Work Text:
Faranak is a renowned architect and alumna of Kshahrewar. With her son’s similarly astonishing artistic and technological prowess, it’s beyond doubt that he is next-in-line as the Light of Kshahrewar.
However, aside from creating images with the power of the pen and developing architectural models, Kaveh is also good at subverting the Akademiya’s expectations.
And so, Kaveh ventures in pursuit of a different form of art instead: The art of words.
Haravatat .
“Great Archons, why?! Haravatat is for boring, ugly, serious people!” Kaveh’s father exclaims. Kaveh chuckles. “What you want is absurd! Kshahrewar is where all the gorgeous scholars are. Look at your mother!”
His mother lets out an exasperated sigh, which would have been believable had she not been failing to hide her fond smile. “That’s enough, dear. I’m sure he has his reasons. Although…” She turns her head towards Kaveh with a frown. “I hope the reason isn’t because you no longer find joy in creating.”
“Don’t worry, mother,” Kaveh walks towards her and holds her hand as reassurance before he continues. “This decision isn’t because of anything of the sort! On the contrary, I’m pursuing Haravatat precisely because expanding my horizons would make me appreciate my craft more than I already do. I love the arts, and I believe that this love will see me through Haravatat too.”
His parents exchange a look as his father says, “Well, if it’s love that led you to that decision, then who are we to refuse?”
***
On his first day as a Haravatat student, Kaveh arrives in the Akademiya far too early. The halls he walks through are familiar, yet at the same time foreign. He has never been to this side of the Akademiya’s grounds until now since his classes were mostly on the other side, where Kshahrewar courses were offered.
He decides to check his classroom and settle in a seat before class begins.
He finds the room unoccupied, save for one seat, where a gray-haired man is reading what he presumes to be a textbook required for their course. He seems younger than Kaveh, although not by much.
Kaveh thinks back to the adjectives that his father used to describe members of Haravatat while inspecting the man from head to toe.
Boring? Perhaps.
Serious? Very much so.
Ugly?
Well, that one’s debatable.
Much to Kaveh’s demise, the man glances up and catches him staring. “May I help you?” He asks in a monotone voice.
Kaveh is quick to hide how flustered he is at being on the receiving end of the man’s scrutiny. He walks towards him and offers a hand as a form of greeting, “You’re from Haravatat too, aren’t you? I assume we’re taking the same class?”
The man nods as he shakes his hand, before introducing himself, “Alhaitham.”
Kaveh freezes in realization the moment the man utters his name.
There wasn’t a single person in this establishment who didn’t know of the name Alhaitham . It echoes through the halls of the Akademiya as people rave about him and his intellectual capacity. Despite his young age, he already has experience as a research assistant in various projects, particularly those in relation to King Deshret, invited alongside other notable researchers in the field to conferences all over Teyvat. Not to mention, he works as the Akademiya’s student scribe, juggling his part-time job with his classes.
“Kaveh,” Kaveh replies once his brain finally catches up. “I hope we get along.”
Now it was Alhaitham’s turn to pause, looking at him with the same dumbfounded gaze Kaveh sent his way just a moment ago, as if Kaveh was the last person he expected to see in this class, or more generally, in this department.
Truthfully? He kind of was.
“Kaveh, son of the Light of Kshahrewar? You got into Haravatat?” He inquires.
Kaveh raises his eyebrow, “What, like it’s hard?”
Alhaitham sighs. “That’s not what I intended to say. I was simply surprised, to say the least, since members of the Akademiya collectively assumed that you would follow your mother’s footsteps.”
“I did consider sticking to Kshahrewar as well, you see,” Kaveh sets his bag down to sit beside Alhaitham, deeming him nice enough to put up with as a seatmate for the rest of the semester. “But I ultimately decided against it so that I could explore other fields. It’s quite exciting, really, dipping my hands into unfamiliar waters.” He flashes a smile to the man beside him.
People start filling into the classroom, with their instructor following shortly after, marking the beginning of class.
“A pleasant morning to you all. I’m Azar, and I will be your instructor for this semester’s introductory course to Linguistics,” Azar says as he scans the room, observing each of his students carefully, giving them the impression that he could see right through them.
He pauses in his step when his eyes land on Kaveh, squinting. Kaveh suddenly feels an urge to curl in on himself and squirm in his seat under the intensity of Azar’s gaze, who was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there.
“In three years' time, a small number of students will be selected and sent to conduct field work in the desert, particularly in the ruins of the Mausoleum of King Deshret. Perhaps it’s too early to notify you all regarding this matter, since you are only at the beginning of your journey as a Haravatat scholar. However…” Azar catches Kaveh’s eye once again, as if directly addressing him, before continuing, “I suggest that you make haste to keep up with your peers, lest this opportunity goes to waste.”
Kaveh’s heart starts pounding. He’s not sure if this is out of fear or anticipation. Perhaps it’s both , he thinks.
Kaveh came from an entirely different area of study, specializing in puzzles and technology. Shifting disciplines is not something unheard of, of course. It’s a common occurrence everywhere around Teyvat. However, despite its spotless reputation and place in rankings, the Akademiya is not exactly the most ideal institution.
While it does grant scholars the academic liberty to choose which path to pursue, it does not aid much in the transition from one field to another. Since there aren’t many bridging classes held, students like Kaveh are left to fend for themselves, rendering them susceptible to falling behind.
A thousand thoughts flashes through his head, filled with doubt and what if ’s as the confidence he held himself up with from the moment he decided to tell his parents about his decision slowly dissolves into thin air. He’s pulled out of his daze when he feels Alhaitham silently slide a book towards him.
Kaveh holds the book up to inspect it. Linguistics: An Introduction , the title says. He looks over at the owner, who suddenly finds the wooden desk to be the most fascinating thing in the world. “Weren’t you in the process of reading this?” Kaveh asks.
“I’ve already read it before. I was merely skimming through it to review certain concepts. It would be of more use to you than me for this semester,” Alhaitham tells him. “You’re welcome to return it at your convenience.”
Kaveh smiles at him out of gratitude, feeling renewed vigor run through his veins. He thanks him and opens the book to familiarize himself with it as Azar continues to orient them about the requirements to pass this course.
***
There is a common misconception around the Akademiya that Haravatat is not as difficult as other Darshans, because it specializes in making sense of signs and meaning. It does not sound as grand as Kshahrewar’s architectural and technological studies, nor Spantamad’s alchemy and elemental work, nor Amurta’s biological research.
Admittedly, Kaveh used to be one of those who thought so as well.
When the average person hears of the field of linguistics, the first thing they would think of would be polyglotism, under the assumption that scholars in this field mostly spend their time learning as many languages as they possibly can.
While this isn’t entirely wrong, however, linguistics is far more than merely obtaining the ability to communicate in multiple languages. It's more than just signs and meaning, akin to how languages themselves are more than just a set of words to memorize.
Linguistics goes above and beyond, delving into the underlying systems that make up these languages, the strings used to bundle beads together to form a bracelet, or an utterance in this case. It strips phrases, sentences, and words down to their smallest units to better understand them and their multifaceted nature, never taking them at face value.
It has only been a year since Kaveh chose Haravatat as his area of study, but it was enough to make him realize how falsely construed this discipline is.
In their Introduction to Linguistics class with Azar, they were given a general overview of the principles and methods used in linguistic analysis, encompassing its primary branches: phonetics, phonology, morphology, semantics, and syntax. These are relatively straightforward on their own, but in terms of application, it has proven to be a challenge.
As Kaveh dives head-first into second year, the most significant discovery he has made was that Haravatat could be considered as a technical course in of itself to an extent, as they analyze the structure of languages, how it likely came to be, calculating what it could potentially become in the future, its evolution. They investigate the ways in which a language resembles or differs from others, why it resembles or differs from others, its genetic makeup.
Haravatat scholars often ponder over things that people would not necessarily think twice about, over linguistic processes that could or could not be subconscious. Sometimes, it makes Kaveh’s head hurt. Oftentimes, it makes him question his proficiency in his own native tongue.
In spite of this, he keeps a positive attitude. He often finds himself tapping Alhaitham’s shoulder to converse about these linguistic phenomena, or to borrow another book every time he finishes reading one. He finds himself in the House of Daena, browsing through the texts even if they’re not necessarily part of the required readings. He finds himself pausing in his step when he’s out and about, staring at signs hung around the Grand Bazaar, investigating how language is made visible in the area.
He finds himself falling in love…
… With linguistics, of course!
Although… He does find himself spending more and more time with Alhaitham, even outside the four walls of the classrooms they share.
Alhaitham sits with him during lunch time, brings a new book for him to peruse without him having to ask sometimes, accompanies him as he reads in the House of Daena, guides him when he encounters difficulties while working on their problem sets, walks with him around the Grand Bazaar, and sends him home when the sky starts getting dark.
… Kaveh internally yields. Perhaps he’s falling in love with linguistics and the linguist walking by his side.
***
Going through a dictionary of a language that you don’t speak is certainly a fascinating experience.
As previously established, being a polyglot was not a requirement in Haravatat per se. Not to mention, having the lingua franca of Sumeru as his mother tongue is actually a privilege, one which Kaveh acknowledges. However, when you’re in a field that researches languages and its systems, speaking the most commonly used language in your nation is similar to wielding a dull sword. Since it's relatively well-documented, coming up with a topic to research about it is much like a futile attempt of sharpening it after it has been worn down due to excessive use prior.
Meanwhile, speaking a language other than the major ones is like wielding a double-edged sword. Its tips are sharp, yet to be used. The outer tip allows the person who wields it to research anything and everything that comes to mind, since little to no literature has been made about it yet. The inner tip is precisely this lack of literature, which could render the wielder unable to move forward.
Kaveh’s dull sword (that is, his limited linguistic repertoire) was not something that mattered nor was apparent until his third year, where he was forced to let go of it in favor of a new sword to wield.
In one of their classes for this semester, students are tasked to choose an indigenous Sumeru language to analyze. The problem lies herein: Nobody is allowed to pick Sumerian, the nation’s lingua franca.
Kaveh (and a lot of others) has to choose a language that he has little to absolutely no familiarity with since he was not raised in a multilingual household the way Alhaitham was. Granted, being able to compare and contrast an unfamiliar language with his native tongue is fun in its own right. However, it is also extremely frustrating as it renders him dependent on selected resources dated decades before he was even born. He could not rely on his own sense of the language to ensure the accuracy of the data he found and his own analysis.
Kaveh has been sitting in the same position in the House of Daena for what feels like ages, staring at the frayed yellowing pages of a book he can barely comprehend. The librarian wouldn’t allow him to take it home with him because of its age. He runs his hand through his already messy hair as his blank draft mocks him, reminding him that he has not made any significant progress on the paper they are supposed to submit at the end of this semester. They’re already halfway through the given timeline.
It was moments like this that made him doubt his decision to pursue Haravatat. Should he have stuck to what he knew, the path he was already familiar with? Should he have not been so adamant about exploring his options and testing the waters of a new discipline?
Was his stubborn ambitiousness, which he thought of as a strength, his fatal flaw?
The familiar sound of a chair beside him being pulled shakes him out of his thoughts, but he’s sent spiraling right back when he hears Alhaitham’s voice ask, “How’s your paper?”
Kaveh sighs. “I’m stuck. I have three resources and I barely know what to do with the limited data in them. Maybe I should choose a different topic.”
“You could work with what you have and see it through,” Alhaitham proposes, which makes Kaveh grit his teeth.
“The authors already covered almost everything that needed to be covered, what else am I supposed to write about?” Kaveh replies, exasperated, only to be even more confused when Alhaitham says, “Almost.”
“What?”
“You said it yourself, the author covered ‘almost’ everything. What hasn’t he covered, then? How can you use that to your advantage?”
“I wouldn’t be struggling if I knew how to answer that,” Kaveh snaps before coming back to his senses. He sighs. “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to help, but I really have no idea what else I’m supposed to say about this sound, this phoneme, as it is now. I…” Kaveh’s voice trails off as the gears click into place inside of his head.
“I have no idea what to say about this phoneme as it is now,” Kaveh repeats, mostly to himself. Alhaitham hums in acknowledgment as he peers over the papers on Kaveh’s desk. “So I could investigate its past instead!”
“I’ll look for its sound correspondences in other Sumerian languages to see how the phoneme appears in its parent language, Proto-Sumeria—” Kaveh cuts himself off from rambling and flushes as he notices his proximity with Alhaitham, close enough to see his own reflection within the depths of the younger man’s pupils, framed within his teal irises. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. He wonders if Alhaitham can hear it too.
They continue to look at each other as their breaths fan each other’s faces, until Kaveh decides to break eye contact by looking down. He soon realizes that doing so is an even bigger mistake as he’s greeted with the sight of Alhaitham’s lips.
Kaveh stands up from his seat to avoid embarrassing himself further, although he’s sure his face is almost as red as his cape at the moment, giving him away. He busies himself with his work, looking for resources of other Sumerian languages, while Alhaitham silently observes him with a small smile on his lips.
After placing his new books and scrolls down his table, Kaveh finally turns to Alhaitham again. After gathering enough courage and calming down his nerves, Kaveh pulls him into a hug while grinning from ear to ear because of his breakthrough. “Thank you,” he mumbles into Alhaitham’s neck. “I would flunk this class without you.”
Alhaitham tenses for a second before inevitably melting into Kaveh’s embrace. Kaveh says it lightheartedly, but Alhaitham hears the insecurity between the lines. “You came up with it yourself. You were already in the right direction, and all I did was push,” Alhaitham replies as reassurance.
Kaveh pulls away just enough to look at him and deliver his reply, but the response he was formulating in his head disappears as he suddenly realizes how close they are again. His gaze flickers from Alhaitham’s teal eyes to his lips, before going back to his eyes again in an attempt to hide it, only to find Alhaitham doing the same thing.
Kaveh lets out a nervous chuckle before letting his arms drop from where it was perched on top of Alhaitham’s shoulders, almost shivering at the loss of the warmth that radiates from the younger man’s body. Kaveh steals another look at him as they both go back to their respective seats.
Alhaitham was difficult to read, but there was something akin to disappointment across his features. Kaveh shakes his head to clear his thoughts, brushing it off as his own wishful thinking.
Still, something seems to have shifted between them at that moment. The tension in the air is palpable, although not unpleasant or unwelcome. It makes both of their skins tingle, especially whenever their hands brush against one another as they work.
***
“After a fruitful semester, the list of selected students who will come with me to conduct field work in the ruins of the Mausoleum of King Deshret has been finalized.
“Please check the bulletin board outside the room. To those who made it, congratulations. I’ll see you at the beginning of the summer term. To those who did not,” Azar turns to address the class. The room goes silent, the sound of a pin drop could be heard amidst the suspense. “You will be conducting field work within Sumeru city instead. You are all dismissed.”
Kaveh takes his time packing his belongings to prolong seeing the results. As he reaches for the book on his desk, he realizes that he’s trembling. He attempts to take a deep breath to calm his nerves, only to almost choke on air when he feels Alhaitham take his hand in his.
Alhaitham massages his hand, easing Kaveh’s anxiety over the results bit by bit. Kaveh can still feel his heart attempting to jump out of his chest, although for an entirely different reason unrelated to field work now.
Kaveh isn’t stupid, thank you very much. He is well-aware of his blooming feelings for his friend. In fact, during conversations with Tighnari and Cyno in Puspa Cafe as they waited for Alhaitham, he would go as far as to claim that he is too aware.
He’s too aware of the feeling of Alhaitham’s hand on his, which fits like a missing puzzle piece. He’s too familiar with the urge to kiss away the furrow of his brows when he’s focused on his work, which is currently to help Kaveh calm down, blissfully unaware that his attempts are counterproductive with the storm brewing inside Kaveh.
Kaveh gently closes his hand around Alhaitham’s as the other finally looks up at him in silent question. Kaveh pulls him along, leading him out of the classroom. By the time they find themselves in front of the bulletin board where the results were posted, there are no more students in front of it left.
The two of them scan the list silently until Kaveh exclaims, “You made it!” His eyes sparkle as he looks at Alhaitham. “Oh Archons, you could work on so many topics while you’re there! After deciphering the runes and its meanings, perhaps you could also work on…” Kaveh rambles on, and Alhaitham would have been more than happy to simply stand and listen to him if it wasn’t for the fact that Kaveh did not look at the list long enough to see his own name on it. Alhaitham taps his shoulder and directs his attention to where his name is also written.
Kaveh gapes at the list, then at Alhaitham, then at the list again. This goes on for a while until Kaveh exclaims, “We did it… I did it! I ought to tell my mother! Her son is doing something right after all! This calls for a celebration. We must tell Cyno and Tighnari…”
Alhaitham helplessly listens as Kaveh blabbers on, unable to help himself from staring. Happiness suits him , Alhaitham thinks to himself, silently vowing to make sure Kaveh is always happy.
He allows himself to be pulled in the direction of Puspa Café, where they were supposed to meet their friends. Their intertwined hands are not unlike the affixed form of a verb, where Alhaitham’s hand is the root and Kaveh’s hand is the suffix attached at the end of it, creating a new word. In this case, it creates a new sensation, one that is derived from Alhaitham’s existing feelings, intensifying it tenfold.
Upon pondering further, however, Alhaitham figures that it’s actually the other way around. Kaveh is his root: free and independent. He used to be one too, until time modified him into a bound morpheme, unable to stand without being connected to the other.
***
Summer term arrives fairly quickly after that.
Kaveh and Alhaitham brainstorms ideas together as they pack for their trip, since they were allowed to collaborate on their output. They pull out as much literature about the Mausoleum as they could find in the House of Daena, working with the existing data so that they can at least paint a picture of what to expect inside of the edifice. They come up with a multitude of topics to cover, but they unfortunately find themselves unable to agree on which one to focus on.
Their differences, ranging from their philosophical beliefs to their areas of focus in linguistics, to even their preferred way of brewing their coffee in the morning, are striking to the outsider’s perspective. It’s enough to make one wonder about how they became close in the first place.
It seems that opposites do, indeed, attract.
When they propose their topics a day before they set off to the desert, Azar clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. His expectations are too high, and he often rejects topics that are not his forte to make it easier for himself to advise his students. Despite the range of topics they presented, none were up to par with his standards.
He waves the two of them off with his hand as he says, “I’d rather not see the scribe nor linguistically blonde today.” He pauses before pointedly adding, “Mr. Kaveh, if you’re so insistent upon testing the lines between the field of linguistics and architecture, then perhaps you would have been better off following your mother’s footsteps instead.”
A part of Kaveh shrivels up when he hears the sentence he fears most. It’s one thing for that string of words to appear in his own head, but hearing it from a professor was another. He refuses to blink, lest his eyes betray his otherwise neutral disposition. He opens his mouth to defend his topic when Alhaitham beats him to it.
“It’s still a linguistic line of inquiry,” Alhaitham argues. Kaveh is stunned to find Alhaitham defending him, even though he himself stated that he isn’t as interested in the topic as Kaveh is. “Disciplines aren’t mutually exclusive.”
Azar glares at him, but says nothing to dispute it otherwise, because Alhaitham is right. “Fine,” Azar relents, but not without posing a challenge. “If you can give me a satisfactory enough output that combines linguistics and architecture by the end of this term, I’ll guarantee both of you a chance to publish it. You’re dismissed.”
They walk out of the office in silence, in stark contrast with the pandemonium happening within the confines of Kaveh’s mind. Without a particular destination, their feet subconsciously takes them to the House of Daena, where they might as well live in given how often they stay there.
Kaveh slumps in his chair, Alhaitham naturally occupying the seat beside him, before looking up to stare Alhaitham in the eye. “Why did you defend it? I could’ve defended it myself," he asks.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Alhaitham returns the question. “Regardless of our differences, I stand by what I said. Even if the relationship between architecture and linguistics is not as obvious to the naked eye as the relationship across social sciences, they can still co-exist.” He pauses before continuing, “And I’m capable of acknowledging good ideas when I see them.”
Kaveh’s lips quirk at that. “So you admit…” He leans closer towards Alhaitham’s space as he says, “That it is a good idea! All those meaningless arguments and rebuttals…”
Alhaitham opens his book as he feigns nonchalance. “It’s surprisingly not your worst,” he teases, earning him a smack on the arm.
After a few beats of silence, Kaveh speaks up again to say, “Thank you.”
Alhaitham doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to, because Kaveh knows that the sentiment has already been delivered.
With that, they get to work, looking for ways to bridge the imaginary gap between their two worlds, the two sides of the coin that is art and language.
***
Kaveh gently traces the writings on the wall with his fingers, holding a scroll that contains the grammatical sketch of the language used in his other hand so that he can conveniently consult it at will.
While Kaveh cannot analyze the structure of the Mausoleum itself for this paper, the lines on the wall and the artifacts within its premises imply the great significance that previous settlers of the Sumeru desert placed upon buildings and construction. This puts him and Alhaitham at an advantage while jotting down data for their paper, since they settled upon the reconstruction of Proto-Sumerian words related to architecture.
This is a difficult task, given how indigenous Sumerian languages aren’t well-documented, and their wordlists only contain so much. The language used in the Mausoleum is an example of such, but working within the confines of the Mausoleum itself gave them access to writings and scriptures that they would otherwise be unable to find.
The data they found for reconstruction is fewer than they hoped for, but still enough. They could focus on comparing and contrasting the lexical items across Sumerian languages, as well as the morphophonological processes that it underwent from its hypothesized original form in Proto-Sumerian. Alhaitham and Kaveh discuss this while organizing their notes, parchments litter the Mausoleum’s floor.
Throughout their exploration of the Mausoleum’s depths, aside from the data necessary for their research, Kaveh naturally couldn’t help himself from appreciating its extravagant interior. During the times he isn’t trying to decode a string of runes, or listing down possible lexical entries for their paper, he would bring out his sketchbook to draw and immortalize the building’s features in his memory.
There are instances, however, when Kaveh’s attention is on neither the building’s design nor the writings carved in its walls. His eyes wander until they land on a figure with broad shoulders, seemingly deep in thought, staring at a particularly confusing rune. This is how Kaveh finds his sketchbook occasionally decorated with sketches of Alhaitham’s features, in an attempt to immortalize it in his memory too.
A month passes by in a flash, and they are to return to the Akademiya soon to finalize their outputs during the remaining weeks of summer term. Given the short timeline, they aren’t expected to hand in a fully-fleshed out output. However, the two scholars are nothing if not determined.
Alhaitham and Kaveh work together smoothly, sometimes in the House of Daena or otherwise cooped up in Alhaitham’s house, where Kaveh found himself staying over more often than not. Because of this, they develop a domestic routine, eating meals together, working side by side, until they each retreat to their own quarters for the night.
***
Nothing could ever compare to the rush of adrenaline and fulfillment that comes with finishing a research paper.
When they first started working on this paper, he had been anxious that it wouldn’t come close to their own standards, and by extension, Azar’s. However, as Kaveh painstakingly writes the last few words of their conclusion and recommendations for future academics, he feels his heart thumping in anticipation. Both him and Alhaitham are fairly pleased with the outcome of their work, and that is sufficient enough, regardless of what Azar has to say.
They head to the Akademiya to hand over their final manuscript of their work titled, “Decoding and reconstructing runes related to the architectural philosophy of the ruins of King Deshret's civilization.”
Azar scrutinizes the paper, but says nothing else. They take it as their cue to leave and enjoy the remaining days before the academic year begins again.
Kaveh stretches his limbs as they step outside of the Akademiya’s grounds. For the first time in a long time, he’s able to take a deep breath of relief.
***
They make their way home together.
“Home” being Alhaitham’s house, of course. No, it was totally not out of instinct , Kaveh argues in his mind when he realizes that he doesn't have a reason to be there anymore, with their collaborative paper submitted and all. However, he rationalizes this by telling himself that he does have to pack and take his things home with him after basically moving in during summer term. He doesn't want to overstay.
… That last bit was an obvious lie, though. He kind of does want to overstay. The thought of going back to his own house, with no one other than dust particles and cold air to greet him, was unappealing. He refers to it as house , because it doesn't have the warmth that constitutes the word home .
It doesn't have Alhaitham, literally and semantically.
Walking alongside Alhaitham to their shared space has become part of a routine that Kaveh desperately wants to keep, but he’s unsure if the other party wishes for the same thing.
The silence between them as they walked was not an uncomfortable one, but they were both preoccupied thinking to themselves. Their thoughts were loud enough to let the other know that they were pondering, but not loud enough to let them know that they were wondering about the same thing. Someone has to open their mouth and articulate an utterance for that to happen.
Neither of them speak until they cross the threshold and close the door behind them, the tension snapping alongside the lock. Alhaitham calls out Kaveh’s name, and the latter spins around too fast out of a mixture of surprise and eagerness.
There it is again, the dangerous proximity between them. They’re so close, akin to a hyphenated compound word with only one symbol hindering them from completely fusing with one another.
Tentatively, Kaveh deletes the hyphen separating them by asking, “Can I kiss you?” To which, after a valiant effort to find his voice, Alhaitham responds with, “Yes.”
Their lips meet after the deletion of the remaining space between them. They kiss as if they belong with each other, as if they’re two distinct morphemes that could not withstand the test of time alone, later recognized as only one unit. They mold into one another until they both forget that they were separate entities in the first place.
When they pull apart, leaving enough room for each other to breathe but lips still brushing against the other’s, Kaveh brings up another question. “Do you want to work on another research inquiry?”
Alhaitham raises an eyebrow at the timing, but curiosity is too ingrained in his system for him to refuse. Not that he could ever refuse Kaveh, but that’s an inquiry for another day. “What would it be about?” he answers with another question.
Kaveh smiles and kisses him again before replying, “A paper investigating the relationship between the scribe and linguistically blonde.”
In the end, Kaveh was right. Love saw him through in Haravatat too.