For a problem as simple as needing to get up from the couch, it should be easy. He should be rational, and force Haitham to rationally face this monster of his own creation, approach the situation like an adult-find a solution, execute the solution, and move on. Evidently not, is what he knows his roommate wants to say. Kaveh folds his arms over one another, raising an eyebrow at him from the corner of his eye. I am your friend, and as your friend, I have the unfortunate duty of caring for you when you cannot care for yourself.” “I can hear the cogs in your brain grinding. And as per Occam’s razor, the simplest solution is more often than not the truth. Haitham wonders sometimes if he too is a predator, forcing Kaveh to live with him due to his pitiful state of personal affairs. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and others take advantage of it more quickly than Kaveh’s pride will ever allow him to admit. Kaveh’s fatal flaw is that he cares far too much. He fidgets with the fabric of his belt bag, and considers turning on the music in his headphones to avoid this conversation. He supposes that this is a ‘falling’ stage. Rising, falling, rising, and falling again. His expressions are always so intense-and over the years, he’s developed a sixth sense for the man’s mood, which fluctuates like the tides. He doesn’t need to turn around to sense the frown on Kaveh’s face. I got through some difficult paperwork this morning, and I picked up lunch from the tavern. Kaveh sighs, and doesn’t try to twist his head around again. He blinks, shrugs, and stares at the wall again. What did Kaveh ask? He can hardly remember. Whispered words drift out from Kaveh’s lips like song. Kaveh looks worried, and all Haitham can think is why. How inconsiderate, his mind supplies, as Kaveh brings a hand up to his jaw, guiding his face to turn away from the wall and look at him. Kaveh sits beside him, and the cushion sinks, shifting his body just short of enough to lose his balance. You know very well that such small drops wouldn’t do a thing. If it causes damage, it will be expensive to repair. He should nag Kaveh about getting the hardwood wet.
Kaveh is back, hair toweled-up but still wet. Were the gods smiling down upon Haitham when they decided Kaveh’s opinions on such things? What did he do to deserve their grace? Why was Kaveh here? Why does Kaveh bother with him? Haitham knows he is not the most amicable roommate, and Kaveh is certainly popular enough to score another living arrangement if he so pleased. Why? How could he fall so far in such a short time?Ī headache builds, and the only sign of it is the slightest furrow of his brow. He fights his battles without picking or choosing, and yet this is the only one that he always loses, time and time again. The something holding him in this state should be trivial, easily defeated, and yet it feels like the most powerful enemy he has ever faced. Somewhere in the Akademiya, his paperwork must be piling up on an unoccupied desk with no excuse. Not a muscle moves, not a word is spoken or read, and no work is completed. He wants to move, to be productive, to read a book or wash his clothes, but nothing happens. It’s a peculiar mood he gets in sometimes, where there’s a great something holding him back. Nod, he commands himself, and his head doesn’t move. Unless I’m washing my hair, you can interrupt me and I’ll finish up.” Kaveh should put another misaligned painting here. Kaveh stares at him, and Haitham stares at the wall.
He should smirk, or glower, or do something to indicate that he heard Kaveh’s voice at all. Thought you’d be scolding me for my drinking habits by now.” There’s an attempt at a joke written into his tone, but it falls flat when the expression on Haitham’s face doesn’t change. “Are… you okay? You’re just sitting here. Haitham is reliable he doesn’t ditch his work.Īnother question that he doesn’t know the answer to. He did, of course, and he went to work, going through the motions, but at his lunch break he felt compelled to return home.
It should’ve been fine.Īnd yet, when he woke up that morning, he could hardly muster up the energy to walk out of bed. The observations come forward muted, and Haitham continues to stare forward at the wall, unmoving. Haitham is not sure how long he has been sitting on the couch when Kaveh returns home.
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