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There is such a thing as being socially inept. There is a point in which being so feels more like a 'fuck you' to the art of conversation than it does a simple personal quirk.
They're both far past the former.
Hell, Tighnari would say that they've both managed to surpass the latter as well in their own ways.
He watches the twitches and scowls from across the room and knows there is no hope.
–
Tighnari’s quarters may be enclosed a bit flimsily–there are a vast number of options that are better than a leaf-strung door. He knows it must be an oh-so difficult concept for those living in the suffocating borders of Sumeru city to understand.
Though it is still a house. A structure. One that shall be treated with the same decency of any other building in the whole of Teyvat. When stepping up to the strung up leaf-of-glory that provides him half a semblance of privacy, there should be a bit of courtesy in mind.
Kaveh never knocks at all. Nowhere in his fat wad of a brain can he even fathom the notion of knocking on the wood that frames Tighnari’s leaf-door. The architect simply waltzes in (most of the time in disarray) and begins to run his mouth about any sort of something-or-other.
It used to be infuriating–though not enough to make his head hurt. Maybe good for an ear twitch or two, but Tighnari prides himself on his own patience, and he’s going to live up to the standard he has set for himself.
Now, he just knows:
Collei will send a hesitant call of his name through the door with a couple taps on the wood.
Cyno with rap on the frame with his fist playing out any tune he’s got his mind on.
Nilou will go to Collei first and say: “Hey Collei! Is Tighnari busy?” and Collei will reply with: “I don’t know, let me check.” And then Nilou will be led right to his door with a Collei-fashion knock.
Kaveh will just appear in front of him. There is no warning unless a swirl of grey hair is tailing behind him to dish out a hardly courteous “Knock-Knock.” in a gross monotone as penance for them entering without asking first.
Not that Alhaitham really cares either. When it’s just him–and it hardly ever is–he does knock, but he does not wait for a ‘come in.’ He instead follows up rather abruptly with an entrance to Tighnari’s hut and an immediate explanation as to why he is there.
He digresses–this is really about the ‘Kaveh’ issue, not so much Alhaitham. Because the latter is currently not causing too much of a problem at Tighnari’s dining table. He’s looking a bit blank, a bit bored, a bit tired–nothing new or off putting.
The issue however, is running his mouth so heavily that the fresh brewed tea in front of him is probably ice cold at this point. Icy and untouched.
“A rejection! How are they going to reject funding for the construction of a school?--are they all so heartless? Do they not want children to learn?”
“Could be.” Tighnari says, though he does not believe that. “Did you ask them why it was rejected?”
“Why bother! All the times I’ve asked before the explanations have been worse than I could have imagined! All entirely solvable problems too.”
“It was due to the location. The deep forest is in its rainy season at the moment so the Akademiya didn’t want to fund a project that would potentially collapse in excess mud. That and the fact that there really isn’t anything but ruins out that far.” Alhaitham breaks his silence.
Of course he only does so to correct Kaveh.
It’s like they want Tighnari to snap.
“I am an architect, I have devoted my life to studying buildings, of course I can handle making a structure that can withstand mud!” Kaveh glowered at his roommate as though it was his fault that the proposal got rejected.”
“I’m not the one you need to be saying that to. Complain to the Grand Sage if it bothers you so much. That sort of thing is no longer my problem.”
“And the other point–” Kaveh ignores him. “Thirty-one percent of the students in the Akademiya are adults that have returned to schooling to get a proper high education; twenty percent of those adult students are in some sort of situation where they have to care for a child. You know as well as I that each darshan offers extended research expeditions for months at a time all throughout the nation!”
Alhaitham sips his drink. He doesn’t say anything.
“The school was for them! A way in which the children they cared for could continue schooling while their caregiver could do extensive research! Do you know how many students at the Akademiya have to decline advanced research opportunities because of their personal lives? This would have lowered that amount substantially! I’m sure Tighnari will agree–Vahumana sends researchers into the rainforest for nine months at a time–”
“You need to look at this from an economic standpoint.” Alhaitham finally interrupts. “Provided that eighty percent of Akademiya students are not in the situation you are describing, it would make far more sense to send a different candidate on the expedition than it would to pour out accommodations for the incapable one. Plus, the Akademiya has more important things to monitor and approve than a circumstantial general education-based school. I guarantee it would not be in use most of the time.”
“Is our nation not one of equal opportunity? There should be no researcher who has to decline the discovery of a lifetime just because they can’t bring their reliant family members along with them!”
“Equal opportunity is nothing but a sentiment. It isn’t functional in a world of ‘personal lives’ and ‘business lives.’ That is just a fact.”
Tighnari has not stepped in up to this point, and he really does not intend to do so any time soon. It’s just easier to fester in practiced annoyance than it is to get these scholars to stop arguing over their ideals.
He sees Collei peek her head in from the leaf and slip away again. Surely everyone in the village can hear what’s going on in the poor hut. None of them will bother to try and stop the racket though.
Unfortunately for Tighnari.
–In more ways than one, if he is being honest. The other people in Gandharva rely on him to fix the issues around the village. It is terribly, terribly inconvenient.
He snaps out of his brooding to a truly obnoxious scene.
“Are you–” Kaveh starts. He looks furious, on the verge of growling or clobbering the man.
But he doesn’t
Nor does he finish talking. Instead he just gives Alhaitham a look of disgust.
Firstly, Tighnari relishes in the sudden snippet of silence. He’s sure it isn’t going to last very long. It never does when they are around, after all.
But the sequence of events that follow the cut-off insult and scowl aren’t as ear-bleeding as he originally thought they’d be.
In fact, they aren’t even ear-reaching.
Instead, he watches this:
Alhaitham raises and drops his shoulder ever so slightly.
Kaveh rolls his eyes.
Alhaitham raises an eyebrow.
Kaveh’s nose twitches.
Alhaitham looks a bit upwards.
And Kaveh barely nods.
He doesn’t want to look anymore. It’s a weird scene of two people just twitching at each other. At first he assumes they’re gearing up for a physical altercation–which did surprise him, they never hurt each other no matter how bad the fights get.
But they never threw punches. Tighnari watches the scene with somewhat of an awe as Kaveh’s face slowly fades from furious to mildly annoyed. He sees a small smile on Alhaitham’s lips.
“Whatever, you.” Comes a grumble from Kaveh. He stands up–rather abruptly, in Tighnari’s opinion–and begins a steady trek out the door. “I’m going to get back to work now. Come back home when you’re ready to be competent.”
Alhaitham turns to Tighnari. “He speaks as though I don’t own the place.” He scoffs before following Kaveh out the door.
Tighnari stays at the table, still with some form of immense discomfort.
What the hell was that?
—
Maybe two months later–could be more, could be less; frankly when the topic of conversation lands on Alhaitham and Kaveh, time is more commonly measured in ‘time-since-Kaveh-moved-in’ and has officially reached the standing of: ‘ages and ages.’ So, maybe two months later, maybe a bucket-dumping of fuel to the fire later, the two of them come face to face with a moderately occupied Cyno.
He’s only putzing around in Lambad’s, actually. The focused look on his face is far more likely to be due to the fact that some obscured-by-a-pillar guy is putting his just barely approved hands all over Cyno’s new deck of TCG cards–shuffling them. Not very well, probably–Kaveh might’ve hesitated to go give him a little greeting if he didn’t expect the other occupant of the table to be Tighnari.
But, walking up to the booth with Alhaitham in silent tow, Kaveh finds that is not the case.
Instead, it’s the young man they’ve had a run in or two with in the desert–the cousin. Kaveh has heard through the grapevine that is Tighnari that these two were getting to be a bit closer, though this is the first time he’s seeing it in action outside of a pressing matter.
Alhaitham makes a small grunt of recognition behind him. “It’s Sethos.”
“What?” Kaveh doesn’t bother to look at him.
“His name is Sethos. You had forgotten. Don’t waltz up there unprepared.”
“I remember him.” Kaveh argues.
“But you didn’t remember his name.”
“I meet a lot of people.”
“So do I.” Alhaitham blinks at Cyno’s table–the two occupants still entirely unknowing of their company. “More than you, in fact.”
“Well fine then, what was the name of the woman you had a meeting with six days ago about authorization for a florist’s stall in Port Ormos? Shouldn’t be too hard if you’re so terribly good at remembering names.” Kaveh scoffs at him.
“It isn’t. Her name was Fariba.”
An eyeroll. “Your brain is built like a dictionary.”
“As is yours.”
“Is not.” Kaveh scowls at him.
“It is. A gigantic yet abominably selective dictionary.” Alhaitham pauses for a second, “you remember the name of the book I was reading earlier–”
“Mondstadtian Runes Decoded–”
“And you remember the name of every one of the books we used during our joint project back in school–”
“Yes, despite how the whole thing ended, it was something to be remembered indeed–”
“You can recall quotations you deem meaningful word for word–”
“Again, a good use of one’s memory!”
“And then there is your fatal flaw of forgetting the world the moment your focus spikes even slightly.” Alhaitham finishes.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“That when you enter a situation that you deem needs solving, you throw everything you do not see as even slightly important entirely out the window–weather conditions, purchases, friendly exchanges, names, on occasion–”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Kaveh interrupts, “I remembered his name.”
“It’s Sethos.”
“I know.”
“You know now.”
Kaveh doesn’t stick around for anymore of Alhaitham’s wrongful yammering. Unlike some people, he’s decent and finds pleasure in approaching those he knows for friendly conversation when he runs into them out-and-about–so he decides to do that. Just that.
He does a cheerful stroll up to Cyno’s table and doesn't look back. At some point he's noticed–first by Cyno, then by Sethos, though the latter is the first to extend a greeting.
“Well, if it isn't Sumeru’s finest architect! What brings you here, huh?” Sethos drops the cards in a rather unkempt pile on the table, making Cyno lightly click his teeth.
He didn't include my name in his little greeting. Perhaps I’m not the only one who needs a refresher every now and again. Kaveh thinks to himself–really as a dull attempt to self comfort. “I should be asking you that, Sethos. Sumeru City isn't your usual stomping ground, after all.”
“It sure isn't.” The other agrees, “but Cyno here extended an offer to buy me some good tea and have a little fun so I made the trip. It's nice to catch a little shade every now and again.”
“Kaveh.” Cyno takes the small reference to his own existence as a queue to join in. “Are you getting coffee?”
“To take home.” Kaveh waves a hand in the air, I’ve been busy lately, so the supply is dwindling a lot faster.”
“Hm.” Cyno glances over to the counter, “you know, come to think of it, I ran into you two the last time I came to Puspa as well…it’s sort of giving me deja-brew.”
“Strike three! You really don’t run out of those coffee jokes, do you?” Sethos saves Kaveh from the inevitable awkward silence that would’ve surrounded Cyno’s idiocy. “Anyway, ‘you two?’ Are you with someone, Kaveh?”
For a second Kaveh almost replies with ‘why wouldn’t I be?’ but luckily rules it as an embarrassing turn of phrase before the thing can even leave his mouth. Sethos is still new to his life–he probably doesn’t know about Kaveh’s unfortunate living conditions, as is intended.
“I am.” He decides on, waving towards the counter. “He owes me a favor, and I’m choosing some fresh beans as payment.” An utter lie–Kaveh doesn’t really like those, but in cases involving Alhaitham, they’re often needed.
“Ah! The scribe. You two still living together?”
Hm.
Well, there goes Kaveh’s hope of maintaining his already crumbling secrecy.
More and more people seem to be aware of his predicament everyday. He doesn’t particularly mind when it is friends, such as with this case, but a few days prior to the current encounter a client proposed the same question to him, and it set ablaze a horrible realization within him that he may not be as elusive as he would like to be.
“W-we do.” He bumbles out. “Unfortunately.”
“Unfortunately, huh? I’ve been by your place and it seems pretty nice from the outside. Cozy and all that. What’s so unfortunate?” Sethos twirls one of the cards between his fingers.
“You know where I live?”
“You’re famous, Kaveh.” Cyno interjects, “so is Alhaitham.”
“Ye-yeah I guess,” Kaveh really doesn’t like to call himself the ‘f’ word, no matter how much he does thoroughly enjoy and contribute to the praise of his work, “but–”
“You should see how many random people waltz into Tighnari’s door with some barely notable ailment on the day-to-day. He doesn’t know most of them. It’s not hard for an address to get spread around–especially when the occupants are known like you two are, and like Tighnari is, and like Kusan–”
“I’m not on the same level as the archon of our nation!” Kaveh interrupts, appalled.
“Tell that to Kshahrewar. Surely you know about your cult following amongst the students–”
“Cult following is a little much–”
“As a tortured artist–”
“Tortured!?”
“Hey,” Sethos interrupts them, “I think your scribe is trying to get your attention, Kaveh.” He points over to the counter.
Kaveh already knew that, of course. He can feel Alhaitham’s eyes on the back of his head like he can every time Alhaitham pulls this little move. He knows that and he’s still not going to turn around because there is the pressing matter of the phrase ‘your scribe’ taking up most of his attention–though he probably would’ve ignored the gaze even without that little comment.
“Ignore him. That guy [and he says it purposefully without familiarity] can handle his own problems. Anyway, Cyno don’t act like you–”
“An intense gaze indeed.” Cyno joins Sethos in watching Alhaitham. “He’s completely ignoring the employee’s attempts to converse.”
“Of course he is. Do you remember who you’re talking about?” Kaveh rolls his eyes.
“I don’t know…” Sethos whistles, “seems like something is off.”
“What’s off is that there are grown adults in this nation that can’t make their own basic decisions!” Kaveh scoffs before turning towards the man in question and giving him an annoyed wave of the hand. “God!”
“Shouldn’t you go see what’s wrong?” Sethos asks as Alhaitham does a slow blink in Kaveh’s direction.
“He’s just at a loss because they’re out of the kind we usually buy!” He doesn’t realize he slipped up and said: ‘we’ “But oh well! We still need coffee.”
“Kaveh?” Cyno interrupts.
“What?”
“He’s staring again.”
This time when Kaveh turns back to Alhaitham, the latter gives a slight cock of his head to which Kaveh responds with another wave. It’s short, almost nonexistent, really.
Alhaitham then shrugs one shoulder, a bit more of an emphasized action, and turns back to the counter quickly. It's all a very quick exchange of no words and no decipherable communication, yet Alhaitham makes a move to complete his purchase just moments later.
“Finally.” Kaveh grumbles, turning back to the others. “Anyway, I can't quite remember where we left off but I do want to refute the claim that I am a ‘tortured artist’ because–”
“What just happened?” Sethos interrupts him again, “Sorry, but I’m a little confused.”
“Our Grand Sage just once more had a decision made for him. He couldn’t be bothered to function on his own of course. That’s why we live together if you didn’t know, Sethos–so he can have someone around to do all the hard things while he lays back.”
“But what exactly did you do for him? I mean, seems to me like you just waved him off.” Sethos drops the cards onto the table–the moment they leave his hand Cyno moves to claim them again–probably checking for damage.
Kaveh scoffs–not dismissively, rather in an appalled manner. “Waved him off? Of course I didn’t do that. If I had, we’d be here all day! Don’t tell me you didn’t see me walking him through the entire process, Sethos.”
“That’s what I’m saying alright.”
“Nonsense! They were out of the coffee we normally get, I told him to get the kind that Nilou drinks because every time we get coffee with her he always drains the cup and gets a second! But apparently he doesn’t want that kind–that’s why he kept staring, you know–so I said that he should get the darkest roast, even though it means I’ll have to go to the market later to get cream because he’ll insist the coffee is much too bitter otherwise–”
“Well if he wants the cream won’t he go get it?”
“You’d think!” Kaveh waves his hands dramatically, “but no! He’ll just leave half-empty cups of coffee lying around until we restock again. He’s helpless, really.”
In the midst of Kaveh’s ramble Alhaitham comes up behind him, dark roasted coffee in hand. He stands listening, no sign he has any opinion about anything Kaveh is saying except for the fact that his eyes are trained so intensely it’s almost vulgar on the other man.
“Are you ready to go?” He pipes up, sounding slightly amused, “or would you like to talk about me for a while longer?”
“Talk about you” Kaveh mutters, “shut up about how much you want me to talk about you all the time,” He scowls at Alhaitham, “We’re not leaving until you acknowledge our friends–at least try to pretend they’re not strangers.”
“Cyno. Sethos. See you around.”
“What he means is: Have a good night, you two. We’ll see you around Lambad’s sometime soon, hopefully. We’ll get out of your hair now.” Kaveh turns to face Alhaitham, “Right?”
“Yeah.”
Neither Cyno nor Sethos gets another word in before the two are walking away–Kaveh dishing out annoyed snips all the way past the door and out of earshot.
“Hm,” Sethos murmurs as Cyno lays out a new round of cards, “are they always like that?”
“Oh yes.” Cyno gives a short nod, “without fail.”
—-
“I’m glad some Vahumana scholars are beginning to take note of how intimately their darshan and Kshahrewar intertwine. It’s not typical for many students these days to go to their seniors for assistance, unfortunately, but I’m glad you’re not following that trend. Lesser Lord Kusanali must be right about you.”
Wanderer, in some fashion or another regrettably, stands in the House of Daena with the supposed truest graduate of the Kshahrewar darshan in the last century. It’s not quite busy in the building, and he’s following this scholar around to practically every bookshelf–an act stemming from one simple question.
Kaveh is a somewhat new character to him–they all are, to be fair–but he’s already come up with a simple way to describe the man’s character:
In Wanderer’s most fundamental opinion: somewhat of a prattler, slightly obnoxious
In the opinion he is steadily learning to adapt to that is more applicable to the peer-filled basis of his new life: an extremely passionate and eager individual
Either way, he sought Kaveh out personally with hopes to develop his thesis further by investigating different perspectives. He heard the man was a genius, he heard the man had a unique understanding of linguistics on top of expert knowledge on architecture–both of which are extremely helpful factors to most within the Vahumana darshan, he heard the man hardly ever turned down a request for his assistance.
But no one had bothered to mention to him that Kaveh had a personality that was completely opposite to his own.
“I’ve heard you’re quite vocal in your classes when it comes to challenging existing ideologies–that is an admirable trait to have in the current sphere of education.” Kaveh prattles while pursuing the shelves. “These days there is too much focus on rubrics and not enough on passion. So many talented scholars are having their individual dreams back-logged to make room for monotonous demands made by professors that aren’t giving them the time of day. It’s a failing system.”
“Yeah.” Wanderer gives a short nod–though not too caring. He does agree with Kaveh’s sentiments, but it isn’t a topic that he cares to decipher at the moment.
But the other man doesn’t really bat an eye at the short response–in fact, he almost looks as if such a substance-lacking reply is quite normal. He just goes on speaking. “As I said though, you’re different–and you should be proud of that fact.”
“I don’t care much for the Akademiya.” Wanderer slightly quips. “Definitely not enough to feel an emotion as intense as pride when regarding how I go about my work there.”
“Well you’re out here taking time out of your day to investigate your field further, aren’t you? Surely that involves a little of the passion I was speaking of.” Kaveh’s expression gives the sense that he is humoring someone–though his companion would beg to differ.
“Hardly.” Wanderer looks away, slightly embarrassed, “I’m only developing my argument in order to prove the idiots who contend me wrong. There are plenty of them and they sicken me.”
“I’d say that’s passion. You’re a story, you know–never show up to lectures, yet never miss seminars! It’s said that a lot of the other students in Vahumana are in awe of how much you seem to know and understand despite a history of skipping your actual classes.” Kaveh turns to look at him, “a lot of them look up to you, I’m sure–don’t go off calling them idiots too soon.”
Wanderer glances back to the other man, denial on his tongue, but is cut off in a startle before a single word can come out.
Some man he thinks he’s seen conversing with the Dendro Archon in passing, and maybe that he’s briefly noticed just over half the occasions he’s been inside of the House of Daena, is standing there silent. His hair is a grey mess, padded down by bulky headphones that apparently connect somewhere farther down his green and black attire. The man is just…standing there–walking with them as though he’s always been a part of the crew.
Despite Wanderer’s hardly concealed startle, Kaveh doesn’t acknowledge the new addition at all. He simply keeps walking–still going on about Wanderer’s apparent place within the Vahumana social sphere.
“I know it can sometimes be difficult to accept new people into your life–and I don’t for a second intend to pretend I know how your life has gone or how you view new relations as an individual, but I think a little companionship is good for just about everyone. Your field of study is extremely unique as well, so you’re bound to draw in some interested peers.”
Kaveh stops in front of a rather dusty bookshelf, eyes narrowing in on a specific section as if he knows exactly what title he is looking for and its exact pin-pointed location despite the fact that they’re surrounded by well over a thousand titles. “You’ll find this [he yanks on a thick, dusty tome] especially helpful if you’re looking to better understand humanity as a whole.”
“Uh—thanks.” Wanderer sputters as the massive book is dropped into his hands. The third person in their party watches on, still silent.
“You’re welcome!” Kaveh sounds exceedingly proud of himself, “I know you’re interested in political science and how humans have come to live as they do. Of course, everyone knows that an extremely important chunk of both of those things is philosophy. This right here [he taps on the book] is probably the most helpful book you can find on the topic. It goes into how the cultures and philosophies of each nation in Teyvat exist on their own and how they inevitably combine. An extremely interesting read.”
There’s no way Kaveh hasn’t noticed the looming figure behind him–that’s the only thing Wanderer is really thinking about as the man speaks. There is no way, and yet–
“So you’re welcome! And–” Kaveh starts walking again, “of course language is a massive component of this study. There are plenty of options here, of course, but a good half of my home library is full of books on linguistics and you’re welcome to any of them.”
“My home library…” The mysterious third man finally breaks his silence only to quote Kaveh.
“Oh shut up, Alhaitham. You don’t have to be petty about it.” He turns to Wanderer, “I’ve read a lot of the linguistics books in our library, but they actually belong to him; he’ll be more helpful in that matter.” Kaveh waves to the guy, “ask him for help whenever–I know a lot of people get intimidated because of his stint as the Grand Sage and his face, but all that is nothing. Your glare might rival his, so don’t get unsure.”
Wanderer takes into account the fact that this Alhaitham guy doesn’t bat an eye about what Kaveh is saying–he doesn’t contest being offered to help with Wanderer’s studies, nor does he argue against his apparent visual unfriendliness. He just looks away from Kaveh and studies the book in Wanderer’s arms.
“That title was in our bibliography during a joint research project we did in our school days,” Alhaitham addresses him, “it’s helpful to an extent, but the prose is overly flowery for a nonfiction work.”
“But Kusanali informed me that he’s looking to get more acquainted with Sumeru’s dialect, so he should be seeking out books that include a wide range of vocabulary.” Kaveh notes, looking at Alhaitham. “Another reason you can help him–if you’re not too lazy of course. [Now he goes back to Wanderer] Alhaitham, like most of Haravatat’s leading scholars, is fluent in a wide range of languages so he should be helpful in one’s journey to learn a second tongue.”
“Conversing about that kind of thing takes up unnecessary time.” Alhaitham contends, though he’s apparently addressing Wanderer, “Every language I’ve learned I did so through reading about and in said dialect until I reached the level of fluent comprehension. It would be more helpful for me to recommend you some titles–though since the language you’re attempting to learn is my first, I’ll have to seek a couple out.”
They both look at Wanderer expectantly–the conversation was moving in such a way that he could not tell if he was really being spoken to or not, but the rare gap of hanging silence made him think that he probably was. “Sure.” He grumbles, looking at Alhaitham. “If you really were the Grand Sage at one point, then I suppose I can give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Huh?” Kaveh blurts after a pause–looking almost offended despite the words not even being directed at him. “You mean you haven’t heard of this guy?”
“Just because I’m a student at the Akademiya does not mean I am aware of all those who are affiliated with it.”
“No–I know that but Kusanali didn’t tell you about Alhaitham? This is just like that whole stunt Sethos pulled, calling me ‘esteemed’ and you ‘a scribe.’” Kaveh apparently moves to addressing Alhaitham.
“I told you–you’re much more famous than the likes of a lowly scribe.” Alhaitham smirks at him, “Kaveh built the Palace of Alcazarzaray–were you aware?” He apparently addresses Wanderer.
“Yes? As aware as the rest of this nation.”
“Told you.” Alhaitham says, glancing at Kaveh.
“But-but this means–” Kaveh mutters looking back and forth between the two in front of him, “you know–when I said our library I didn’t mean…well I–”
“Ah,” Alhaitham looks at Wanderer, “Kaveh was under the impression that Kusanali might’ve mentioned Kaveh and I’s current living situation when she first recommended you seek him out. But seeing as you don’t know who I am, I suppose she didn’t.”
“We just…have an overlapping library–borrow a lot of books from one another so it feels like ‘our’ library, you know?” Kaveh gives a nervous laugh.
“What a good first impression–lying to a student right off the bat.” He turns to Wanderer, “do you believe him when he says that?”
Wanderer, developing both in confusion and annoyance, gives a quick shrug. “No.” He ignores Kaveh’s sigh, “but I couldn’t care less either way.”
“See?” Alhaitham says to Kaveh, “you are overly attentive to trying to cover up this aspect of your life despite the fact that most people who do know the truth don’t concern themselves with it.”
“Whatever.” Kaveh grumbles–the quietest Wanderer has heard him be since they met. “I would like to stay here with you longer–preferably after a topic change–but Alhaitham, as you know, decided to show up and start blinking at me so I have to help him with whatever nonsense issue he’s having.”
Wanderer doesn’t recall Alhaitham ever implying that he had an issue, but something about the dynamic between these two makes him feel almost repulsed by the thought of verbalizing that thought and setting off a new wave of…arguing, or whatever it is they’re doing.
Alhaitham gives him one last glance. “Come to our place tomorrow afternoon–we’ll pick out some books for you to borrow.”
“Oh yes, please do.” Kaveh agrees–though he looks mildly embarrassed. “We’ll see you tomorrow, alright? I hope you enjoy this in the meantime!” He taps on the cover of the book in Wanderer’s hands, “see ya!”
The two of them walk side by side towards the exit of the library–Alhaitham speaking quietly about whatever he was looking for Kaveh to help with and Kaveh silently nodding along.
Wanderer stands alone watching their backs as they leave, head still spinning from the chatter.
What the hell is up with those guys?
—-
It’s sometime in between summer and fall when all of their schedules line up for another evening trip to the tavern. Tighnari shows up first, followed by Cyno. Kaveh and Alhaitham show up around ten minutes later–though half sporting a look of upset.
Kaveh has deep purple bags under his eyes, multiple of his usual accessories missing, and an almost ill look on his face–and while Alhaitham seems to be fairing a lot better physically, he is not taking his eyes off the other man for even a moment, obviously attentive to whatever mess Kaveh is feeling.
“Another client working you to the bone?” Tighnari asks after they’ve been seated for a few minutes.
“You could say that.” Kaveh murmurs, preparing to order his first drink.
“Kaveh sacrificed his commission to defend my honor.” Alhaitham explains, quite monotone.
“Did you?” Cyno drops in. “How noble.”
“Art shouldn’t be wasted on those who neglect humanity–that man had an awfully skewed perception of reality.” Kaveh lays his head on the table, “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not rich, if that’s what wealth does to you.”
“I told you from the start he was going to be trouble for you–I recognized his name on your documents.” Alhaitham notes, paying no mind to the fact that Kaveh is leaning far into his table-space.
“Who was it?” Cyno asks, “any Mahamatra affiliations?”
“No.” Alhaitham responds. “He’s no one important–just a wealthy individual who gained a large portion of his money from investing in the experiments carried out by the former sages. He doesn’t have a legacy of his own to speak for. But of course, seeing as I was deeply involved with the overthrow of that hierarchy, he had choice words to say about me–and did so when remembering that Kaveh was affiliated with me.”
“He was a former scholar, can you believe that? It’s devastating how many ignorant people come out of the Akademiya despite its merit.” Kaveh sighs into his arm. “I offered some contentions to his argument–something any scholar should be used to and eager to delve into–and he quickly refused to employ me further. Well, oh well! I was going to quit anyway.”
“I find it hard to believe that your contentions were offered without any bite.” Alhaitham turns to their friends, “he deeply insulted the man. Many times.”
“Oh what would you know? You weren’t even there!” Kaveh shoots up from his position.
“I would know you. Am I wrong?”
[at this point Tighnari and Cyno are looking at each other, tired]
“I said what needed to be said and he couldn’t accept it! Nothing more than that.” Kaveh huffs, turning away from Alhaitham.
“I see.” Alhaitham dons a faint smile, “well either way, I suppose some thanks are in order for your actions defending me today, Kaveh.”
Kaveh’s eyes widen slightly as his face turns from exhausted to an energetic flustered. “Whatever! Like I’d believe you’re actually thankful for anything! Let’s just drink–maybe if you’re really grateful about what happened, you’ll pay for my drinks!”
“I always pay for your drinks.”
“That’s because you like to cut me off!” Kaveh contends.
“One reason.”
“Oh, so there are more? Sure.”
“Just one other.” Alhaitham shrugs.
“Sure, sure.” Kaveh turns to Cyno and Tighnari, “You know what he’s going to say? He’s going to say that the other reason is that he’s in love with me–isn’t that annoying?”
Tighnari promptly chokes on his wine, letting out a string of coughs that last a good ten seconds. “Wait so you know you guys are in love and are still this–Cyno, what would you call them?”
“Weird.” Cyno pulls out his cards, ready to deal out the first game.
“Weird! Even this guy thinks you’re weird!” Tighnari waves in Cyno’s direction.
“Well of course I know he’s in love with me! Haven’t you seen how he’s always blinking at me? And he looks at me like–like that!” Kaveh points to Alhaitham’s face.
The other man is looking at Kaveh, but from their friends’ perspective, he’s utterly deadpan–not looking any different than usual. If Tighnari didn’t know better than to add fuel to the fire, he’d probably say so aloud.
But Alhaitham glances away as though he’s been caught–and maybe his face does change slightly when Kaveh leaves his sight, though only to look slightly more deadpan. Perhaps it makes a difference, but Tighnari can’t really tell all that much.
“Kaveh has had a crush on me since we were in school together.” Alhaitham notes. “A massive one.”
“Oh massive, huh? You drama queen.” Kaveh snorts–though slightly red in the face.
“It’s true–you’re always thinking about me.” He turns to Tighnari and Cyno, “Kaveh keeps staring at the bar to make sure Lambad isn’t putting any lime in my drink because I dislike it. An affectionate notion, He does things like that on the regular; but I think he should trust the bartender’s abilities.”
“Does he now?” Tighnari deadpans, picking up the cards Cyno laid out for him. “Color me surprised.”
“I just don’t want to hear you complain!” Kaveh argues, “and it's not a regular thing.”
“You always glance at my ears to make sure I’ve remembered my headphones before we go anywhere.”
“Well yeah–”
“Your little stint defending my honor today.”
“Okay well that–”
“And if there is enough coffee for you but not enough for both of us, you decline to make any despite the fact that I know you want some.”
“You do that too if it’s your turn to make coffee.” Kaveh argues.
“That goes back to my original point.”
“It does.” Kaveh groans.
“Well,” Tighnari gives a tired laugh, “good to see you two agreeing on something for once.”
“Sure, something like that.” Kaveh grumbles into his sleeve. “I’m going to go pick up our drinks from the bar–Alhaitham, don’t tell them what I said to my client while I’m gone. I know it’s hovering around your mind as some idiotic declaration of love despite the fact that it’s a little late for a declaration, but for me in my professional life, it’s something best kept in the past.”
Kaveh leaves the table as the other three watch him in silence.
A few beats pass before Alhaitham reaches for his provided cards and begins to study them, completely ignoring the fact that Cyno and Tighnari are both intently looking at him.
“So, what’d he say?” Cyno pushes after a few seconds more.
“He essentially told one of the wealthiest men in the city to go fuck himself, and that he wouldn’t know a genius if one punched him in his–direct quote–corpulent face.” Alhaitham recalls without a change in expression.
“Archons,” Tighnari sighs, “well you were right about how much he cares about you, if anything.”
“Hm, I suppose.” Alhaitham gives a short nod. “But I already knew that–he didn’t need to add more career-based stress on himself on my behalf.”
“You’re right.” Tighnari agrees, “Well, we won’t mention it to him–keep the mood light and everything.”
“Oh, he’ll know I told you.” Alhaitham notes, still deadpan.
“He…will? Even if we don’t say anything?” Cyno raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah.”
“How?” Tighnari exclaims.
“Not sure. He’ll probably cite my blinking as the giveaway–that’s what he usually does.”
Before Tighnari can reply, four drinks clink down on the table roughly. A little bit of wine sloshes about as Kaveh’s hands quickly move from presenting the drinks to an exaggerated wave of apparent annoyance.
“Alhaitham I asked you not to do one thing!”
Tighnari puts his head in his hands.
This has to be hell.