[ kaveh does not know alhaitham. he does not understand the intricacies of his mind palace, does not know his motivations and the driving force behind his every action. but kaveh is learning. kaveh, who knows how to observe, and knows how to analyze; kaveh is slowly coming to paint a bigger picture.
alhaitham does not answer no. alhaitham does not answer him in the way a person who wants nothing to do with someone else would. alhaitham, instead, says words that tell him this: that they will continue to be in each other's lives, that this might happen again, that kaveh's own feelings might come to change. there is no certainty. the boundary between want and need is, after all, impossibly thin. for kaveh, it is a line never to be crossed.
kaveh, after all, never allows himself to want, and the question is answered on its own.
he watches, because that, too, is one of the few things he has. there will be no one who can resist you. alhaitham, who he thought would be the exception, is not. alhaitham, he finds, is at his mercy, like all others who courted him were. alhaitham warns him again, and kaveh thinks, that's not right. what good is there away from a bed intoxicated with alhaitham's scent?
besides. his legs would not take him anywhere, would be victims of his own weakness. instead—
instead, kaveh looks. at alhaitham. at the splashes of red on his person. at the package he holds in hands. kaveh does not ever allow himself to want, but a kaveh poisoned by desire will want the way his mother told him to. ever so egoistically.
he burns, sunburst. kaveh removes his shirt, as though this is the natural order of things. his skin is red, glistering. pristine. untouched. kaveh leans back, and cants his head. ever so naturally. ]
Then come here. [ honey drips down the corners of his mouth. it is poisonous, and kaveh knows it well. ] ... Haitham, please?
no subject
alhaitham does not answer no. alhaitham does not answer him in the way a person who wants nothing to do with someone else would. alhaitham, instead, says words that tell him this: that they will continue to be in each other's lives, that this might happen again, that kaveh's own feelings might come to change. there is no certainty. the boundary between want and need is, after all, impossibly thin. for kaveh, it is a line never to be crossed.
kaveh, after all, never allows himself to want, and the question is answered on its own.
he watches, because that, too, is one of the few things he has. there will be no one who can resist you. alhaitham, who he thought would be the exception, is not. alhaitham, he finds, is at his mercy, like all others who courted him were. alhaitham warns him again, and kaveh thinks, that's not right. what good is there away from a bed intoxicated with alhaitham's scent?
besides. his legs would not take him anywhere, would be victims of his own weakness. instead—
instead, kaveh looks. at alhaitham. at the splashes of red on his person. at the package he holds in hands. kaveh does not ever allow himself to want, but a kaveh poisoned by desire will want the way his mother told him to. ever so egoistically.
he burns, sunburst. kaveh removes his shirt, as though this is the natural order of things. his skin is red, glistering. pristine. untouched. kaveh leans back, and cants his head. ever so naturally. ]
Then come here. [ honey drips down the corners of his mouth. it is poisonous, and kaveh knows it well. ] ... Haitham, please?