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The mechanical whirr of a contraption unlocking; a flash of ruby light. A curse placed upon Kaveh, rendering him unable to produce language… and Alhaitham is not fucking helping.
“You wish The Chronicles of Dinn had ended differently,” Alhaitham says lightly, deliberately misinterpreting Kaveh’s pantomiming. “You and I both.”
Kaveh slams The Chronicles of Dinn down and lets out a sharp exhale. Fucking Alhaitham; obviously he’s not talking about this specific book. Kaveh gestures at the other books on Alhaitham’s shelves.
“You want to know if I’ve had the chance to check out the House of Daena again for any new books,” Alhaitham says, in a tone that confirms he knew what Kaveh was asking from the start.
Oh, how Kaveh wishes he could curse Alhaitham out and tell him to stop fucking with him. But all his words have been stolen away.
“I have. I—” Alhaitham is cut off by a harsh cough. Something comes up, which he swallows down. A disgusted shudder ripples through Kaveh. He’s had this cough for nearly a week, now, and he’s looking a bit worse for wear.
Kaveh gives him a look, tilts his head.
“I’m fine,” Alhaitham croaks. “Anyway, I went back and found a few more long shots. I’m going to meet with Cyno, too, to see if he has any contacts from Spantamad familiar with curses.”
Kaveh points at Alhaitham, then mimes sleeping against a pillow.
Alhaitham’s lips quirk up. “You worried about me?”
Kaveh shakes his head.
“Good,” Alhaitham says. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”
Alhaitham coughs again, wetly. Kaveh winces.
Hopefully he gets better soon.
#
Alhaitham is sick.
His complexion is pallid; he’s feverish and gets dizzy spells. He coughs and coughs and coughs, a wretched, wet sound.
Kaveh pulls out his notebook and draws a sketch of Bimarstan, with a little Alhaitham at the door.
Alhaitham just shakes his head and refuses to get checked out.
Kaveh draws a little Kaveh beside the little Alhaitham.
Alhaitham’s lips quirk up. “No, you don’t need to come with me. I already know what’s wrong with me. Just… give me a little time, okay?”
Kaveh glares at him, folding his arms petulantly.
Alhaitham smiles. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Kaveh looks away.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Alhaitham promises.
#
Alhaitham can’t breathe.
He’s in a coughing fit, on the divan, and it just won’t stop. His lips are a startling shade of purple.
Kaveh comes over, hovering uselessly.
Alhaitham shakes his head. “Kaveh— don’t—”
Kaveh ignores him, and stays, rubbing his back in what he hopes is a soothing manner.
Alhaitham chokes and coughs into his hand. He coughs, and he coughs, until eventually, something pink and red flutters into his hand.
Alhaitham scrambles to snatch them up, but Kaveh saw: they were petals.
Hanahaki disease. A common trope in stories and plays: coughing up flowers due to unrequited love. It’s rare in reality, but it exists.
And for Alhaitham of all people… whom is he sick for? And what can Kaveh do to fix this?
As Alhaitham gasps for air, Kaveh grabs his notebook and a marker and starts drawing.
By the time Kaveh his finished his sketch, Alhaitham’s face has regained some of its colour.
Kaveh shows him a crude cartoon of Cyno, with sparkles around him.
Alhaitham laughs. “No, it’s not Cyno.”
Kaveh flips the page and tries again.
He goes through Tighnari, Dehya, and Nilou, all of whom Alhaitham denies being in love with.
“Come on, Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “It’s obvious if you just think about it. There’s only one person it could be.”
Kaveh frowns.
“For the Light of Kshahrewar, you really are quite dense,” Alhaitham teases.
Kaveh gives him the finger.
“If you can’t come up with the answer, that’s on you,” Alhaitham says. And with that, he gets up off of the divan, and goes to his room.
Kaveh slams his fists on the table. How can Alhaitham be so flippant about this? If his feelings aren’t returned, he’ll die.
The way Alhaitham speaks, the teasing in his tone… It’s almost as if… but it couldn’t be. If it were Kaveh, his love wouldn’t be unrequited, and Alhaitham would never have gotten sick in the first place.
Kaveh pounds his fists against Alhaitham’s coffee table once more. Fuck him.
Alhaitham’s door creaks open. “That’s coming out of your rent if you break it.”
Kaveh rolls his eyes. As if he would break it; as if he wouldn’t fix it if he did.
Alhaitham joins him in living area once more. “I forgot to tell you. Lisa, Cyno’s upperclassman, is knowledgeable about curses, and she knows of a cure for curse-induced aphasia. She sent me a list of ingredients and instructions for a potion. I’ve asked some friends to help out.”
Kaveh blinks at him.
“I know it’s hard for you, not being able to speak or write,” Alhaitham says. “We’ll fix it, though.”
Kaveh points at Alhaitham.
“…Focus on yourself for now,” Alhaitham says. As if Kaveh could, with the way Alhaitham’s voice scrapes against his throat.
Kaveh sweeps Alhaitham’s bangs back and feels his forehead. His skin is warm, too warm.
Alhaitham looks up at him. “I… I’m kind of tired. I’m gonna go to bed,” he says, even though the sun hasn’t yet set. “Don’t stay up too late.”
Alhaitham leaves again, and Kaveh is left alone.
A tear splashes down Kaveh’s face, then another, before he wipes them away. Crying won’t solve anything. First things first, he has to figure out whom Alhaitham is sick for. Then… Well, he’ll deal with that when he gets there. He just has to take it one step at a time.
#
Kaveh’s been stuck at home for three weeks, now. He can’t work, and while he could theoretically leave, the one time he did he got all sorts of odd stares and questions. When he’d patted his throat, pretending he’d had laryngitis, someone had given him a notepad and pen to write things down—which he couldn’t, and it had been thoroughly humiliating.
Even though Alhaitham’s sick, he’s still going into work. Kaveh can only hope he’s not trying to compensate for Kaveh being unable to earn any money.
Kaveh’s been extra vigilant about tidying up around the house, but he doesn’t usually go into Alhaitham’s room.
Today, though, a cloying stench permeates through the doorway, like something rotting.
Kaveh is all too aware what it is. He pushes open Alhaitham’s door to find handfuls of red and pink petals in and around the wastebasket. But now that Kaveh has a chance to actually look at them, he recognizes the elegant curve of the petals: these are from mourning flowers. Kaveh’s favourite flower.
Kaveh’s head spins.
“It’s obvious if you think about it. There’s only one person it could be.”
Alhaitham, looking after Kaveh, trying to stop him from burning out.
Alhaitham, letting Kaveh live with him for well below market rent.
Alhaitham, looking at Kaveh like there’s no one else in the world.
But… it doesn’t make sense, because that would mean Alhaitham believes Kaveh doesn’t love him back. Does Alhaitham really think that…?
Kaveh sweeps up the petals and empties the bin.
The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur.
When Alhaitham gets home from work, Kaveh confronts him. He slams the wall beside him.
Alhaitham gazes at him, mild amusement in his tired eyes. “What’s this now?”
Kaveh grabs his marker and notebook and scribbles a mourning flower.
“Hm,” Alhaitham says. “So you’ve figured it out.”
Kaveh points to himself, incredulous.
Alhaitham sighs. “Who else, Kaveh? It could only ever be you. I didn’t want to tell you because you have a bad habit of blaming yourself for everything, but you were going to figure it out sooner or later.”
Kaveh reaches for Alhaitham and tries to kiss him, but Alhaitham pulls away.
Kaveh,” Alhaitham says. “I know that bleeding heart of yours wants to save me because I’m dying, but that’s not how this works. You can’t just force yourself to fall in love with someone.”
Kaveh shakes his head vigorously. Listen to me, he wants to scream. I love you, and I need you, and you can’t leave me, don’t leave me—
Alhaitham gives him a slight smile. “It’s going to be okay, Kaveh. You’ll be okay. We’ll get you that cure, and…”
Like that’s what he cares about right now? Kaveh punches Alhaitham in the solar plexus—not hard enough to harm, but enough to stun him and elicit a surprised grunt. Angry tears spill down Kaveh’s cheeks.
Desperately, Kaveh brings his hand to cup Alhaitham’s cheek. He leans in again, slower this time.
“Kaveh,” Alhaitham warns. “I already told you—”
Taking shuddering gasps of air, Kaveh presses his forehead to Alhaitham’s. What’s he supposed to do? Tears splash onto Alhaitham’s face.
“I’m sorry, Kaveh,” Alhaitham says, quietly. He wipes the tears from Kaveh’s cheeks.
It’s not enough.
#
This past week, they’ve had multiple visitors. Cyno, Tighnari, Collei, Dehya, Candace, and Nilou have all been by to drop off various ingredients. None of them questioned why Kaveh didn’t speak—Alhaitham must have explained what the potion ingredients were for.
They also must have seen earlier the state Alhaitham was in, because in addition to flowers and powders and the like, they bring warm meals, easy on the stomach.
It’s nice that Alhaitham has such caring friends, though it does make Kaveh wonder if he’s not doing a good enough job of taking care of Alhaitham. Sure he does what he can with the ingredients Alhaitham brings home, but…
A squeeze, at his shoulder. “If you’re feeling anything along the lines of guilt, it’s misplaced,” Alhaitham says. “They wanted to help out. You’re doing just fine.”
Kaveh points to the delicious-smelling koshari dish Candace dropped off, far better than he could ever hope to make.
“It’s… nice to have friends,” Alhaitham says. The words sound strange from his mouth, but Kaveh has to admit it’s nice to hear. He’s matured since they first met.
Kaveh brushes his hand against Alhaitham’s, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
#
I love you, Kaveh thinks to himself. I love you.
How can he say those three little words with a picture?
Crumpled sketches clutter Kaveh’s desk. They range from subtle to very much not; they’re all a little embarrassing.
He’s partway through a new sketch, when he hears familiar, horrible coughing.
When it doesn’t stop, Kaveh gets up and finds Alhaitham in the foyer, leaning against the wall for support.
“Hey,” Alhaitham gasps between coughs. Petals and splatters of blood lie at his feet. His complexion is ghastly pale. “I’ll clean up. Just… give me a minute.”
Kaveh shakes his head, and points at himself. He’ll do it. He points at the divan and offers his arm.
“Thanks,” Alhaitham says, wearily, taking Kaveh’s arm and letting him lead him to sit down.
Alhaitham coughs as they walk, leaving a trail of bloody mourning flower petals across the floor.
“So damn messy,” Alhaitham chokes out.
Kaveh sweeps Alhaitham’s bangs out of his face.
“Kaveh…?”
Kaveh plants a soft kiss on his too-warm cheek, but Alhaitham’s eyes are sad when he looks at him.
“I don’t want your pity,” he whispers.
Kaveh shakes his head as his vision blurs. It’s not pity. I love you so much it hurts, but all I do is hurt you more.
Kaveh brings Alhaitham to the divan and helps him to lie down. He watches him, longingly, as he falls asleep, and doesn’t kiss him again.
#
All the ingredients are gathered. Alhaitham doesn’t own the proper equipment for brewing potions, though, so he send Kaveh with a note to Tighnari, asking him to finish the potion for Kaveh.
“Is Alhaitham still sick?” Tighnari asks.
Kaveh nods and pulls out his pocket notebook. He draws Alhaitham coughing up his favourite flower.
Tighnari grimaces. “Hanahaki… and are those mourning flowers?”
Kaveh grits his teeth and nods, tears welling in his eyes.
“Oh, Kaveh…” Tighnari pats him on the shoulder. “Just to get a better picture… do you love him back?”
Kaveh sniffs and nods.
“So he just doesn’t believe you,” Tighnari says. “Well, once we get this potion made, you’ll be able to tell him exactly how you feel. Sound good?”
Kaveh nods and wipes his tears with his sleeve.
“I’ll meet you back at your place. I’m going to fetch Collei to help me,” Tighnari says.
Kaveh nods again, and heads back home.
Soon, soon, he’ll be able to tell Alhaitham how much he loves him.
It doesn’t need to be poetic; he just needs to speak from the heart.
But where to even start…?
#
When Kaveh gets home, something is wrong.
The scent of blood and rotten flora permeates the air.
The door to Alhaitham’s room is open.
Alhaitham?
Kaveh races inside. He finds Alhaitham passed out on the floor in a puddle of blood and whole flowers. He’s barely breathing; his lips are blue.
Kaveh tucks a flower in his pocket, ignoring the blood seeping through. Then he lifts Alhaitham in his arms and carries him to the Bimarstan.
He wants to wipe away the blood soaking Alhaitham’s face, but there’s no time. He runs to the hospital as fast as his lungs will take him.
His heart is pounding when he gets there; his arms are sore from lifting him. Still, there’s no time to lose. When he arrives at the building, a student—probably from Amurta—is there to check him in.
It goes about as well as expected. The student asks for Alhaitham’s name, which Kaveh can’t give him. The student asks again, louder and slower. Kaveh groans. He does a quick sketch in his notebook of Alhaitham with a quill and parchment, scribing. The student is only more confused. Kaveh’s fists clench.
Thankfully, after a few minutes, a triage nurse steps in and asks what’s happened. Kaveh pulls out the bloody flower from his pocket to show the nurse.
The nurse doesn’t press Kaveh for further details. Instead, they transfer Alhaitham to a stretcher and have Kaveh help bring him to an empty room. They transfer him to the bed, and the nurse hooks Alhaitham up to an oxygen machine.
The nurse shows Kaveh the emergency bell, just in case, but Alhaitham is stabilized for now. Kaveh bows his head and clasps his hands together in thanks before they leave.
Now there’s nothing to do but wait.
Kaveh watches the laboured rise and fall of Alhaitham’s chest.
He strokes Alhaitham’s hair in between drawing in his notebook.
As minutes turn to hours, Alhaitham’s breathing slowly evens out, becomes quieter. The pallor in his face lessens to just a shade shy of normal.
When Alhaitham finally comes to, Kaveh is stroking his cheek.
With a clumsy hand, Alhaitham takes off the mask. “Kaveh…?” he rasps.
Kaveh frowns and gestures to the mask.
“I’m okay,” Alhaitham assures him.
Slowly, Kaveh leans in, and places a chaste kiss on Alhaitham’s forehead.
Alhaitham’s attention, though, is elsewhere: he’s looking at Kaveh’s open sketchbook. “Can I see?” he asks.
Kaveh nods, passing it to him.
Like the ones before, this latest sketch is of him and Alhaitham, though it’s not quite finished. They’re looking at each other with tender expressions, Kaveh’s hand on Alhaitham’s cheek. Kaveh can’t help but blush.
“Oh,” Alhaitham whispers. “Kaveh, do you…? Was I… wrong?”
Tears spill from the corners of Kaveh’s eyes as he nods, vigorously.
“I… I’m sorry,” Alhaitham says.
Kaveh slides his hand to Alhaitham’s cheek, then down to his chin. He tips his face up, and kisses him with everything he has.
Kaveh’s lips are searching and insistent. Alhaitham opens up; there’s no resistance this time. Rotting flora and iron linger on his lips, but Kaveh doesn’t shy away.
Alhaitham pulls away first as he starts coughing. He coughs up flowers and blood, followed by long, stringy roots, glossy and sticky.
Kaveh has to catch Alhaitham when he slumps forward, spent. He eases him back to the bed, listening as his breaths start to even out as he falls asleep again.
#
Tighnari and Collei come find them at Bimarstan.
“We saw the big mess of, uh, blood and flowers, and so we figured you’d be here,” Collei explains.
“I thought we should prioritize the potion, but it looks like you didn’t need it after all,” Tighnari says, eyeing the roots that have been swept into the emesis bin. In his hands is a pretty glass bottle filled with a pale purple liquid.
Kaveh makes grabby hands at the potion.
“Go on then,” Tighnari says, uncorking the bottle and passing it to Kaveh.
It’s slightly bitter, but it tastes mostly like valberries. As Kaveh drinks, he can feel… something happening in his brain. It’s like a shipwreck in reverse; a collection being restored. Things are being put away where they belong in his brain, back where he can find them.
Kaveh finishes the last drop. Carefully, he says… “Hi.”
“Oh, it worked!” Collei says.
“I think so,” Kaveh says. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Kaveh…?” Alhaitham croaks, stirring at the sound of his voice. His eyelids flutter open.
“Hey,” Kaveh says, gently.
Alhaitham looks between Collei and Tighnari. “You did it. Thank you.”
“Are you okay?” Collei asks.
“Just a little tired,” Alhaitham says. “I’ll be fine, not to worry.”
“Um,” Kaveh says, tearing his gaze away from Alhaitham to look at Tighnari and Collei. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful—”
“We were just leaving,” Tighnari says, putting his hand on Collei’s shoulder and escorting her out of the room.
The room is silent.
“So,” Kaveh says, smoothing his hair with his hand.
“So,” Alhaitham echoes.
Kaveh glances at the discarded flowers and roots. He doesn’t quite meet Alhaitham’s eyes. “So… I think you know, but I want to be absolutely clear, and say it in words. I’m… in love with you.”
Alhaitham’s lips quirk up. “I know, Kaveh.”
“Do you?” Kaveh asks. “Because you didn’t seem to think so earlier.”
“I make mistakes,” Alhaitham says. “But I learn. And I trust you. So if you say you love me, then I’ll believe you.”
Kaveh swallows and nods. “…Okay.”
“Come closer,” Alhaitham whispers.
Kaveh does as he’s old, leaning in until he can smell the iron on Alhaitham’s breath. He presses a soft kiss to Alhaitham’s chapped lips.
Alhaitham kisses back, but his strength quickly wanes.
“Rest,,” Kaveh says. “You’ll have your strength back soon, and I’ll still be here.”
A smile plays on Alhaitham’s lips. “Yeah. I know.”
Kaveh sweeps his fingers through Alhaitham’s bangs, takes his hand, and waits for him to fall asleep.
Alhaitham’s breaths are steady. He’s going to be fine. Kaveh steals one more kiss, and waits.