[ alhaitham hears kaveh before he scents him. something in the room stirs. it is prudence to still his pen to listen - the shifting and rasping of cloth. the uncoiling of limbs and the slow register of space and time. alhaitham can picture the fall of kaveh's hair, blond curls down the long line of his throat as he returns to lucidity, hands reaching for the inevitable. alhaitham has never lived the life of an omega. there are things that he understands, however, that goes beyond the mere presentation of a gender. one can be a captive without living the trappings of one. one can know violation without ever having been touched.
but he listens, and he gauges, and when the room no longer shudders with the sensation of something wild and unkempt, his pen continues. this does so right up until the footfalls stop outside the bathroom, and the rap of knuckles interrupts the flow of ink.
alhaitham finishes his letter. the bathroom is an enclosed space; the master stonemasons that worked on the structure constructed it to keep in both humidity and scent. kaveh's presence is a physical one, but should the heat continue, the effects on alhaitham will be minimal. the echo of kaveh's voice, however, is telling - there's something terribly lucid in the way of his command, imperious, like a creature hatched from its shell. when the last letter is finished and sealed, alhaitham uncoils from his makeshift workspace, careful not to upset the bandages still-wrapped over the bitewounds of his arms, and pads to the door.
from beyond the doorjamb: kaveh, unkempt, but his shiver is no longer that of a creature of his skin. the green of alhaitham's gaze skims the length of kaveh's body, and then, finally, rests on his face. ]
I see you are finally lucid again, Kaveh. [ is what alhaitham says, plain, and low. ]
no subject
but he listens, and he gauges, and when the room no longer shudders with the sensation of something wild and unkempt, his pen continues. this does so right up until the footfalls stop outside the bathroom, and the rap of knuckles interrupts the flow of ink.
alhaitham finishes his letter. the bathroom is an enclosed space; the master stonemasons that worked on the structure constructed it to keep in both humidity and scent. kaveh's presence is a physical one, but should the heat continue, the effects on alhaitham will be minimal. the echo of kaveh's voice, however, is telling - there's something terribly lucid in the way of his command, imperious, like a creature hatched from its shell. when the last letter is finished and sealed, alhaitham uncoils from his makeshift workspace, careful not to upset the bandages still-wrapped over the bitewounds of his arms, and pads to the door.
from beyond the doorjamb: kaveh, unkempt, but his shiver is no longer that of a creature of his skin. the green of alhaitham's gaze skims the length of kaveh's body, and then, finally, rests on his face. ]
I see you are finally lucid again, Kaveh. [ is what alhaitham says, plain, and low. ]