The question might seem out of place, but Alhaitham’s intention is clear—to divert Kaveh’s thoughts from his immediate worries and engage his mind in a familiar territory. As he speaks, he deliberately takes a deep breath, inflating his chest visibly, then slowly exhaling, modeling the breathing he wants Kaveh to mimic.]

[ Keep breathing, Alhaitham tells him, and Kaveh nods, trying to do just that. There's a moment where the younger man takes the phone from him and a fresh bout of panic settles in Kaveh's chest, a scrabble— but then the other moves closer, guides his hand back to his chest, their gazes to meet, and the blonde huffs out a soft sigh, trying to focus as he's been asked.

And Alhaitham's words are so sure, the inherent promise so strong. He's not going anywhere. It won't change.

(How can he be so sure?)

His breath wells again, a fresh bout of panic, but then a question follows, soft and sure, and Kaveh looks up at him quietly, absorbing the words... and then breathing out another soft sigh as his brain tries to piece together the best answer, the one most true for him. ]

It... [ He swallows. He doesn't need to think— he knows this, doesn't he? His fingers close a little harder around Alhaitham's wrist, and he nods, even as his eyes well with his tears. ]

Architecture.. ideally, it should reflect both. From an aesthete's perspective, apartments for example are a bane on the profession. At their core, they're mass-produced copies made from the same mold, and there's little to no room for creativity. But from the standpoint of functionality, they're important. Trying to design an individual home for every person that lives in Sumeru, let alone all of Teyvat, would be disastrous.

[ His voice sounds dull and listless at first, but starts to pick up strength as he keeps talking, as his eyes stay fixed on Alhaitham's. ]

Even in an individual building, there has to be a balance. It's one thing to want water features and wall-to-wall glass viewing windows, but you have to remember to consider where the bathroom will fit, or how cold it will get in winter with one wall made entirely of glass. Consider the falling water house. The idea in essence is beautiful, but do you know how much mora has been spent on it over the years on structural upkeep? Building a house over a constantly-rushing body of water isn't exactly the most functional idea, as beautiful as the concept is—

[ He takes a breath, and a hint of color lifts in his cheeks as he realizes how he's been ranting. ]

I. Sorry. I..

[The fervor with which Kaveh speaks about architecture, the blend of aesthetics and functionality, strikes a chord in Alhaitham. There’s an undeniable passion there, a depth that goes beyond mere academic interest to something more personal, more vital. He listens, genuinely captivated by the blend of technical knowledge and personal insight, seeing this part of Kaveh that thrives on intellectual stimulation and creative expression.]

You're doing good. Don’t apologize. [Alhaitham interrupts gently, his voice encouraging as he sees the flush of embarrassment rise in Kaveh’s cheeks. He's seen the flush on those cheeks several times now, but now, he doesn't want it.] Your passion for your work—it’s enlightening. Breathe with me, again. Once, twice. Good.

[He guides Kaveh through another cycle of deep breaths, slow and steady, each inhale and exhale designed to center and calm. As he does so, Alhaitham shifts from a crouch to a kneel, settling more comfortably on the floor in front of Kaveh. This slight adjustment in posture also serves to level their gazes, reinforcing the connection between them as equals in this shared space.] Do I have any earrings on?

[A silly question, but another one to ground them both to the moment.]

Now, tell me, [Alhaitham continues, gently steering the conversation as he finds common ground in their academic interests,] what’s your stance on brutalism? Is it merely lazy, or is it misunderstood?

[ Another breath, and another. Once. Twice. Three times, more. Each one comes a little steadier than the last, until the shakiness of the panic is all but gone, at least for now.

The question that follows is silly, and Kaveh shoots him a quizzical look, the barest hint of a giggle forming on the edges of his lips. ] Of course you don't, [ he replies. ] You don't have your ears pierced.

[ How he knew that he doesn't know... but he also doesn't have the time to dwell on the fact that he knew it, because Alhaitham is continuing on to ask him about brutalism. Kaveh's lips purse, and his head tilts. ]

I don't think "lazy" is the right term. Given the message it was trying to convey, minimalism in the design was important. The idea after all was the peel away all the pretty little things that we might use to hide the ugly parts of a building or its flaws, and show it for what it truly is. It's like when a model makes a statement by going without makeup or Photoshop. That said... [ His lips purse again. How to explain it... ] I think it had its time and place. If someone were trying to design a brutalist building in today's day and age, I'd want to know what the purpose of their message was. The world's kind of... been there and done that. You know?

[The trace of a giggle, the slight quirk of the lips—these small signs of Kaveh easing back from the precipice are a quiet victory for Alhaitham, who finds a surprising satisfaction in having facilitated this shift. Kaveh's response about his lack of earrings, noted with such casual certainty, is oddly comforting, grounding in its own way.

Nodding through Kaveh's explanation, Alhaitham inclines his head.] That is a very compelling argument. [He says, his curiosity then getting the best of him.] Do you think architecture should reflect its social context?

[ It's a complicated question when his mind is so frazzled. Kaveh bites his lip, trying to think of how he's meant to answer. ]

Sometimes...

[ Falling quiet again, he shakes his head. ]

I'm sorry, I can't.. This question deserves a better answer than I can really give right now.

[ The admission has fresh tears welling in his eyes, and his gaze drops from Alhaitham's. He should be able to answer it. He should. Any other day he'd be able to, but right now he can't find the words he needs to explain himself. The victory was in Alhaitham's grasp, but— ]

I'm just.. my brain isn't.. I...

I'm sorry.

[He says, and it feels monumental. He's not sure if he's ever said this. He didn't even apologize for what they did that night, either.

Alhaitham shakes his head. It's not a big deal but it is a big deal. Alhaitham should have braced himself for such an answer and it all but speaks to his own lack of experience here. He didn't have much time to put these methodologies into practice.] It's alright. I promise we can discuss it later. I'm looking forward to what you have to say.

[Alhaitham holds onto Kaveh's hands.] I'm going to reach for something. I'm not going anywhere. [He warns, careful, quiet, before he moves them so he can lean back, reach to the coffee table behind him.

And then places the little lion on Kaveh's hands.] Here. For your keys.

[ The moment that Alhaitham apologizes, Kaveh's eyes widen. Not because he's not expecting it— it's true that apologies don't exactly seem normal for him, but they also haven't known each other for that long— but because he feels guilty at the idea the other should even feel he needs to apologize. He shakes his head, a quick movement as words find his lips, stuttering and unsure. ]

No, you don't have to— it's not your fault, you're just trying to help—

[ But then the other is talking again, and he falls quiet, nodding, a strange sense of unease settling over him at the thought of the other leaving even though he's just said that he won't. But true to his word, he reaches away and then comes right back to him, a keychain placed in Kaveh's hands that the blonde blinks down at, bites his lip as a teardrop lands on its perfectly cute nose. ]

For... you bought this for me?

[He's sorry for everything. For whatever caused Kaveh's distress. For whatever had him spiral so hard and so fast, that he couldn't even be in his own room. Alhaitham is sorry that he can barely handle him, that Kaveh can only deal with the little best he can do so far.

(So far. So far. He wants to be better at this.)

He hums an affirmative, tries to make Kaveh giggle again.] It certainly doesn't fit my aesthetic. [He says softly, his voice almost a whisper.] Do you want to name it?

[ Once again, Alhaitham succeeds— Kaveh answers with a soft laugh at the joke, eyes crinkling (even if it does make another tear spill onto his palm) as he nods. And when they open again, he considers the lion for a moment or two, biting his lip thoughtfully.

Leo, he thinks privately, and then that raises a question, and his bloodshot eyes flick back up to Alhaitham's face. ]

...When is your birthday?

[He wishes he could reach to swipe those tears from his face. And yet, his hands don't move, settling on his thighs, curling before he finds himself stopping.

His eyebrows slant in a slight frown, a breathy little curious sound.] Hm? February 11th. Why?

[ He'll be pleased, perhaps, to see that Kaveh's lips curl slightly, a visible twinkle of amusement in his eyes despite the ever-welling tears. ]

Mm, that makes a lot of sense— I probably should have guessed.

In that case... I'll call him "Sadachbia". [ A glance in Alhaitham's direction to see if he knows what that is, but the man's face is as impassive as always, and so he continues: ] It's the name of the brightest star in the Aquarius constellation. I'm sure you know or can guess, with your background, but the name comes from the Sumerian phrase sa'd al-axbiyah.

[ Sa'd al-axbiyah, luck of the homes. Even if he doesn't realize it himself, what Kaveh is saying is very clear. ]

Should you? [Well, that's a new type of discussion they can get into. Was Kaveh into astrology?] How so?

[Although. Luck of the homes. Gamma Aquarii. A binary star that pivots around itself, otherwise it wouldn't be so bright.

He knows what Kaveh is saying. But he's also unsure of the magnitude of what he's saying. There's something hefty in his throat. He tries to swallow it down.]

I like it. [His lip twitches.] 'Sasa' for short.

'Sasa' for short.

[ Kaveh's agreement comes readily as he cradles the keychain in both hands. There's admittedly a part of him that wants to get up now and affix it to his keys. But the thought of moving away from Alhaitham right now leaves him feeling surprisingly unsafe, and so he doesn't— instead, he stays right where he is, and looks up at the other with another small smile. ]

I'll tell you about the rest later. [ "The rest" being astrology. He has no idea how interested in it Alhaitham would be, and he's already used up a lot of the man's patience today, in his mind. ] I'm a little tired.

[ And then, quietly: ]

My mom is pregnant. Six months. She only told me today.

[ It doesn't encompass the full weight of what Kaveh has experienced and his feelings, but it's perhaps enough of an insight as to the trigger for his upset. ]

[He nods, humming once again. Sometimes, talking only makes it worse, and Alhaitham still wishes to be present and acknowledge what Kaveh is saying. If he doesn't want to banter, that's fine.

And then—

The revelation hits with unexpected force. Alhaitham's expression softens, the pieces clicking into place—the intensity of Kaveh's distress, the depth of his loneliness. It's a significant moment in his life, one marked by isolation rather than celebration. He doesn't know the context but... he's willing to listen.]

I see. That's... a lot to process, especially hearing about it so suddenly.

[He pauses, weighing his words carefully.] Do you want to talk about it?

[ Once again, Kaveh is quiet for a moment, considering the offer that Alhaitham makes. On one hand, he wants to talk about it. For someone who is usually so careful to hide his anxieties and his feelings, there's a strange urge to tell the other everything, to admit to all the pains and frustrations he's felt his whole life, the guilt and trauma that followed his father's death and the way it holds onto him even now.

But right now he's barely holding on to his sanity. Right now he feels as if one wrong word will bring the world crashing down around him all over again.

So he shakes his head, a thumb stroking his stray tears off Sasa's face. ]

Not right now. If I talk now, I.. I think I'll break down again. But... maybe another time?

[Noticing Kaveh's reluctance to delve deeper into his emotions at this moment, Alhaitham nods in understanding, accepting his decision quietly. He shifts closer, his movements deliberate and gentle, to provide comfort without further overwhelming Kaveh. Slowly, he eases onto the couch beside him, the cushions dipping slightly under his weight.

He then turns to Kaveh, offering a silent invitation through his open demeanor and soft eyes. Reaching out, he gently guides Kaveh, encouraging him to adjust his position. With careful movements, he helps Kaveh to recline, guiding his head to rest comfortably in his lap. His hands are steady and warm as they smooth back stray locks of hair from Kaveh’s forehead, his touch light but reassuring.]

You don’t have to talk about anything. [Alhaitham's voice is low, meant to soothe. There's a tenderness there, one that he usually keeps well guarded, now given freely to Kaveh in his moment of need.] If you need to rest, we can just stay like this for a while.

[ Kaveh offers Alhaitham a small smile when he sits on the couch, and then— oh.

Of course it would be like this. So many times before someone has offered him comfort, helped him find calm from a moment of stress, only to expect something else of him by way of thanks. Why would this be any different?

(And why does his heart hurt so much when this is exactly what he should have expected?)

His eyes flicker, and his lips part, but the syllables die on his lips— from where he is, he can see that Alhaitham isn't even partially hard— and he wonders for a moment if he's done something wrong, if somehow despite everything the other doesn't want him—

But then the linguist is talking and soothing him, a gentle tenderness in his soothing tone that Kaveh understands is genuine, and his eyes widen even as yet more tears swarm to fill them. He nods, and bites his lip, shifting to get more comfortable on the other's lap. ]

Okay.

[ His voice is a whisper. ]

[Gently, he strokes those strands of gold, watching quietly how they reflect the lights that turn on with the timer—it's sunset, the hue of the lighting in the room is set up to something warm. Alhaitham sighs, and it's a sigh of calm. Peace of mind is something that he considers so precious, and he's happy to share it with Kaveh as well.

After a while, if Kaveh doesn't stir too much and doesn't speak, he picks up a book from the side table and opens it with one hand, reading quietly. Sasa rests close to Kaveh, like a guardian.]

[ He doesn't mean to fall asleep. But Alhaitham's hand is so gentle, stroking through his hair like this, and with the light changing quality to something dimmer and somehow more intimate, it's easy for his tired, aching eyes to droop shut.

When they open again, it's dimmer still, and he blinks as he stirs, turning slightly on the other's lap to look up at him. Sasa is still close, undisturbed during his sleep. ]

Hey... How, uh.. how long was I out?

[Alhaitham glances at his watch—a classic, understated piece that clicks softly with each passing second. He’s aware of the warmth where Kaveh’s head rests against his thigh, a tangible reminder of the trust and vulnerability shared between them in this quiet moment.]

Not long, about an hour. [He responds softly, a small, almost imperceptible smile touching the corners of his mouth as he adds teasingly,] Long enough for you to drool a little on my thigh, though.

[His gaze drops to Kaveh's face, peaceful in sleep just moments ago. The sight tugs unexpectedly at something within Alhaitham—a flutter, a somersault of his heart that he hadn't anticipated. He wonders if he's the only one to find it so comforting and as equally profound.]

...Oh, my god.

[ Kaveh's cheeks turn pink as he sits up abruptly, looking down at the spot where he was resting... and then shooting Alhaitham a wordless Look, one that seems to say "fuck you, I did not".

And then he settles down again, resting his head right in the same spot. ]

An hour isn't too bad. I guess it's still kind of early, huh.

[ For a moment, he even entertains telling Alhaitham more, explaining why exactly he had such a horrific breakdown over something that might otherwise seem so small.

But then his eyes fall on his phone, and he remembers.

Euler. They planned to chat tonight.

Abruptly, he sits up once more, and then moves to stand up. ]

Oh. Oh gods. I have to get ready. I have a date, I haven't even thought about it. Sorry.

[ But he pauses once he's standing, turns back to Alhaitham and leans, pressing a small kiss against one cheek. ]

Thank you, Alhaitham. For Sasa, and.. and for everything.

Anytime, [Alhaitham responds, his voice carrying a gentle warmth as he nods, though his ears flush slightly red from the unexpected but not unpleasant contact.]

Good luck. [Kaveh's mention of a date with Euler, his own alter ego, swirls complexities that Alhaitham chooses not to unravel at the moment. Instead, he focuses on the practicality and necessity of maintaining their separate façades.

He watches Kaveh begin to gather himself, picking up his own phone, tapping through it with feigned absorption. After a brief pause, he stands, subtly stretching.]

I’ll be in my study if you need anything, [he states, offering Kaveh a quiet avenue for further interaction if needed tonight, if anything happened. His tone remains even, betraying none of the inner conflict or the surrealness of encouraging Kaveh to prepare for a 'date' with himself.

He walks towards his study, the soft sound of his steps fading into the distance. As he closes the door behind him, Alhaitham allows himself a moment to reflect on the intricacies of their situation, the emotional depths they've navigated this evening, and the upcoming interaction as Euler. He takes a deep breath, and after a moment, logs on.]

[ It doesn't take him much time to get back to his room. He does, however, take a little longer to log on. Late by a few minutes as he is, he sends Euler a quick text: running late, there in a few before he sits down on his bed and looks at the unpacked clutter of his new room.

It's okay. He's okay.

His eyes travel to the keychain still held in his hand, and he's silent for a moment, considering it, its nickname forming briefly on his lips. Sasa. Alhaitham's words echo in his head, a reminder that he's nearby if Kaveh needs anything. A gentle voice telling him to relax and not following through with what Kaveh thought for sure would be next.

He supposes, he thinks, he really did misjudge him. As frustrating as he can be...

Mm, but right now he has a date. He puts Sasa on his bedside table to affix to his keys after, dips into his bathroom to splash his face and put on his mask. He's nowhere near as dressed up as he'd like, but he doesn't really have time for that either. And so when he sits down in fron of the computer and logs into the chat, he keeps his camera off for a few moments as he types. ]

Sry I'm a little late
I'm gonna put on my camera in a minute
but i just want u 2 kno 1st not 2 worry
I kinda look like a fucking mess
Had a bad day
I'll tell u abt it in voice
but my roommate helped me calm down

[ He sends his message, and chews on his nail for a moment before reaching out to turn on the camera: tired, bloodshot eyes under the mask and casual home shirt and all. ]

Hi, Euler.

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