Work Text:
It took being stuck in the room for twelve hours before Kaveh realized that it was slowly killing him.
At that time, Kaveh had already scoured the room from top to bottom. Approximately three by three by three meters in size, the room seemed to have been carved out of a single piece of stone that, despite what should have undergone hundreds of years of erosion, remained perfectly uncracked.
Kaveh had fallen from the ceiling, but no matter how hard he peered upwards, he could not find a single opening there either. There seemed to be some ancient runes along one wall, but nothing Kaveh could figure out. In fact, they looked like they had been scratched over and vandalized on purpose.
As the hours passed, Kaveh grew frustrated. He had tried yelling, climbing, and prodding at every uneven bit in the stone walls. When he got desperate, he started whacking with his claymore. When that did not work, Kaveh resorted to nervous pacing. Maybe it would unlock after a certain amount of time.
He kept Mehrak floating beside him to display the time. Its occasional chirps and beeps helped keep him sane. See, Kaveh hated being alone.
His torch was also burning low now, making his anxiety rise. He felt that it was getting a bit harder to breathe.
He felt a little hysterical when it suddenly hit him, twelve hours into his predicament.
A completely sealed room. A limited amount of air inside. It was a trap designed to slowly suffocate its victims inside. When Kaveh realized this, he stared at the torch in his hands. It took a lot of willpower to snuff it out, plunging himself into the darkness.
Mehrak’s green glow was his own source of light now.
Kaveh slowly felt along the walls until he reached a corner. Then, he slowly slid down and sat there.
He tried to keep his breaths shallow and just think.
“Mehrak,” Kaveh said after an hour of sitting in silence. “Could you please connect to 2.0 please?”
Mehrak chirped pleasantly, and the light around it pulsed gently.
Kaveh held his breath as he waited and waited and waited. A minute passed, and Kaveh’s shoulders slumped.
No one had answered.
Mehrak 2.0 (a proper name still in progress) was a recent addition that Kaveh had come up with. It was a stationary addition to the original Mehrak that was situated in the living room of his and Alhaitham’s house.
It essentially allowed Mehrak to connect to it across most distances, including transmitting sound. Kaveh had been working on getting it to also transmit image projections, but other projects had pushed that one onto the back burner.
Kaveh cursed silently to himself. Calling Alhaitham had been a last resort, especially since they had had another explosive argument before Kaveh had left for this trip. It had only been a couple of days, so Kaveh was not ready to talk to that infuriating man yet.
It took a whole hour for him to gather up his pride to make that call. And of course, Alhaitham did not answer.
Kaveh wondered what he was doing. Perhaps it was a rare night that Alhaitham had headed out. Maybe he was staying late at the Akademiya. Or, most likely, he was sequestered in his room with his soundproof headphones on even though there was no Kaveh to block out, and he simply did not hear the beeps.
So close, yet so far.
Kaveh closed his eyes and sighed. He would try again later.
He thinks he might have fallen asleep. When he awoke again, Mehrak was displaying that another several hours had passed. Kaveh stood, stretching. His neck and back ached terribly. The tightness in his chest was constant now. The already stale air was depleting way quicker than Kaveh expected.
“Mehrak, could you connect to 2.0 again?” Kaveh’s own voice startles him, echoing slightly in the empty room.
It distorts and bounces, reminding Kaveh of just how alone he was.
He hated being alone. Hated it so much.
Mehrak attempts to connect, but eventually the pulsing light stops, signaling that the call failed to go through once again.
Kaveh could feel something prickling the back of his eyes. He… was going to die here.
But he did not want to die. He was not ready. There was still so much he has not done, has not said.
Kaveh thought about his work. Sure, the Palace of Alcazarzaray was known as his magnum opus, but it was also one of his first major projects post-graduation. If the Palace was the peak of his career, did that mean that he was destined to decline from there?
No, Kaveh had always believed that he had more potential than that. He could do better, be greater. It was why he tried not to brag about the Palace as his greatest work.
But now, by some cruel twist of fate, it seemed that the Palace indeed was going to be his only lasting mark upon the world. Another few hundred years down the line, they would make for pretty ruins.
Kaveh thought about his friends.
He thought about Collei. The young girl had finally warmed up to him enough to get his attention by tugging on his scarf. Kaveh cracked a sad little smile, thinking about a couple weeks back when Collei had shyly showed him her sketchbook and asked for tips on drawing. Tighnari had looked immensely proud when Kaveh said that she had talent.
He thought about Cyno, who was completely different between work and outside of it. Being freelance, Kaveh rarely had run-ins with Work Cyno, the General Mahamatra. He thought about the terrible jokes Cyno always had in endless stores. Cyno had once pulled him aside after dinner one night and happily told him that Collei started giving him a carbon copy of Tighnari’s unamused stare instead of an awkward little chuckle like she used to. It showed that she was comfortable with him.
He thought about Tighnari, who invited him over to dinner once a week despite knowing that all Kaveh was going to do was complain about his roommate situation. Tighnari always gave the best advice, even if it was delivered in the most ruthless words possible. He believed in the no-nonsense method of delivery for medicine and advice. Kaveh appreciated him very much, but he wondered if he had been as good a friend to Tighnari in return.
Kaveh felt a tightness in his chest, on top of the one caused by the difficulties breathing.
Kaveh wondered how they would take the news. He could already imagine the depressing atmosphere at the dinner table. Kaveh never missed their weekly dinners, so it was bound to be different. Perhaps Cyno would crack some jokes to break the ice. Collei could show a couple of her new drawings and maps. Tighnari would reason that there is not point being hung up over something already lost.
They might be sad for a while, but they will be okay. Because they have each other. Kaveh was not worried about them.
But there was one person Kaveh did worry about.
Day in and day out, this person was a constant presence in his mind, whether positive or negative. Towards this person, Kaveh has felt every single emotion ever, at extreme degrees as well — extreme hatred, extreme admiration, extreme disappointment, extreme pride, extreme anger, extreme love.
Alhaitham.
What would become of him when Kaveh was gone?
As much as their personalities and beliefs clashed, no one in the world understood Alhaitham the way Kaveh did. It took years of suffering for Kaveh to reach that point of understanding, and he knew that any other person would have given up on the emotionless bastard way before that.
Even so, his understanding was not perfect. There was still so much Kaveh did not know, and could not figure out about Alhaitham. Kaveh wanted to know. He wanted to find out more, to dig into the depths of Alhaitham’s guarded heart and pry out all his little secrets.
And in return, Kaveh wanted to offer his own.
The tightness worsened, and Kaveh buried his face into his knees as a little sob escaped him.
Kaveh had known for a while now that he was in love with Alhaitham. But their relationship had always been teetering on the edge of something undefined, and Kaveh was scared to slap a label onto it.
He knew Alhaitham cared. He would bring Kaveh food in those days right before a deadline, and Kaveh would work without eating or sleeping for days at a time. He would put off going through Kaveh’s proposals, but he would never conveniently “lose” them like he did with some others, forcing them to resubmit.
He would go pick Kaveh up from the tavern whenever he was drunk off his ass. Kaveh was an emotional drunk. With him, it was always the highest of highs or the lowest of lows. On the low nights, Kaveh would be an incoherent crying mess, regretting every little thing he had ever done. Alhaitham never made fun of him for it. He would just tuck Kaveh into bed, leave a glass of water and some painkillers at his bedside, and tell Kaveh that hopefully he will learn his lesson next time and not drink so much.
And Kaveh would sniffle into his pillow and turn his head halfway, glancing at Alhaitham with one teary eye.
“Would you stay with me until I fall asleep?”
Alhaitham never said yes. He never stayed. He would just sigh and look at Kaveh with exasperation.
“Kaveh, I’ll be right next door. I’ll keep your door open?”
Keeping the door open let the hallway light stream in, chasing away the darkness. Keeping the door open meant Kaveh could hear Alhaitham getting ready for bed and his quiet snores when he eventually fell asleep.
“Okay…”
So Kaveh was pretty sure Alhaitham did not love him, at least not in the way that Kaveh wanted him to. If anything, Alhaitham thought of Kaveh as an annoying little sibling he was stuck raising on his own.
Even so, when Kaveh was gone, Alhaitham would be alone again.
He had been alone for so long, for so much of his life, that he had built his entire personality around surviving alone. Kaveh once drunkenly told him that he was wrong and that he would prove Alhaitham wrong; life is meant to be lived with people you care about by your side and not meant to be a path that you walk in solitude.
And now he was going to prove Alhaitham right instead.
Kaveh cried himself to an uneasy sleep again.
“Mehrak? Could you please connect to 2.0?”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“It’s okay, we’ll try again later. He probably headed to work already.”
“Mehrak? 2.0, please?”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“I think he said he had a meeting tonight. I’ll call back later.”
“Mehrak, call 2.0.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“Maybe… I turned off 2.0’s sound. He’ll just have to see the light to know I’m calling.”
Kaveh was out of time. He could feel it in the way taking a breath made his head spin and his throat burn.
“Mehrak… connect me… to 2.0 please.”
“...”
“...”
“...Hello?”
Kaveh shuddered, relief running through his tense body when he heard Alhaitham’s voice. He sounded so quiet, so far away. Kaveh blinked away his tears.
“Hi…” he croaked out.
Alhaitham huffed. “What is it.”
Kaveh bit his lower lip. He forgot that they had argued only days ago. For Kaveh, it had felt like an eternity ago. After all the emotions he had gone through, and finally confronting the fact that he was in love with Alhaitham and that he did not want to leave him, Kaveh had already forgiven him.
Kaveh did not know where to start. He had so much he wanted to say, but now all the words were stuck in his throat, choking him more than the lack of oxygen was. Nothing was coming out.
“Kaveh, I don’t have time for your pranks. I’m hanging up.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaveh blurted out. “About the fight. About your books.” He felt so dizzy. Kaveh leaned his head against the wall, but kept his eyes open and staring into the darkness. He had to stay awake for as long as he could.
Alhaitham did not say anything for the longest time. Kaveh thought Alhaitham really did hang up. His heart beating loudly in his chest.
“...What do you want?”
“Huh?”
“I said, what do you want? You don’t apologize.” Alhaitham sounded suspicious. Of course the one time he actually meant it, Alhaitham did not believe him. “You want something from me.”
Yes, Kaveh wanted to say. Yes, I do want something from you. I want to be able to spend the rest of my life living in that house together. To see your face, to hear your voice speaking in the same room as me, to look at me again with those intense eyes of yours.
Haitham… what do your eyes look like again?
Kaveh laughed instead. He laughed and laughed, but it sounded like pained wheezing because Kaveh was unable to draw enough hair to continue laughing. But it did not matter because it was Alhaitham. He finally picked up, even though it was way too late to do anything to save Kaveh now.
At least Kaveh got to hear him one last time. Tears sprung up anew in his eyes, and Kaveh did not know whether it was from laughing or the lack of air.
“Kaveh-” Alhaitham growled.
“I- I know-” Kaveh coughed weakly and cleared his throat a few times before speaking more seriously. He tried to keep his voice even, even as he blinked tears down his face. “I know you recently ordered a whole case of dandelion wine from Mondstadt.”
“...You called me to talk about wine?”
Kaveh gave a little laugh. “No… it’s just. I’m feeling grateful, I guess. I never say thank you, and… I felt bad for yelling at you.”
Alhaitham went quiet again. Kaveh could hear the gears in his head turning, so he had to finish up quickly.
He spoke a little louder, feigning confidence. “You just- Don’t be selfish and drink it without me because you’re mad at me, okay? You got it for me, so we have to drink it together, right? You… You have to drink it with me.”
So when I’m gone, don’t drown yourself in all that wine. I won’t let you lose yourself in alcohol alone, like I do. I had you to take care of me, but if I’m gone, who will take care of you? So you have to promise me.
“Ka-”
“Please?”
Alhaitham sighed. “Okay...”
Kaveh rushed on. “And I know you’ve been working hard these past few weeks as well. They have you training the new Sage, so you haven’t been able to get around to your usual duties… I know I said something about you ignoring my proposals, but… don’t take it to heart. You don’t have to approve all the stuff I sent in. I was… just being a little shit.”
Kaveh smiled sadly to himself. It was not like he would be able to use the funding even if the project got approved.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham’s voice had taken on a new edge. A cautious one. He was catching on. “You’re acting really strange. What’s going on? Are you drunk?”
“Am I?” Kaveh asked. He laughed quietly. “Maybe… I’m just feeling lonely out here in the desert. It gets really dark and… sometimes it’s just my own voice. I’m not used to it. Actually, I do feel a bit drunk, haha.”
“Kaveh…” Alhaitham’s voice softened.
He knew Kaveh hated being alone, hated the silence that came with being alone, and hated the darkness that came along with it. He knew, and he would sometimes stay up with Kaveh, sitting and reading while Kaveh worked. Alhaitham had been very good to him when it mattered. It somehow only made Kaveh feel worse.
“Perhaps the General Mahamatra-” Alhaitham offered.
“I don’t want to bother Cyno with keeping me company.” The ‘ I want it to be you’ goes unspoken.
Alhaitham sighed. “When will you be done?”
Kaveh shrugged, even though Alhaitham could not see him. “Not sure. It seems like it’ll be a long time before I can come back.”
Alhaitham scoffed. “You’ve been gone barely five days, and you’re already feeling homesick. You think staying for much longer will be wise?”
I don’t have much of a choice, do I?
“So what, I should just abandon my project?”
“That’s not that I’m saying,” Alhaitham said. “I always tell you to take breaks. You don’t have to finish a project in one go. You could come home for a bit, then go back to working on it when you’re feeling better.”
Feeling better, going home… Neither those were viable options anymore. But Kaveh could not tell him that.
“You’re right,” he said instead.
“I am?” Even Alhaitham seemed surprised that Kaveh agreed so quickly. Usually they would argue about it some more. “So you’re coming back?”
“...I’d like to. Soon.” Kaveh smiled to himself. “The desert isn’t really my cup of tea. I miss the city.”
I miss you. I’m counting on you to eventually bring me home, Alhaitham. Don’t leave me out here to be buried by the sands and wind.
Alhaitham does not say anything for a few seconds. “Then come home.”
“Okay,” Kaveh lied.
“And… call if you need anything in the meantime. I’ll keep an eye on 2.0. You forgot to plug it in, you know.”
Kaveh takes a shuddering breath, the tears running freely down his face now. He felt that he was being slowly crushed, as if his lies of omission were bands around his chest, tightening and tightening to squeeze the truth out of him. But Kaveh refused.
“Okay,” he said again, his voice a bit more strained.
He reached out and grabbed Mehrak out of the air, tucking the briefcase against his chest. He hugged it tightly, squeezing it as if he were trying to send a hug through to Alhaitham.
“Kaveh?”
“I’m fine,” he said, fighting a sniffle. “I’m just so tired, Haitham… I think I should sleep now.”
Alhaitham clicked his tongue. “And then you’ll come home afterwards?”
“Mm,” Kaveh pressed his cheek to Mehrak’s handle. “Good night.”
“Good night, Kaveh. I’ll see you soon. We’ll drink some of that wine then.”
“Mmmhm.” Kaveh slowly lay down on the cold, hard ground, closing his eyes and still holding Mehrak tightly to his chest. He felt very lightheaded. Lying down felt better. “Thanks, Haitham.”
He wanted to say one more thing, the most important thing. But it would definitely notify Alhaitham that something was very wrong. So Kaveh bit it back, swallowed it back down.
He felt Mehrak beep once, signaling that the call was terminated.
“Mehrak…?” Kaveh whispered. He just needed to stay awake for a little longer, just a little bit.
Mehrak gave him a sad little chirp in response.
“Can you record one final message for me?”
“Hey Haitham. I don’t know when you’ll get this message, but I forgot to say something during our last call, hahaha…
“I would have liked to be able to say this in person, but due to extenuating circumstances, I hope you’ll understand.”
There was a long pause in the message here.
“My parents used to say that if you didn’t end a conversation with a loved one by telling them that they’re loved, something bad will happen, and you’ll regret not saying it for the rest of your life. Maybe that’s why I always ‘wear my heart on my sleeve’, as you liked to put it…
“But what I’m saying is that… I love you, Alhaitham. And I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry to burden you with this sudden confession. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me someday.”
Another long, long pause. When he spoke again, his voice was much smaller, fainter, weaker.
“Haitham…? It’s so dark in here already, but somehow it’s getting darker. I’m… kinda scared…”
There was a wet laugh and a sniffle. The labored, shallow breaths became quite apparent in the moments of silence.
“Would you… stay with me until I fall asleep?”
The pause that follows stretched on forever. Finally, the recording cut off with a faint beep, when Mehrak finally ran out of battery.