Thread by @_sweetangle89_

🏛️🌱
#kavetham
After the Interdarshan Championship, Kaveh unpacks.
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When they get home, the house seems emptier than usual. Kaveh doesn't realize why until he opens up his closet, looking for clothes to change into, and sees it's empty.

"Were we robbed!?" he yells.

Mehrak beeps. "Oh, right," Kaveh says. "I packed."

Because, in a fit of emotion, he decided it was a fantastic idea to stuff all his belongings into whatever luggages, containers, and boxes were available to him. Kaveh doesn't generally regret his decisions. He is who he is.

But he regrets this one. He just wants to grab a nice, long shirt to sleep in. And now he can't even remember where he packed it. Argh.

He goes to the kitchen. Oh, good; Alhaitham's still up, making himself his usual cup of nighttime tea. The man sure likes his routine.

If all the timepieces disappear from Teyvat, Kaveh could use Alhaitham as a clock.

"Can I borrow a shirt?" Kaveh asks.

"... Why?" Haitham replies.

"Because!" Kaveh says, refusing to admit he

packed even when victory wasn't guaranteed. But by Haitham's slowly raising eyebrows, he knows anyway.

"That explains all your belongings disappearing from the living room," he says. "And those boxes from the study."

"I was gonna return them!"

"No need, I had no use for them."

A pause. Haitham sets his cup down. He returns a moment later with a big, oversized shirt. For all that he goes out in those tight clothes every day, at home, Haitham likes his clothes loose.

"Do you need to borrow underwear too?" he asks.

"Rnngnnnnrgh NO!" Kaveh yells. He stomps off.

Haitham says, to his retreating back: "I was actually asking the question in earnest."

"Like hell you were!" Kaveh says, and slams the door shut behind him.

The next morning, he starts unpacking.

He... has a lot more things than he realized. By the time he met Alhaitham after he... well, after everything. His belongings had dwindled down to "not much". Now, when he snaps the first luggage open, he sees it's stuffed full.

Rage, apparently, made him work sloppy and fast. Everything's just stuffed inside without a care in the world. Urgh, he needs to iron so many of his clothes... he folds them up for now, putting them away. But that's not the disconcerting bit.

What disconcerts Kaveh is... realizing just how much of a life he's carved out for himself, here in Alhaitham's house.

Here in Alhaitham's home.

Everything he takes out of the luggage has a place. /The Architect's Eye/ goes right next to /The Lost Symbol/. His tools have their

place on the desk, next to Haitham's. (When the other's out of the house, whoever's still in tends to hog the big desk.) His favourite cup has its own space in the kitchen cupboard.

Alhaitham has the day off, because of course he does. Everyone else got a few days after the

Championship; Alhaitham negotiated a whole week of paid leave. He's lounging on the couch, reading the latest book from that terrible historical series he keeps complaining about, not even looking up as Kaveh flits back and forth.

Why is this taking so long?

"Aaargh!" Kaveh suddenly stops in the middle of the living room, planting hands on hips and glaring at Haitham. "Can't you just... help me?"

"Do I look like I have nothing better to do than help you unpack?" Haitham says.

"/Yes!/" Kaveh says.

"..."

And Alhaitham... actually gets up. Slowly, like a big cat, stretching as he does it. But he stands. Walks to Kaveh's room. Kneels next to a half-open box and opens it.

Kaveh stares at him, agape. What? Haitham? Actually doing what Kaveh asked? No way!

Ah. He snaps his fingers.

"Was that book pissing you off?" he asks.

"Extremely," Haitham says. He takes out some of Kaveh's earrings, wanders over to the dresser, and places them inside. He knows exactly which drawer to open, too. Kaveh watches, bemused.

In fact... Alhaitham rarely has to ask where this or that belongs. Kaveh keeps expecting to be interrupted while putting his things away, keeps expecting Haitham to stop and ask, "Where does this go?" But he doesn't. Not really.

He even puts those paintings back up.

"It's crooked," Kaveh says. For some reason, his heart is beating fast.

"It was crooked when you first put it up," Alhaitham says. "I assumed that was your intention."

"What!? No it wasn't!!"

Haitham turns to look at him. His face is as a deadpan as always. And then he turns, picks up one of Kaveh's workbooks, and places it on the desk by the window. Exactly where Kaveh would usually dump it.

Kaveh swallows. He feels like he's... staring at some complex formula that is just on the verge of making sense.

But he's not sure he wants to know the answer. Or even the question.

But his mind goes and goes anyway, because of course it does. How long has he been staying at Alhaitham's house? Not long.

—Long enough for his belongings to have their own space, for them to fill every nook and cranny of the shelves

and cabinets and rooms of this house.
—Long enough for Alhaitham to know exactly where his things go.

—Long enough to start calling it "home".

"... Are you going to just keep standing there?" Haitham asks him.

Kaveh stares at him, wide-eyed. He feels like he needs a drink.

He always feels like he needs a drink, but he actually needs one now. His head is ringing like someone just hit him with a hammer. He places his hand on the wall. The wall he decorated. With paintings Alhaitham hates. ... Paintings that aren't crooked, thank you.

"Alhaitham," he says.

"What?" Haitham says. His brows are slightly furrowed in that way he does when Kaveh is baffling him.

"Um. I might. Have to stay a little longer. In your house," Kaveh says.

And Alhaitham raises and lowers his broad shoulders. "Stay as long as you want,"

he says, completely unbothered. Completely unbothered by the idea of Kaveh invading his house; filling it with his things. With his presence. Completely unbothered by Kaveh.

Kaveh opens his mouth. Closes it. For some reason, he feels as if his heart is flying.

Like all his limbs feel loose, like he's up there in the sky, staring down at his current life with a bird's eye view and finding...

... It isn't so bad, after all, living in Alhaitham's house and calling it "home."

"Alright," he says. And then: "Hey. Seriously. Move that painting a bit to the right, it was /not/ crooked when I first put it up I'm telling you—"

(/fin)