“To a new friendship!” Kaveh cheered a few beers in, words muddling together and eyes glazing over the younger academic. It was barely a friendship, an odd acquaintanceship built in the routine of academia and shared libraries.
Still, it was something, and Kaveh would drink to it regardless.
In the haze of empty glasses, he saw Alhaitham staring at him with an inscrutable expression, as he swayed to silent music.
No matter. Kaveh wouldn’t mind if Alhaitham was looking at him like he were an idiot or if he had hung the stars themselves. As long as he kept looking.
Nights spent drafting were arduous alone. Kaveh’s eyes would water staring at the same sketch and hours would pass without moving from his seat. Liquor had been a steady companion, enough to pass the time but never pass out.
After a few knuckles-worth through of Snezhnayan firewater past midnight, a new companion sat beside him with a plate of fruit.
“What are you doing here?”
No response from Alhaitham for a long moment until he turned the next page in his book. “You aren’t the only one with work.”
But Kaveh knew the book in hand was no academic tome.
The Palace of Alcazarzaray was done. The cost was far greater than Kaveh had ever imagined. He had given it all for the chance at perfection. He had won the gamble, but the loss subsumed all.
The bartender was fond of his work, pouring glass upon glass ‘on the house’ until Kaveh stumbled in search of a home he no longer owned. So he walked until the morning sun tickled the Akademiya tower.
Worn and sleep-deprived, Alhaitham was there.
Kaveh meant to wave and be polite—he had. But somewhere in the conversation he fell into strong arms, crying unabashedly.
Words did not cut, they poisoned and rotted instead.
Days of wallowing in the Akademiya had led to this argument, Alhaitham declaring him a foolish idiot driven by unreachable and naive ideals. He suggested giving up, as if it were so simple.
Kaveh would never give in. His ideals was who he was as a man, and if it brought him to ruin, so be it.
“Then go ruin yourself somewhere else and don’t drag me into it.”
The door slammed shut and Kaveh drank his way through a bottle of dark liquor silently alone the rest of the night.
Drunkeness was the only salve in returning to Sumeru City. He received each praise for the Palace with a faux warm smile, the hatred of his own facade slicing through his heart. When he was a few glasses in, it became easier to pretend things were truly peaceful.
He did not recall when Alhaitham had come by, or why the conversation had not yet blown into a continuation of their last argument, or how he let slip he had nowhere to stay.
But he did remember eyes surprisingly softening and Alhaitham saying, “You can stay with me for a while.”
“Why am I still here?” Kaveh asked one evening, sitting beside Alhaitham, staring into the warm tea Alhaitham had brewed.
Silence settled between them for a moment before Alhaitham set his book down, “You haven’t paid off your debts.”
“Besides that,” Kaveh huffed, studying the sage’s expression for any sign.
“Because there’s nowhere else you should be.” Should, not could. Kaveh could be anywhere, but Alhaitham was right—this was the only place that felt close to a home.
He settled back down and tilted his head to the side, knocking against Alhaitham’s shoulder as his eyes closed to sleep.