[ the accusations come in spades, and they're as sharp as the edge of a blade. he is the one with sharp fangs, but kaveh finds, here, that alhaitham's words bite until he bleeds. it is the irony of his existence, a man of a species that thrive on feeding on others, but a man who rejects it so.
it comes as it would, in any other world, to any other kaveh: a frown, a pout, a huff. ever so transparent, a book always so easy to read for those who understand his language. it says: ] The rain makes it more bearable. Besides, this is a city. If I lacked so much self-control, I would situate myself in a forest.
[ then, a sigh, and a shake of his head. ] I would rather just not torture myself further by being that close. Why would I put myself through more unnecessary hassle? You should feel grateful that I'm being this considerate, if anything!
[ keywords are spoken, but never addressed. they hang in the air, together with an accusation that holds true: that he is, indeed, without a home. that needs not be known, though the hints are obvious. after all, for what reason would kaveh be out in the rain, if not for his lack of a roof? ]
[ the slow rise of alhaitham's eyebrow says thus: ]
And I suppose that the library behind us would be grateful if you were more considerate, and did not loiter in front of the entrance.
[ what alhaitham omits: that this is his library, that nobody has ever complained, and that kaveh has made his choice. you are the choices that you make. this, alhaitham has known since he had been a child, and his grandmother had pressed her weathered hand in his, and asked - where is it that you would like to learn? the house had been bright, back then. it had steeped with the scent of old books, and the gentle drift of dust.
instead, what alhaitham says is this: ]
Come.
[ he begins to walk.
of course he does - this is the way that cats do it. through the rain bisected by the shape of a colourless umbrella, alhaitham takes the requisite steps that bring him to the end of the street. and then, in the way of all cats, he looks back with the expectant air of a man waiting to be followed. ]
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it comes as it would, in any other world, to any other kaveh: a frown, a pout, a huff. ever so transparent, a book always so easy to read for those who understand his language. it says: ] The rain makes it more bearable. Besides, this is a city. If I lacked so much self-control, I would situate myself in a forest.
[ then, a sigh, and a shake of his head. ] I would rather just not torture myself further by being that close. Why would I put myself through more unnecessary hassle? You should feel grateful that I'm being this considerate, if anything!
[ keywords are spoken, but never addressed. they hang in the air, together with an accusation that holds true: that he is, indeed, without a home. that needs not be known, though the hints are obvious. after all, for what reason would kaveh be out in the rain, if not for his lack of a roof? ]
no subject
And I suppose that the library behind us would be grateful if you were more considerate, and did not loiter in front of the entrance.
[ what alhaitham omits: that this is his library, that nobody has ever complained, and that kaveh has made his choice. you are the choices that you make. this, alhaitham has known since he had been a child, and his grandmother had pressed her weathered hand in his, and asked - where is it that you would like to learn? the house had been bright, back then. it had steeped with the scent of old books, and the gentle drift of dust.
instead, what alhaitham says is this: ]
Come.
[ he begins to walk.
of course he does - this is the way that cats do it. through the rain bisected by the shape of a colourless umbrella, alhaitham takes the requisite steps that bring him to the end of the street. and then, in the way of all cats, he looks back with the expectant air of a man waiting to be followed. ]