This is one of the first things Alhaitham learns about him, back at the Akademiya when people talk of the light of Kshahrewar with hushed whispers and admiring eyes. He is a genius, they say, the kind that is born once in a thousand years.
They speak of him and his accomplishments as though he is someone larger than life, and perhaps that is why Alhaitham does not immediately associate him with the blond boy holding a struggling cat in one of the Akademiya's numerous courtyards.
My hc for dark!Alhaitham is that he bottles up all of his feelings — his monstrous, writhing love, the twisted jealousy when Kaveh looks at other people, 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 at other people; the desire to devour him whole — behind a implacable mask, until they boil over.
And what makes him so frightening is his unpredictability. It's not that he has mood swings, not exactly. But you never know what he's thinking — he can be normal one second and then say the most terrifying things in the next, all with his usual placid expression.
Thinking of Alhaitham coming home from work and seeing Kaveh dozing off on their sofa...a few sheets of blueprints lie scattered across his lap — he must have been studying them before he fell asleep.
In slumber, Kaveh's expression is peaceful, free of the worry that
occasionally knots his brows — more frequent now, given his recent projects. Alhaitham has thought of advising him to drop a few, but he knows better than anyone what Kaveh would say to that.
Passion, Kaveh would call it.
More like stubbornness.
"You should pet it," Childe encourages, blue eyes gleaming. "Cats always like pets."
Zhongli hesitates.
"...I am unsure as to how."
"No way," Childe exclaims, like the very thought horrifies him. "You've lived for six thousand years and you've never pet a cat before? Just reach out your hand! If it wants, it'll come to you."
So Zhongli does, crouching down and slowly extending his palm towards the cat.
