#al haitham fic

[kiryoutann]

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 ☆。*。☆ [ALHAITHAM X FEM! READER]

Warning(s): suggestive content at the end (no smut, though).

Genre: romance, modern! au, university! au.

Word count: 5,5k.

Blurb:

It's not a secret that Alhaitham is the most competitive and has great pride. But, what happens when you start 'stealing' his precious first rank from him? Alhaitham comes up with a plan; he will approach you, make you helplessly in love with him, distract you and steal his first place. Who would have imagined, though, that it would backfire on him?

Inspired by this post.

The clear sky stretches over the campus buildings. Birds were singing in appreciation of the cloudless and perfect weather. On the green grass of the park, college students chat while carrying the drinks they bought at a nearby kiosk. Everything about today said it was going to be a good day.

But not for Alhaitham.

The man was infamous for never smiling (though he believed they were all exaggerating since he had smiled once—when Kaveh slipped and fell into a pool of rainwater). His eyes always convey the impression that he is better to everyone, as evidenced by him usually occupying the top positions on every weekend exam. Usually.

No one would have believed that those eyes could be sharper than before while his lips were in deep gloom staring at the board where the ranking results were presented.

(Y/N) (L/N)

Alhaitham

His tongue clicked in annoyance. He has long known you’re a threat, proven when his professor also mentioned your name and the title of your research as 'good and well organized work’ in front of the class. However, Alhaitham didn't think you would actually succeed. Maybe he's been underestimating you all along.

A voice that sounded like a crowd of people talking and approaching made Alhaitham step aside, guessing whoever those people were going to look at the wall board. At first, he was going to keep standing there—with all his annoyance while staring at his name next to number two—but, one of them said something and made him freeze before turning his head.

“Hey, (Y/N)! You’re in first place!”

Pretty good way to sprinkle salt on the wound.

“Really?”

Enthusiasm is lacking in your voice, as if you had expected this—as if you had expected that Alhaitham would be number two, right below you. He stares at you reading the ranking results, then you turn to look at him, not intimidated.

The wind blows, your hair dances in the breeze, and Alhaitham is preoccupied figuring out what the smile on your lips means. While his rational mind says you're just trying to be friendly, his petty mind believes you're making fun of him. Alhaitham wasn’t going to believe the latter until you opened your mouth to say,

"Well, so we're now rivals?"

Rivals. Ha.

A scoff left his lips. “Funny." he started. "The last time I checked, for two people to be rivals, they have to be on the same level."

Instead of irritating you, his remarks widen your smile. "You're right." You glance at the board, your name is still emblazoned at the top. "Obviously we're not like that."

It was obvious you were mocking him, and plus, did you just boomerang his own words? Alhaitham inhaled through his nostrils. If it weren't for your friends waiting for you two to finish exchanging 'conversations', he would have continued this until you gave up having the last say.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.” Alhaitham said.

"Totally. We're going to a sushi restaurant after this. Wanna join?” The smirk on your face widens, or is it just him?

“You’re shameless.”

"And you’re still second."

Alhaitham refrained from continuing. "Have the day you deserve, (L/N)." He said, then turned to leave. If you're thinking about giving him another 'smart' comment, he sincerely hopes that you'll literally bite your tongue.

“I’ll be having a good one then, thanks!”

It takes all the patience inside of him not to turn back and get back at you. Alhaitham clenched his fists. Next week will be different, this must all just be down to your luck or he didn't take yesterday's test seriously. Alhaitham vowed not to let that happen again and was confident he would regain first place.

Next week was much the same.

The first thing Alhaitham did when he arrived on campus was walk quickly to the information board, where last week's exam rankings were displayed with a group of students reading them. He made his way through them to get a better look. There it is, first place with your damn name on it. He's still second. He is. Still. Second.

Something is definitely wrong. A small difference in score separates your rankings which frustrates him even more. He has been in first place for two years, and he doesn't need anyone to break that.

"Two weeks in a row, (Y/N)." Someone behind him commented.

Someone—you, he guessed—chuckled. “That study group really paid off.” You said.

Study group? He thought. Alhaitham was about to make his way out of the scene quietly to avoid you but, when a gasp escaped you, he knew you had found him.

“Alhaitham, hi!”

That's the most sickening hello. Alhaitham turned his head to look at you, who were beaming at him. It must be satisfying for you, watching him stand here in the same glum after reading the ranking results. He is still second and you know it too.

You looked back at your friends. “We’re going for fast food this time. Wanna join?” Alhaitham did nothing but glare at you. ".. Or do you want to join next week?"

You're pretty confident to say you'll still be first. This luck lasts only two weeks, and if it turns out to be more than that, Alhaitham will find a way to ruin it—just like you did to his first ranking streak. He really likes challenges, loves competition. But, it was now at a point where it was an embarrassment.

He chose to turn around instead of responding to you. He'll reclaim his first rank.

Next week has come with everything that makes his patience dripping off.

When Alhaitham opened his messaging app and downloaded the PDF a classmate had sent him, his stomach churned in uneasiness. He watched the loading circle complete then pressed it quickly with his thumb. Turquoise eyes swept across the title—something he had never done before but now he did to buy time before lowering his gaze on number one and—

“Damn it!”

The entire bus turned their heads to the grey-haired. They looked at him with judgmental eyes, some thinking he had lost his mind (like most college students do because of their endless assigments). Alhaitham paid no attention to any of that. He was too busy swearing mentally while rereading your full name.

What the hell is going on?

Alhaitham is desperate. He was desperate for an explanation as to why the first place had slipped out of his hands. These two years, everything was fine; then what made him 'fail' like this? He closed his group chat and turned off his cell phone while preparing to get off at his stop. However, the question kept repeating itself in the back of his mind.

At lunch time, he walked into the architecture department cafeteria—four buildings away from Alhaitham's. He wouldn't have bothered to approach Kaveh—who was sitting at one of the cafeteria tables with the cheapest meal he was about to eat—if he hadn't needed a second opinion. The second those red eyes landed on him, Alhaitham watched his face change as if.. he had lost his appetite?

Regardless, Alhaitham kept walking and sat in the chair across from him. The crease between Kaveh's brows deepened.

"What do you want?" Kaveh asked, grumpily.

"I need your opinion."

The blonde crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. "What?" He gave Alhaitham a quick once-over before smirking. “Wow, never expected the day you would beg for my help."

“Opinion, not help. I'll decide if it's helpful or not later.”

Kaveh—not feeling like arguing today—still made sure to exhale loudly enough for him to hear. “Whatever that keeps you out of my face." He stuck his fork deep into his food hoping it was Alhaitham instead.

Alhaitham fell silent in his thoughts. He was stroking his imaginary beard while thinking of ways to say it without telling him straight that he was in despair. If Kaveh knew someone beat him in the rankings, he would make fun of this. He didn't need that added to his plate.

"Something was stolen from me." He said carefully.

Kaveh raised one eyebrow before digging back into his food. "That's your problem?" He watched Alhaitham nod. "Buy it again. Problem solved. Now get off my table.”

"This isn’t something that can be bought."

Kaveh rolled his eyes. “Aren't you supposed to be the smartest? You ruined my precious lunch time.” He held his tray before standing up, about to switch tables. “Just steal it back. Done! You're done, right? Don't bother me. I've a little time before dealing with that lovesick guy Childe."

Steal it back. Lovesick.

Alhaitham had heard how complicated love was—a blessing and a curse, say those who had. He doesn't really care about people, but he does meet a bunch of friends who don't show up for meetings because they're busy dating (he ends up crossing their names off assignments, don't worry).

Steal it back. Lovesick.. Something clicked in his brain. That's it!

A new determination ignited and burned. He stood up from the cafeteria table with a smile, a sharp contrast to the state he was in when he entered it. The birds were fluttering their wings under a clear sky. This time he would take that as a good sign.

Today will be the start of his grand plan to approach you, date you, and infatuate you to the point where you’re so distracted with him that you once again come in second, as it should be.

It started after the last class of the day.

Seconds after the professor picked up his laptop and documents stating that class was over, Alhaitham immediately moved to approach you (who luckily sat alone in the absence of your usual friends). He watched you tidy up your books, your notes and all the colorful highlighters. One rolls over to the edge of the table and he catches not only that but your attention.

“..Hey.” You say hello, giving him a skeptical look before looking back perhaps he's here for someone else. After confirming that it was just you, you proceeded to ask: "Can I help you?"

Right. You two aren't exactly on good terms, so his sudden approach will no doubt make you feel uneasy. Alhaitham took a silent breath, feeling the air fill his lungs before he opened his mouth to say, "We need to talk.”

What a wonderful choice of words. Your lips curved into a faint smile as you stuffed your books and notes into your bag.

“So demanding.” you comment. "Are you always like this?"

Alhaitham has always lived with the rational side of his brain, so it's not a problem for him to control his emotions even though he has many words to reply to your clever comments. He stares at you, having the chance to notice the color of the irises under those curled eyelashes this time; he probably would have liked the color if not for the rivalry between you two.

"The other day, I was rude to you." He started, his own words piercing his pride. "I'm here to apologize to you."

You hummed in response, "Hmm, then let me hear it.”

Alhaitham fumbled around in his pocket. You see him set a bar of chocolate down on the table. A wrinkle forms in the middle of your furrowed brow. Your eyes return to his turquoise one, it reminds you of the gemstone described in the textbook you read last night.

Even though it felt better to bite his lip than to say it, Alhaitham really had no choice but to speak it this time.

“I’m sorry.”

"What are you sorry for?"

Something flashed in his eyes before it disappeared. Alhaitham was making a best efforts to keep a straight face, but as soon as he noticed how your smile became wider, he realized you were using this as an opportunity to play him.

"For being rude."

You nodded, still looking dissatisfied. "And why were you being rude?" The laughter at the corner of your throat was harder to contain when you saw his lips starting to form a glum shape.

“Do you really need to ask that?” Alhaitham protested.

"I need to make sure you're sincere."

A sigh escaped his lips. "Haah.. fine," He then continued, "Perhaps I was irritated because I was one rank below you." His badly damaged dignity would require a lot of time to mend.

Luckily it’s enough for you. "So, is the chocolate for me?" You glanced at the table where the chocolate bar was still sitting. It's from a brand you love but, never had the chance to buy again because it's quite expensive. Either this is just a coincidence, or Alhaitham also likes it or he has done a background check on you.

“I'm just going to put it there. It's none of my business if you eat it or not." He said.

Alhaitham could have worded it more politely—more kindly. He regretted saying it in his way, thinking you would react negatively to that. However, when his ears catch the sound of someone's laughter—yours—his eyes widen as he stares at you taking the chocolate from the table.

"Has someone ever said you have a weird way of talking?"

Someone has. Kaveh.

You waved the chocolate bar in your hand. "Apology accepted, as well as the chocolate." When you smiled at him, he wasn't irritated by it this time.

"I'll see you around." You’re about to walk away.

“Wait.”

You stop walking. Turning to the gray-haired, you looked at him with curiosity. Alhaitham moved his gaze to you. From this angle, you can see why he's secretly loved by many. With sharp eyes, lips that never smile, and a defined jaw; you wonder why he never thought of becoming a model instead of coping with college life. Probably the same reason as you.

Alhaitham turned his back on you completely. "You haven't found a partner for Professor Aabid's observation assignment yet, have you?" he inquired.

You unconsciously nodded, "That's right." you said before reflecting about his question. “Why do you—“

"Be my partner."

“.. What?”

Alhaitham crossed his arms over his chest. "Is there a reason for you to refuse?" he asked.

"No, but why me?" You shake your head.

"Because I don't have one either." He answered casually before smiling faintly. "Besides, I think we'd be perfect pair, don't you think so?"

Perfect? You think 'hellish' is more appropriate. A few days ago, you two were at each other's throats fighting for the first place, and now what? You really can't believe Alhaitham labeled you both as ‘perfect’ partners. He's working on something under his sleeve you know.

Alhaitham saw your doubt. "Shouldn't that convince you?" He glanced at the chocolate bar.

You followed his gaze and chuckled. “So it turns out this is a bribe."

"It could be."

"Ha! You're up to something, I can feel it." For a second, you swear you saw his eyes widen and he turned pale, but it could have just been your imagination. "But whatever, I'm game."

Alhaitham had an arrogant grin on his face. “See you at Monday then.” He didn't even deny it, only then turned his shoes on walking towards the exit.

You didn't miss a single detail when you told this to your friends. See? It's not just you who feels weird about his sudden change in attitude. Your girls warned you to be careful with him, some told you to change partners—speculating that he might be trying to abduct or kill you, adding your tragedy to the long list of criminal cases that are made into documentaries on Netflix. You doubt it though.

Monday came like in the blink of an eye. Or maybe your weekend was so much fun that you forgot you partnered with Alhaitham.

The second he landed his eyes on you entering the room, Alhaitham cleared his throat. He had spent the weekend finishing ten romance books to find out what makes someone fall in love fast. Today was the day he put it all into practice. He will claim his first position soon.

Maintaining eye contact.

"Hey." You greet him, take a seat next to him, and place your bag at your feet. "How was your weekend?"

"It was fine." Alhaitham replied.

You give a brief nod. He's still looking at you, giving you a chance to take in more detail of his eyes. It not only had a turquoise color, an amber hue surrounded its pupils. College life has not left any traces on his flawless skin. You won't deny that he was given a gift in the form of handsome face.

Alhaitham was still staring at you, as if you were an alien. Feeling uncomfortable, you look straight ahead hoping he will do the same.

Fourteenth second and he's still at it, you're starting to think you have something in your face. You take out your phone, open the camera app and find nothing. Maybe he wanted to ask something? You return to Alhaitham to confirm.

"Do you have anything to say?" you ask.

Alhaitham blinked then replied, “Sure.”

Sure? You don't know how to respond to that. "What do you want to say?" You rest your cheek on your palm.

"Just.." Alhaitham tried to remember the next step.

2. Touch them more often.

Alhaitham stretched out his hand quickly. A second later you feel warmth slightly touching the skin of your ear. He just tucked a strand of your hair away from your face. Alhaitham just tucked a strand of your hair away from your face. Maybe he's a perfectionist, disliking messy things like your hair that you rush into ponytail for fear of missing the bus. But, you really didn't expect this at all.

"Uhh.. thanks." You force a smile, shifting slightly away from him.

Maybe it's true what your friends say about him planning to kidnap you.

Meanwhile in his mind, Alhaitham mistook your wary demeanor as shyness. He suppressed a smile. He had doubts about the usefulness of the romance books, yet they paid off. It won't take you long to slip into his trap.

Professor Aabid's classwork is more difficult than one might imagine. Fortunately, two weeks were given to complete it. You and Alhaitham often meet to discuss paper material, which later leads to visiting your house as a comfortable place to work on it. Weekends with your friends are replaced by being with him. Books and laptops are now preferred over late-night karaoke.

A pen was placed on the carpet. You take a deep breath before stretching, feeling relieved after relaxing the tense muscles caused by your sitting posture. Alhaitham approached the table and set two mugs on the floor table.

You smell the sweet scent. "What's this?" You take one.

"Hot chocolate." He replied, drinking his own.

One of your eyebrows is raised. "Not coffee? Are you sure this won't make us sleepier?” you ask.

Alhaitham put down his glass which is now half down. "The only way to get rid of exhaustion is to sleep. Just go to sleep if you're tired; I'll continue the next page.” He pulled the laptop closer to him.

 “Really? Are you saying that to sound nice or do you really mean it?”

"Stop asking stupid questions." He fixed his eyes on the laptop screen.

You straighten your sitting posture. “Oh, come on. Can't you just smile or laugh once?” you protest.

Alhaitham's fingers stopped typing. A line he remembered from one of those romance books flashed in his mind. The third step to make someone fall in love: smile more often.

You see him turn to you, lips curling into a smile. It complimented him well, really well. His hand stretched out. But this time he wasn't aiming for your strands or your ears. He placed his palm on the top of your head and ruffled it gently.

"Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up later.”

Yes, Alhaitham thought. This should be enough for her to fall—

His train of thought was interrupted when you took his hand and cupped it in front of your face. Thumb moved in a circular manner across his calloused fingertips. Compared to his, your skin is incredibly warm. Are you flirting with him? Before Alhaitham could have his answer, he watched as your lips curved into a smile wide enough to lift your cheeks.

"Okay." you answer. "Would you be fine alone?”

Alhaitham quickly and abruptly pulled his hand away. He immediately pretended to be focused on the laptop, his one free hand hiding his lips behind it and muttering: "I told you to stop asking stupid questions."

Another laugh from you and he doesn't like how his heart reacts to that. It was beating too fast, too different from normal. He knew he had no history of any illness, so why did his chest feel warm? He compared its warmth to your hands just now, and now he ends up thinking all about you.

You slept on the couch behind him. Alhaitham remained with his laptop and open book. Between you two is silence and a troubled heart.

The day before the deadline for submitting Professor Aabid's class assignments, the drizzling rain turned heavy. The usual clear sky was replaced with dark clouds that came in to block up the afternoon sun. Some students voiced their complaints, and others opened their umbrellas to flee. They concluded today would be a bad day.

Two people ran in an uneven pace beneath the man's black jacket. In the midst of the puddles that spread across the campus grounds, they no longer care if their shoes end up dirty later. You closely hold onto your freshly printed papers for fear that the rain will hit it and cause the ink to smear. Meanwhile, Alhaitham puts a hand on your shoulder guiding you to take shelter under the roof of one of the biology department buildings.

“Phew!” You let out a sigh of relief after checking your documents were safe.

Alhaitham glanced at you. "Are you alright?" He asked, worry was in his voice, but you failed to notice.

“Yeah,” You held up the brown envelope high. “the envelope got wet but, the rest was fine.”

"I asked about you, not the documents."

"Oh." After saying that, you let out a laugh—one that made Alhaitham hold his breath hoping it would stop the warmth that was seeping into his cheeks and chest. “It's just rain. The worst-case scenario is when I wash my shoes later."

Now that you mention it, those turquoise eyes can't help but steal a quick peek at your dirt-stained white shoes. He checked his and realized that it wasn't as awful as yours—possibly because the materials you two had were different. Not only that, he also realizes the size differences between your feet and his.

"We can always go to the shoe wash." Alhaitham suggested.

You seem interested in the idea. "And go for ice cream after?"

A smile automatically crawled onto his face after hearing that. He's been smiling a lot lately. "Sure." He replied, watching you squeal with joy.

The heavy raindrops were still falling onto the ground. Although the wind wasn't very strong, it was enough to cause shivers in people who had previously been drenched. Alhaitham noticed it in you. He swiftly wrung his black jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

"What about you?" you ask.

Alhaitham shook his head. "I can manage." The lie came out smooth. In reality, you catch him repeatedly rubbing his hands trying to keep himself warm.

So you took his hand, too suddenly and unexpectedly. He watched you bring it to your lips, felt the touch of your warm breath on his skin. His heart missed a beat. Something stirred in his stomach and Alhaitham didn't like one bit of it. He picks up a lot of details about you—from how your lips curl while you blow another warm air on his fingers to the strands of your wet hair tickling your cheeks.

The first step to make someone fall in love: maintain eye contact.

For some reason, he had a hard time doing it now. Every time he made an effort, his heart would continue to race and his hands would feel the need to have you beneath his touch—in his arms. His eyes will first go down your cheek, nose, and cupid's bow before settling on your lips. Shimmering lipgloss around your lips. Maybe one day he'll be able to taste it?

Alhaitham's thoughts stopped. What kind of desire just grew in his chest?

The smile that you’re now carving doesn't help the situation either. It came like a sea of roses, and Alhaitham didn't even like roses. But, if it looks like you—smells like you; then the thing he wanted to do was dive into it and never surface again.

Oh, now he understands.

Whole lines from the romance books he had read for his grand plan came back like boomerangs. Instead of making you fall in love, he fell in love. Instead of stealing back his ranking, he ended up being the one who got stolen.

This kind of feeling... he didn't know what to do with it.

Before Alhaitham could find the answer, the rain had died down. You turned around with a happy face, releasing his hand slowly (he wished he could still feel your skin on his). Your voice says about turning in assignments early, perhaps Professor Aabid will be kind enough to give you some extra credit. However, what Alhaitham can focus on is your figure stepping under the rays of the sun slowly coming out of the clouds that has finished its misery.

Alhaitham is conflicted about today. His feelings was left unspoken.

You did not show up to campus the next day. Alhaitham was at the front of the class when he received your message saying that you were sick and unable to attend class.

The old Alhaitham will take this opportunity to return to being the best in class and not give you any notes from the lecturer's explanation. The new Alhaitham has already started turning his shoes and sprinting towards the exit while he's fiddling with his cell phone sending you a message that he'll be here soon.

When he arrives at your apartment door, his index finger presses the bell button in agitation. Did you get sick from the rain?

When the door swings open, Alhaitham immediately scans you. Slightly messy hair, flushed face, hoarse voice as you call his name and ask why he’s here. It seems you were sleeping, so you didn't read his message. Regardless, Alhaitham made his way inside after closing the door.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I left."

Your ears are deceiving you, right? If not, then what is the reason that made you hear Alhaitham say that he left the class? You glance at the digital clock not far from the kitchen and find it's too early for class to end.

"Wait.. did you just skip class?"

Alhaitham stopped fiddling with the medicines he bought after hearing your question. Silence fell between you. You think he'll never answer until he opens his mouth to say, "Maybe."

You sneeze before asking, "Are you serious?"

"I heard you got sick. So here I am."

Alhaitham answered too briefly for you to think he did this for no reason. After placing the meds on the counter, he rushes into your kitchen (as if he owns it). You were still standing there in silence—still unable to believe what was happening. He comes up to you with a glass of water.

"I bought you soup, in case you haven't eaten."

"So you're saying that you ditched class just to come here?" you ask.

A sigh escaped his lips as he turned around like he was avoiding something. "Still talking about that? Isn't my answer enough?" He replies too softly requiring you to concentrate a little more to hear him; your plugged ear doesn't help either.

"Yeah, I'm bringing that up because the Alhaitham I know will take this opportunity to beat me." You walk quickly towards him. "And you're acting weird right now, you know."

Alhaitham turned to you, and you swear your heart skipped a beat when you found something different in those turquoise eyes of his. You're not really sure what, though. The height difference makes you slightly look up to stare at him back. You don't know since when you took every detail of him, but you can't miss how his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows out of... nervousness?

Alhaitham? Nervous?

Whatever it is, it's starting to affect you as well.

Alhaitham stares at you, pausing at your lips before returning to your eyes. “Are you going to make me say it?” His voice was soft, as if he was reading a secret love letter.

Now it's your turn to swallow. “.. Say what?”

"That I like you."

In that second, your breath caught. Your eyes burn from not blinking, but you're too frozen in place to do that. Your jaw is slack. His words have a way of warming your heart, or is it the gaze he still gives you? Beautiful turquoise color.. which is now only focused on you as if you were the only thing ever made in the universe.

“.. What?”

“I like you.” He repeated without complaining.

Now that he has said it more clearly, you can't help but stare at his flushed cheeks. You know exactly yours aren’t much different from his. Did Alhaitham really just make a love confession? To you, out of all the people? Confusion has taken over your mind. You blink a few times to make sure you really aren't dreaming. Alhaitham just made a love confession. To you, out of all the people.

In contrast to the flushed cheeks and the awkward silence he maintained, Alhaitham stood with his usual stoic face. Your lips opened without a word coming out.

Alhaitham took a breath. "It wasn't planned." He took the opportunity to add. "I.. didn't expect it either."

So what he's trying to tell you is that falling in love with you wasn't part of his plan? You swallowed again, your throat quickly drying. It's as if he's saying that whatever it was you did to make him fall in love, it was enough for him to become lost in his own ambitions. Your chest is warm—ten times warmer than when the warm chocolate he made flows sweetly.

"Maybe I should give you an explanation. I don't want to cause any misunderstanding—no, I don't want you to misunderstand me.” Alhaitham sighed before continuing, “You must have realized from the beginning that I didn't approach you by chance or simply to apologize. Now that I've said it, you should be able to figure out what my failed plan was."

You smiled awkwardly, “.. My guess is you plan to make me fall in love with you and distract me for first place, but maybe it's just me too—”

"That's right. How did you know?"

His turquoise eyes were even more beautiful when they enlarged, as he was doing right now. Your laugh caused his cheeks to turn redder. “Well, those sweet gestures doesn't exactly fit your personality. And I swear I heard a few lines  similar to those in this one romance book I read."

Alhaitham smiled faintly. "Guess I shouldn't waste my time on all of that, huh?"

Another laugh escaped your lips. "Do you regret it now?" you ask.

"Regret what?"

“Do you regret falling in love with me?”

Alhaitham blinks, two seconds later gives you a shake of the head. "Oddly enough, no, I don't regret it." He shook his head again. "I don't regret it at all."

You take two steps forward. “Good,” you said, tiptoeing up to his face. From this distance, those turquoise eyes looked more beautiful. "Because I wouldn't be helping you with your pick-up lines if it weren't for me."

One push and your lips were on his. He kisses back, placing his big hand behind your head to deepen the kiss. Your fingers find a way to crawl on his broad chest covered in his tight shirt. Without breaking the kiss, he moved closer to press you against the kitchen counter.

You're the first to let go for a breath and say, “W-wait, I have a cold. What if you—"

A quick kiss to silence you. "Don't worry, I bought us a lot of medicine." He said, voice deep and husky.

Alhaitham took off his denim jacket, threw it carelessly and kissed you again—this time more passionately. He directed his lips to the crook of your neck. Your legs hooked around his waist as you feel his breath on your skin.

He plans to steal, but instead ends up getting stolen. But, that's fine. He will gladly let you steal whatever from him, so go ahead and do it.

Check out more of my post: WRITING COMMISION. GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST.

[themissinggoldfish]

🌱🏛️ Our silent promise

[something’s changed in the year the traveler was away]

[earthtooz]

x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+ﾟ

in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?

warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.

a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)

Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 

The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.

“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.

“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”

“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 

“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.

How bothersome. What’s happening to him?

“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.

“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”

“The one for your elective?”

You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”

“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”

“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 

(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)

“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.

You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”

“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 

But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 

(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)

“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.

Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 

The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.

A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.

“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.

“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 

The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.

(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)

You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 

“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 

“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”

“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”

“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”

“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”

“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”

Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”

A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.

Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 

“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 

“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”

The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 

“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”

“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m the only one who-”

“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.

Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”

“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”

“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”

A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”

“Hold on, what does the note say?”

Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?

“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“

Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”

“Sure, but why are you doing-“

“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.

So why weren’t you here?

“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.

You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?

“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.

“Whom?”

You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.

“What?” Alhaitham snaps.

“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”

“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”

Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  

“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”

“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”

“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”

“Because she was sick.” 

“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 

“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”

“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.

Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.

Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 

“You’re not that special.”

A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.

“Listen to me!”

“Fuck off!” 

“Y/n-”

You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 

“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.

“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.

The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”

“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.

“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 

“No one. Now get lost.” 

“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”

“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”

“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”

“-No, no, none of those!”

“Then what?”

Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”

“Huh? Why so annoyed?”

“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”

It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 

“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 

“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”

“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”

Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.

He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 

You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 

And why are you smiling so happily?

You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).

He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?

He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.

(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)

Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 

“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”

You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 

He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 

“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”

“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 

“What guy?” 

“Your project partner.”

“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.

He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 

“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 

“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 

Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 

Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?

Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.

“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.

Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-

“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 

Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.

“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 

“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”

“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”

“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.

“Nope,” you sigh. 

“Why not?”

“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”

“An apology? Why? What did he say?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 

“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”

“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”

“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”

Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.

“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”

“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 

“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.

Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.

“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”

“When will you just confess to Y/n?”

The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”

“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”

“-what, when?”

“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 

“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”

“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”

“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 

“So why aren’t you apologising?” 

“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”

“Jealous, much?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”

“But, we are just friends-”

“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”

The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 

“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”

A sharp click rings through the room.

Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 

(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.

What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?

Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.

“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.

He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.

“For me?” You ask.

“For you.”

“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 

“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”

You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  

“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.

“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 

“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”

“By your groupmate?”

“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 

“Yes. I did.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”

“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 

You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 

“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”

A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 

Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”

“Are you free right now?”

“I am. Why?”

“Let’s go out then. On a date.”

“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.

The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[sixosix]

(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET

i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.

ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno

iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily

“Hey, Alhaitham?”

He hums noncommittally.

You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.

“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”

“Hm.”

“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”

Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.

“Did you read it?”

“...No.”

Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”

Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”

You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”

“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”

“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”

“Haven’t we always been in one?”

“No, we have not?”

Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”

“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”

“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?

“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”

Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”

Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”

“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”

“It’s not like that. I thought—”

“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?

“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.

You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.

You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.

Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.

He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.

“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.

“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.

His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”

Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”

You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”

Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.

“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”

“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.

“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”

“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”

“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”

“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”

“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.

“Alhaitham.”

“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”

“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”

“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”

Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.

You are too weak. “So you like me.”

“I do.”

“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”

Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?

“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”

“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”

It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start��officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”

Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”

Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.

earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.

also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁

[scruus]

Stomach buldge with kaveh. Imagine tracing the outline of your cock on his soft belly while he's bent over his table. He's whining about how you're too big, and he can barely take all of you in him. Imagine thrusting gently in and out of him making him stare as his stomach shows off your cock with each and every thrust.

Belly bulge u say huh 🔔

notes: NOT PROOFREAD, amab!gn!reader x afab kaveh, belly bulge, office sex, self-degradation(?) by kaveh, creampie, pregnancy mentions. K bye

kaveh surprising his ceo!reader partner after days of being away from home due to work. He enters your cabin with a smile across his face and a bag full of your favourite snacks. You could almost feel the tears well up in your eyes when you see your lover standing a few inches away from you, lunging at him like he was a soft, comfy bed during a thunderstorm.

Showering him with kisses and pining his body so close to yours kaveh could almost sense your bodies melting in one but oh he missed you so dearly too. And this absence of loving intimacy surged into that of insatiable lust.

“a-am sorry kaveh, am really bu- ugh”, low groans escaping your throat as his tight cunt squeezed around your cock, still fitting perfectly around you while a flushed Kaveh was trying to cover his face with his neck scarf. An attempt to muffle his moans as well.

Irritated, you snatched the piece of cloth and threw it down. “Y/N! You gifted me tha-ahn!”, he moaned when a sharp thrust hit deep inside him, making Kaveh’s legs tremble a bit. You hooked an arm around his waist, pulling his figure up from the table and leaning down, mushing your bodies close again.

“Do you really think I give a fuck about that gift when all I want right now is you?”, your eyes a fiery passion, the underbags doing no justice to the emotion you’re feeling right now. “How I want to make you cum on my cock and see you cry for me after such a long time-“, you thrust again, balls deep and he chokes out a moan, “after not being able to even have your fucking fingers caress my face?”

Kaveh’s whimpers morph into a melodious tune, a songbird you wish only you were an audience to while the entire world were to be locked away from witnessing such artistry. You look down at his soft tummy and let out a soft moan, the shape of your dick clearly peeking at you through his insides.

Oh fuck, I wanna make him pregnant.

“Honey look”, kaveh follows your eyes down to his stomach and he almost felt his orgasm rushing over. Its so erotic and whorish, his body just can’t take your huge fucking dick yet his cunt stretches itself so easy like some slut just to swallow you all up. His body is way more hungry for you than he would like to accept.

“With the way my cock peeks a hi at me everytime through your stomach, I am resisting all I can to not fuck you senseless and crazy right now”, you mutter as your pace fastens and Kaveh knows your not joking because he is very well aware of how fast you can turn him into a whore. He surely doesn’t want that fact to be visible when he exits your office after all.

The way you both are clinging on to each other and rutting together as if bunnies on heat. His wails becoming louder and your moans becoming weaker. Kisses that speak more than words and actions and an “i love you” from both of you was enough to tip the other one over.

You rest your head on his shoulder while he tries to recollect his senses and boast a bashful color of red all the while trying to lecture a giggling you.

Al-haitham stands outside your door, loosening the tie around his neck and shuffling his pants to hide his boner after he just heard his best friends fuck each other like mad men. Horrible day for al-haitham.

A glowing bright day for you two!

[aha-chuu]

Al Haitham story quest confirms:

Kaveh does the house work, Al Haitham is the messy one

Kaveh is a light weight and drunkenly told half of Sumeru that he's broke and living with Al Haitham

Al Haitham is a sugar daddy but a very reluctant one (even though he's not saying no)

Kaveh does care about Al Haitham and asks if he's okay

Kaveh is very upset that Al Haitham keeps going furniture shopping without him, Al Haitham seems into retail therapy so long as it pisses Kaveh off

If you check what Al Haitham is thinking with Nahida after the quest, he is thinking about cleaning up the books that Kaveh told him to put away - so he does take what Kaveh tells him to do into account

[lovely-rubeum]

affirming word.

your first argument with al haitham is one you are sure you’ll never forget. not because of his piercing words and the cold way he stares back at you, but because of his desperate reassurance. the soft way he held you as apologies were uttered, and the gentle way he cared for every tear you shed.

a/n: waah this is my first fic on this account !! cheers ^^

w/c: ~1.5k

warnings: not proof read (im lazy my bad) mentions of arguments, insecurities. hurt/comfort

al haitham has been in maybe, one relationship before this one, you gather. there’s a certain coarseness to the way he approaches love and being in love with you that bleeds with lack of experience. it is not a slight against him, in fact, you’d consider it the furthest from that. you are honored to have been so cherished by someone who claims to not have time for trivial things. if al haitham is good at one thing, beyond mathematics or research or memorization, it is making you feel like you are not and will never be “trivial” to him. he remembers every date, he recalls every small detail, and he does everything he can, even in his busy schedule to make time for you. because you are the one he chose, and you are beyond his preconceptions about the usefulness and reason for “falling in love,” or other trifling activities.

so, when he calls you just that -- useless and pointless and trivial, it stings. and it stings for more than an hour, after the silence has settled in your shared living space and dinner has gone cold. it stings every time he looks at you, unable to control his cold and calculating frustration. even by the time said frustration is no longer directed at you but at himself for getting caught up -- for the escalation to petty insults rather than progress towards a natural solution. even as you both stand up and say you’re sorry for hurting each other and promise to listen and care. you are still left stinging. you ache all over, even as you lie in bed with him, his warm arms pulling your form close as you both whisper declarations of retreat, compromise, and love. you close your eyes and take in his scent, woody, almost a bit musky and just a twinge reminiscent of a well kept library. you would find solace here, but you cannot help but ache. your eyes sting with salt and self-admonishment as you sleep, feeling as though the two of you are left further apart than you were before.

it’s been several days now. the sounds of the bustling streets and the near silence of the akademia’s halls do nothing to comfort your still stirring heart. you see al haitham every day, you tell him you love him every day (because you do, and you’ll be damned before the aftermath of a finished argument tells you that you do not). he echoes the same, but still you think

trivial? were you nothing but pointless and foolish? did your beloved boyfriend, in times of distress, think of you as the very things he swore not to make you feel you were? it hurts to feel distant from him, but you’re sure he hasn’t noticed. in fact, you think it’s better that he hasn’t noticed. he’s a busy, busy man. and, really, he shouldn't be worried about something as frivolous as the way you feel about a pain that’s passed silently for days. you’ll get over it, because you’ve already talked and you love him and that should be enough.

but you forget, that al haitham, while not a fool, is foolishly in love with you. he is a man that gets what he needs and what he wants and when there are obstacles in his path he devises clear plans to avoid them. the only thing he would readily admit to making mistakes over is you. you and your smile that lights up his entire world, you and the way you care for him and challenge his mind in the most electrifying way. you who holds him as he sinks into the depths of his mind, and you who promises him eternity, irrational as that may be. so when you distance yourself, drowning in your own hurt, al haitham is planning. your wounds are like aching scars on his back. prickling with pain and a reminder of his failing, not to himself, but his failing to provide you with the world as you deserve. he sits in his office, stiff and cautious. what on earth could it be that has sent you away from him? what sort of thorns have coated your heart and how should he cut through them to get to you? 

you don’t think much of it, when you’re called into al haitham’s office today. you expect nothing more than an update about his findings. you’ll walk in, say hello, chat for a time until you realize you’ve veered off course and then you’ll depart with timid “i love you”s and you’ll stare into the silence as you hope for the short moment to lift your heart the way it had before it was wounded. you do not expect to see him staring anxiously at the door as you enter. you do not expect him to run a hand through his pretty gray hair and quietly ask you a question.

“could you lock the door?” you do, but you’re holding your breath. dread floods your veins and you cannot help but feel intimidated as he stands and approaches you. in an attempt to flee from your racing mind and heart, you change the subject.

“hi, dear. did you need something? i should have given you the report from—” you’re silenced by the worried look on his face. it’s a foreign expression, one where his shining, always focused eyes dart around you with a mixture of something like fear and hurt, and one where his built arms hang awkwardly at his sides as he figures out what to say first.

“there’s something wrong,” he starts. your breath hitches and you’re forced to break eye contact. al haitham frowns. “please don’t do that. please look at me.” the plea hurts your chest, but you can’t bring yourself to do just that. you try to wave it off.

“there’s nothing—” but the shake in your voice betrays you. he waits for you to open up. for you to take the first step, because your comfort is his priority, but you can tell with the tension in the air that he will cut through if you do not. al haitham gets what he needs, and what he needs more than life is your happiness. you’re sure of that now, as you look back at his expression, endlessly full of concern for you. you can’t bring yourself to lie anymore. “okay, maybe there is something.”

“may i inquire?” he says it so timidly you’d think he’s another person. you can’t stop yourself from sighing. 

“i just… it’s stupid. i don’t think it’s worth making a big deal. i’ll be over it soon.” the deadpan look on his face says otherwise.

“you have been… apart from your usual self. for longer than three nights. i’m worried about you.” al haitham’s admission is shaking, but resolute. his soothing voice quakes just the slightest bit, but he refuses to back down. you cave at his look, just as you always do.

“i‘m just… still hurt. over what you said, when we argued? i didn’t want you to feel bad since we already moved on from the problem but i keep thinking about it and hearing it in my head. you called me trivial.” al haitham pauses, as if recounting the event. you continue. “i know you probably didn’t mean it, but i can’t help but think that maybe…”

“stop,” he says with a gentleness reserved only for you. he places his hands gently on your shoulders while silently asking for permission in his gaze to pull you close. you nod, and suddenly his hand is patting the back of your head softly, as if you’re the most cherished being in the universe itself.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you feel your eyes welling up with tears as he holds you close and admits fault. he pulls away slightly, but only to dry your tears with his thumb.

“you are everything to me. and it was only foolish of me to have allowed things to progress to this point. i would move mountains and slay the worst of foes just to see you happy. i have taken away part of your smile, even for a second. and for that i am so sorry.”

there is a tenderness in his eyes. you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful expression if you tried, and it is then that you realize he is not used to wearing this expression. he is clumsy in the way he squeezes you, and although he is intelligent, he is also inept in maintaining his usual aloofness as he reassures you that you will never be a waste of his time. it is then too, that you notice the fear squandering his composure as he promises to love you for what may be the millionth time.

you relax and while you cry in his arms, you allow al haitham’s affirming word into your heart, never to be shaken again.

[meowkunas]

falling asleep on you !

w/ al haitham, wanderer, diluc, tartaglia/childe

a/n: under the cut because they got really long omg

al haitham likes to rest his head on your shoulder whenever he's tired. when it's in a more private setting, he'll lay his head in your lap instead. a loud, satisfied sigh will leave his lips once he's in this position. it's almost as though all the tenseness in his body simply dissipates once you start running your fingers through his hair. he rarely drifts off for a nap, but he looks close enough to peace when he's lying down like that.

it's the closest you'll ever get to having him be needy or clingy in any way. he tends to lean his whole weight onto you without explicit warning, so it's taken some practice to make sure you don't fall over on to one side — helplessly squashed.

there are signs to look out for.

you'll notice him staring at you out of the corner of his eye, making sure you're comfortable with how you're sitting before he places his head on your shoulder. sometimes he'll even mention that it's very "quiet and peaceful" before nearly knocking you over with a heavy slump.

when he's been kept up late for too many nights, he really will drift off to sleep. he's heavy and he makes your entire body ache from trying to hold him up, but you can't really bear to move him, especially not when he smiles in his sleep after you brush your fingers over his cheek.

he won't tell you that he always wakes from your sudden touch.

and with how cute he thinks you are when you're trying not to wake him, he doubts he ever will.

"i don't need sleep." wanderer announces proudly. it takes him exactly nine minutes to pass out after you promise that you'll keep watch while he's resting. you even make sure that he's asleep by waving your hands in front of his face to see whether his eyes twitch. nothing.

he doesn't even breathe.

his arms stay crossed over his chest and his hair falls onto one side. completely at rest.

still, this is the last thing you were expecting would happen. you resist the urge to touch his face. you haven't gotten that far with him yet.

unfortunately, you end up falling asleep beside him instead of keeping watch. there's something so comforting about his weight on yours, that you lean back into him, just to close your eyes for a few minutes.

the next time you wake is with the morning sun, and with a blanket haphazardly thrown over you. you fight with it for a bit, tangling your arms even further.

"oh good, you're up," comes the familiar, haughty voice. you expect to be berated for falling asleep, but he says something different instead. "thank you."

"huh?" you murmur intelligently. it's not fair that he does this when you're still groggy from sleeping.

he turns away, pretending he said nothing else. you smile at his back. guess he's still full of surprises.

diluc's very gentle with you. he's always been the one to beckon you over once he notices you yawning or when you look a little down. the way he caresses you while wrapping you in his arms is enough to send you straight to sleep. it's cozy.

but you've never seen him asleep before you. he's always been the one to creep back into your shared bed at the crack of dawn, when you're just awake enough to know that he's there.

this time, you're the one late.

he's already sleep — legs stretched out and turned onto one side. you take a single step forward and jump as he snores, disturbing the silence.

you crawl into the bed, facing the outline of his back. you reach out for him just to hesitate before actually touching him. what if he wakes up if you try to cuddle him? what if he has a really busy day tomorrow and he'll be frustrated with not getting enough sleep?

he answers the myriad of questions for you. just your presence must be enough for him to know you're there in his sleep. he ends up turning over to face you and bundling you up in his arms, letting out a huff. on the other hand, you're tense, unsure if you've accidentally awoken him or not.

"diluc?" you mumble.

the only answer is his steady breathing.

hope you're ready to stay squished in that same position for the whole night.

tartaglia pesters you with affection. he shows up at your door in the middle of the night sometimes, claiming he has "no where else to go right now". on certain nights, he'll be covered in blood that's definitely not his with a fiery look in his eyes as though he's set alight from the inside. he's not really there on those nights.

more often, he shows up with a cheery look on his face that disappears once you start to clean him up. you don't need to look at him to know that he's already staring at you.

tartaglia is always quiet in both types of nights; an unsettled nature or a calm energy. you're never sure what you're going to get.

but you know this: he would always show up after long periods of disappearing, even if it was just the smallest scrape. just to see you.

he'll be the one tucking himself in between your legs on the couch, no matter how many times you tell him that his legs are too long and he's way too heavy to lean back on you like that. but he does it. somehow.

when you start to grow tired from listening to his shenanigans, he becomes so gentle with you. he'll carry you to bed and hold you until you sleep.

he's gone in the morning, or maybe he leaves once he's sure that you've been lulled to sleep. either way, you know he was here. even if he tries to disappear without a trace.

he's always here on the nights that you sleep the best after all.

[starz222]

cw not proofread, wrote this w/ writers block, first time writing angst

“god, why did i have to fall for you?” al haitham slams his book down on the hardwood table in the living room. he ruffles his own hair with nothing short of a frown on his face. 

“what?” 

you stare at him from across the room. your eyes darted to his figure, and your breathing became even more shallow when you saw the disappointed look on his face. and when he looked up and stared daggers at you, followed by him immediately reverting his gaze.

“look, i didn’t mean that.” he scoffs and shifts his weight. despite his words, the way he says it completely breaks you. he barely puts any effort into his words, his voice is shallow and entirely monotone. al haitham treated you like a burden, a block in his path that he needed to get rid of immediately.

you take a deep breath before speaking. you knew your voice would tremble and your tears would start to flow once you opened your mouth, so you tried to stay calm. 

“...you did.” you speak in a brittle voice, your sight becoming blurry and your nose feeling stuffy. you gulp and furrow your brows. “i was only trying to help you—” you manage to choke out despite your sobs, “this isn’t fair. you’re not being fair.” your words tie at your throat, trying not to tear up. you can barely see anything other than the sobs causing your eyes to be unfocused, making your eyelashes burn.

“i didn’t ask for your help.” his hand reaches up to his headphones and turns them on, cancelling any noise that would come up. that action makes you blind with anger, hurt, and frustration. everything feels so suffocating, too many emotions hit you at once, and you don’t know what to do. 

“you’re impossible, al haitham.” you finally let your tears stream down your face and storm out the door. you slam the door behind you and just run. without a care where you’re going. as long as it’s not where he is. 

al haitham falls to his knees, and puts his headphones down.

he didn’t want to shout at you. he knew that you were only trying to help, but he only let things get worse. you haven’t been able to see him because of all the stress and the burdens al haitham carries as the acting grand sage. being so, the time he could spend with you ended up lessening, and lessening. 

he hadn’t seen you in so long, and he missed you opening the door of his office with a large grin on your face. all of the work and responsibilities on his shoulders rendered him tired and drained. 

he was working late at the akademiya, finishing up some paperwork. that was until you opened the door, and attempted to help him. you didn’t think that it would end up in you ruining the piles of paperwork he’s finished. 

al haitham gets up, and wastes no more time to go find you.

note this is so barf | part 2 here !

[hikari3601]

We’ll be a Fine Line

Home page

Pairing | Al Haitham x Reader

Author’s Note | I’m really sorry for the super long wait.

CW/TW | Al Haitham’s mean :(

Synopsis | Flinching away from him during an argument.

The line between distance and disregard is a fine one, something that Al Haitham seemed to have overlooked. The Scribe -who lives off of rationality as if it were air, found that space seemed to be the most efficient means towards a peaceful resolution during conflict, yet it all turned sour somewhere down the line and worst of all, its toxicity was so steadily progressive that it only became noticeable when it was nigh impossible to ignore it.

Several arguments had passed without any form of resolution and with every person in the Academia five seconds away from an aneurysm, as Acting Grand, Sage Al Haitham was not in the best of moods.

~~

“Haitham.” You called from behind the door, patiently waiting with his lunch in hand, yet silence was all that ensued in the following moments, thus you called again, a little louder this time…still nothing.

Deciding to try your luck at entering you turned the handle, perhaps he had an errand to run and was out for a bit, you thought.

Fortunately, the door was unlocked, and lo and behold sat Al Haitham at his desk, hair slightly tousled and his cape laying on the couch. He looked up at you questioningly. “Can I help you Y/N?”

“I knocked to see if you were in.” You explained, “I guess you didn’t hear me.”

He remained unmoving for several seconds, his eyes trained on the papers in front of him and after he placed the page down he allowed his gaze to briefly flicker towards you. “I heard it.”

Taking a few steps towards into the office, you took note of the cold atmosphere surrounding him but decided against commenting. “Why didn’t you answer?” You asked instead, placing his favourite meal on his desk.

“I was busy.” He deadpanned, eyes glued on the new page in front of him.

Your gaze drifted across his large frame, “When was the last time you slept?” You inquired, noting the dark circles on the skin surrounding his turquoise eyes.

“I took a little nap some few hours ago.”

A frown took form on your lips. “A nap in your office doesn’t count. When was the last time you got over five hours of sleep in your bed.” You urged, your frustration growing at his dismissive attitude.

He sighed, laying his papers on his desk with a loud ‘slap’ and looking up at you with a slight glare. “What is it you came for Y/N, unlike you I’m busy.”

“I’m here to check up on you Al Haitham.” You felt your aggravation grow in spite of your efforts to remain level-headed. “You’ve been working non stop and I’m worried about you.”

“Well, as you can see Y/N I’m perfectly well. Now, if you would kindly leave my office—“

“Why are you being like this?” You finally sighed, your patience beginning to waver.

“Because I have work to do. I don’t have time to laze around with you.”

“Laze around with me?” You echoed. “I may not be the Acting Grand Sage, Al Haitham, but that doesn’t mean I’m not working. I stop what I’m doing every day just to see if you’re alright…because Archons know that if I don’t, you’d be skipping meals daily!”

“I’m not some child Y/N, I don’t need you to look after me, now if you would please leave my office, I’m wasting time with this discussion.”

“How on earth do you think it’s right to treat people like this?” You snapped, the festering heat in your chest reaching its peak. “I’m worried about you because I care!”

“If you really cared…” He rose from his seat, approaching you with a steadiness that left you uneasy. “you would have left Y/N instead of wasting my time!”

His last words echoed throughout the room, but what was truly deafening to the man was your reaction —the way you stepped away from him as if preparing to flee.

Groaning at his actions, he lifted a hand to his already dishevelled hair in a poor attempt to calm his racing mind but watched in horror as you flinched.

Disgust soon washed over him like a tidal wave.

You thought he would hurt you?

Archons, he did hurt you… though not physically. It dawned on him that he had been treating you abrasively for the last few months, yet you still remained nothing short of kind and patient towards him.

He didn’t deserve you, he thought, yet a part of him selfishly feared that you’d leave him after today.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed, and although his voice had grown soft, his eyes trembled with unspoken words of guilt and regret, the sight stubbornly pulling at your heart until you bridged the gap between the two of you and quietly took him into your arms.

He hesitated to reciprocate, worried that he’d cause you more alarm, but all it took was you tightening your hold around his torso for him to wrap his arms around you, settling his head against the crook of your neck.

“I didn’t mean it, I swear. I’m sorry.”

[saetoru]

al-haitham’s the kind of guy who tilts his head slightly for a kiss before you even lean in to give him one. he just knows it’s coming. expects it. trusts it’ll happen.

he’s yawning when he sits at the table for breakfast, hair slightly disheveled from sleep. he sits down and when you place the mug of coffee in front of him, his head angles a little for that kiss you place on his cheek.

he’s drowned in endless paperwork at the akademiya when you stop by to visit, chuckling when he gives you that look of despair at the all the work he has to do. you don’t even manage to walk up to him fully before he’s leaning in and waiting for the kiss to the top of his head.

he’s shirtless in the bathroom, brushing his teeth at night when you walk in to brush yours too, bumping hips with his as you giggle. you don’t even have to turn before he’s tilting his head so he’s exposed and ready for that gentle peck you leave at his jaw.

“have you ever noticed how demanding you are for these,” you chuckle one day, pressing a kiss to his cheek to prove your point.

he grunts, leaning in and burying his head into your neck as you greet him at the door after a long day. “what makes you say that,” he mumbles.

“you’re ready for one before i’ve even come close,” you grin, “what if one day i don’t kiss you?”

“you’d stop kissing me?” he asks, squeezing your hips as he nuzzles into your neck. something tells you he already knows your answer.

and he’s warm. he’s close. he’s here and he’s everything all at once. he’s all you need and everything you’ve ever wanted. he’s the messy hair of your mornings and the pouty lips of your afternoons and that shirtless back of every night. he meets you halfway—maybe even takes the first step so you don’t have to.

he leans in for that kiss before you do. because he needs you, wants you, loves you—and he never lets you forget it. so you turn your head, press your lips against the side of his head and run your fingers through his hair as he sighs in content.

“no,” you hum, falling in love all over again, “no i’d never stop kissing you.”

[earthtooz]

in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.

quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc

there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.

it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there. 

for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.

you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first. 

as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away. 

“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”

“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham. 

“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.” 

shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.

not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.

there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere. 

“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”

his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.

“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”

“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.

as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.

with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too. 

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[silkjade]

alhaitham x mermaid!reader (5) / epilogue

⤀ warnings: fem!reader, no pronouns mentioned, reader has hair long enough to be pinned, kissing ! a/n: recommended to read the previous parts first, since this is a direct continuation. tiny reference to a sumeru hidden quest prev ﾉ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

For the first time in months, Alhaitham returns to the little cove out by the waters of port ormos. He tosses a chunk of crystal ore, testing the weight—once, twice—before catching it again in the palm of his hand. It skips thrice before sinking below the surface, and internally, he's quite pleased with this exceptional display of muscle memory.

The cyan stone sinks, further and further down into the darkness of the midnight sea, until it lands softly into the palms of your hands, weightless. Despite the long pause in your correspondence, you've never forgotten how the waves shift in response to his disturbance. So when you had sensed that familiar movement rippling through the water, you swam towards the source, smiling because you knew.

“Drown anyone in my absence?”

“No, but that can change depending on what you’ve brought for me today.”

Emerging from the shallows, you sit yourself atop a nearby rock. The water droplets clinging to your skin and tail catch like crystals in the moonlight, and alhaitham has half a mind to pinch himself and confirm that you’re neither a dream, nor another desert mirage.

“Zaytun peaches. Your favorite,” he begins, “and golden roses from Aaru Village.”

You brush the tip of your finger along the flower’s velvet petals, so brilliantly gold, as if he’d stolen the sun right out of the sky.

“The desert was too harsh an environment for sumeru roses to grow, so an amurta researcher set about cultivating one that could.”

Voice softening, Alhaitham continues as his hands unfurl to reveal the hairpin he had once gifted you. “As promised…”

You can feel the lingering warmth of his touch on the metal as you wrap delicate fingers around the piece, re-admiring the florid craftsmanship. It's still as beautiful as you remember, maybe even more so, considering how you've longed for this moment to come.

You brush your thumb over the mysterious symbols carved on the centermost gem, pulsing with a soft ember's glow.

“It’s a protective rune I discovered in the desert. As long as you wear it, you won’t have to worry about needing to return to the sea.”

Perhaps that would explain why it somehow feels sturdier. Or why the nagadus emeralds appear to shine brighter, and more vibrant. You purse your lips in an attempt to quell the thrumming in your chest. He really did it. He really found a solution to something so seemingly impossible.

Alhaitham clears his throat, snapping you from your thoughts. "May I...?"

Nodding, you turn around as he takes the accessory, shifting his fingers through your hair before pinning it in place, a vast improvement from his very first attempt.

"Well, how does it look?"

"It’s beautiful on you.”

Heat blooms in your cheeks, taken aback my his forwardness. His reply hadn’t missed a single beat, answering as if he’d stated a fact rather than an opinion. Sure, you had expected some sort of witty remark tossed into his words, but rarely did he ever outright compliment you so directly.

Turning your head, you successfully avert your gaze; it's the only way you know how to deal with this sudden bout of bashfulness, but his fingers brush your chin, and you follow as he leads you back to him. Alhaitham closes a large hand over your own — his grip steady like his heartbeat, firm like his resolve.

Teal eyes bore into yours, shifting only to linger on your lips for far longer than he should've. How he longs for another taste... The faint glow of a blush dusts across his cheeks and onto the tips of his ears. He must pull himself together before his mind has the chance to stray further.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs, leaning in.

Your breaths mingle in the little space between your face and his, but you pull away at the last minute—just the slightest bit—so that his lips catch the air instead.

“Why should I?”

Alhaitham straightens, taking in your look of feigned apathy, clearly given away by that playful layer of expectancy brocaded in your expression. Of course you want to hear him say it; he's made you wait long enough.

The corners of his mouth lift into that phantom of a smile, one you’ve come to adore so much: small and sly, daring and charming in a way unique only to him.

“Because I love you.”

“And I’m yours, if you’ll still have me,” he adds, confidence unwavering.

There's no hiding the delight and relief that breaks across your features. Your heart soars, and the single breath exhaled during this time-frozen lull, lifts it to impossible heights. Finally.

You don't shy away this time when he comes in to kiss you, grinning at how right it feels. His hands grab at your waist, pulling you closer, eager to deepen the kiss. He's missed you, missed your touch, and of how you taste so sweet, like nectar from the garden of the gods... but you break away.

"Can you say it again?" Your soft laughter rings through the air, and Alhaitham rolls his eyes, indulging you nonetheless.

"I love you," he repeats, stealing another kiss in the process. And then once more, for good measure, during the quick moment of air between his barrage of kisses, interrupted only by your yelp of surprise, as he scoops you up into his arms.

“Well?” He looks at you expectantly, a brow raised and a smirk dancing on his lips. You giggle as your hand curves along the side of his face, guiding his mouth to yours once again.

“I love you too, Haitham.”

a/n2: the golden rose is actually a reference to a hidden quest in aaru village! i thought it was a cool metaphor hehe ^^ it’s a super easy quest chain + u get a pretty teapot decoration at the end :D

a/n3: and that’s a wrap ! i hope you’ve enjoyed this lil series as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it hehe tbh i was a bit nervous since the last part flopped, but in the end it doesn’t rlly matter ^^;; cus i read every single one of your comments / rb tags and i rlly appreciate them all so so much (இ﹏இ`｡) && while this is the end of this story, my ask is always open for more brainrots ‘n whatnot ! who knows i may write xtras lol ANYWAYS tysm for reading & sticking around ‘til the end ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[vivalabunbun]

There Are Nothing But Flowers

Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.

Word Count: 11.3K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader,  TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy. 

Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy. 

Side note: the aftermath

“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.

“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.

“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.

The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.

“Have a good day at work, my love.”

—

A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.

Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you? 

Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy. 

“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters. 

“Hello, doctor.” 

Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.

Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.

“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”

What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’? 

“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.” 

What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’? 

“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.” 

What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for? 

The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.

From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold. 

“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.

The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them. 

Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.

Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say? 

As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls. 

Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.

Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.

Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.

Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.

Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.

Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope. 

The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home. 

You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps. 

Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again? 

Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star. 

Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?

Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?

Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana? 

Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over? 

Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath. 

No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you. 

There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do? 

The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey. 

Oh, he’s at his desk tonight. 

Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.

Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line. 

Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme. 

Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans. 

Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer? 

He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view. 

He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies. 

Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything. 

You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.

He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light. 

It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts. 

What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?

Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?

Is that why he’s so eager to leave?

Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call. 

Could you be that someone? 

“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava. 

“Mmm…”

The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.

“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”

“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes. 

Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips. 

“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava. 

A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?

–

“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in. 

“Ugh, his office is right across from you.” 

“Who?”

“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.” 

So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue. 

“Oh? How come?” 

“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience. 

“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out. 

“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.” 

“Mm, really?” 

“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece. 

Success. 

–

The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.

After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law. 

Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.

It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.

As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures. 

Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.

Name: Alhaitham

Species: Vampire (Born)

Title: Secretary

Years At Company: 168

Fingers clicked on the next tab. 

“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.” 

Eyes moved to the next tab.

“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.” 

--

Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number. 

Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts. 

There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead. 

The universal signal for rejection. 

The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.

However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light. 

In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always. 

How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness. 

If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious. 

Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock. 

“Is there something you need, ma’am?”

“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”

Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you. 

Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press? 

It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.  

–

The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.

A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check. 

There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?

What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?

Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too? 

Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled. 

The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.

Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted. 

“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer. 

“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you. 

“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag. 

“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”

“Is his schedule occupied right now?” 

“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”  

“Please, Madam Faruzan?” 

You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips. 

“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk. 

“Thank you.” 

Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination. 

When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.

From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words. 

Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.

As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty. 

“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile. 

The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience. 

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.” 

The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response. 

“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.

The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal. 

You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters. 

“What are your demands?” 

“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.

Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door. 

–

In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form. 

“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn���t glance up from the paper.

“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.” 

“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?” 

“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.

“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form. 

You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure. 

“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on. 

“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”

“You only need to feed once every two months?”

“Yes, would that be an issue?” 

Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them. 

“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.” 

“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question. 

The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing. 

“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict. 

It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink. 

“Oh?... May I ask why?”

“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.” 

Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings. 

He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent. 

“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall. 

Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain. 

“Yes.” 

“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.” 

And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone. 

Success. 

—

“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables. 

“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze. 

Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved. 

However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them. 

Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips. 

“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?” 

–

That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict. 

Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon. 

The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded. 

“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends. 

“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.

They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.

Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends. 

You’re the only selfish one. 

There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.

–

One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.

When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy. 

–

Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen. 

“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?” 

“No.” 

Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.

He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies. 

–

Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.

It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.

No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life. 

–

Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.

You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show. 

The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one. 

–

“Haitham,” you called out. 

Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more. 

“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips. 

“Thank you.” He takes his place. 

You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious. 

Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing. 

“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.

“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite. 

Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal. 

You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest. 

A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now. 

It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname. 

He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature. 

He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.

The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part. 

He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand. 

You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.

Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.

Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know. 

Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations. 

If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.

Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony. 

Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.

Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame. 

The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower. 

This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue. 

You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.

You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now? 

Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable. 

The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh? 

The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?

Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call. 

“Hello?”

“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?” 

“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house. 

From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile. 

“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?” 

“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.” 

“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood. 

“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension. 

“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.” 

Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite. 

“Oh? That serious, what did they do?” 

“He turned his lover.” 

Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise. 

The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew. 

“Oh?” 

“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.” 

“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm. 

“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.” 

“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.” 

She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line. 

“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular. 

–

The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears. 

In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.

If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well. 

It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses. 

–

It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post. 

Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you. 

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command. 

“I went drinking with coworkers.”

You know, you could smell it on him. 

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”

Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.

In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes. 

What went wrong with the script? 

You. 

It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly. 

Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of. 

But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance. 

This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.

It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold. 

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed. 

Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes. 

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.” 

Another deep exhale from him. 

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.” 

The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib. 

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers. 

What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband. 

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted. 

You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes. 

Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit. 

“Welcome home, Haitham.” 

“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters. 

The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps. 

It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.

“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts. 

You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes. 

“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?” 

What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by. 

“Do you not like flowers?” 

“Their fragrance is overbearing.” 

Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh? 

“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting. 

“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips. 

Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband. 

“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back. 

Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining. 

“Woah??-” 

Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.

Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you. 

The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed. 

“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.

There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.

“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones. 

“It’s a garden after all.” 

“Pfft!”

The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath. 

Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions. 

“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips. 

This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie. 

–

How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time. 

Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours. 

Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.

How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?

Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves. 

It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness. 

Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts

“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.

Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script. 

“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle. 

Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips. 

“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them. 

Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue. 

“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.

The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.

“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning. 

There was a sigh that filled the distance between you. 

“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness. 

“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.” 

 It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.

The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.

“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out. 

Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch. 

To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural. 

“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence. 

“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer. 

His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?

It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.

“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt. 

There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them. 

“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push. 

A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch. 

You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked. 

Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat. 

More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise. 

“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear. 

“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers. 

“How lewd.” 

“You don’t like it?”

Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs. 

“Do I seem displeased?” 

Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.

Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience. 

As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo. 

Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp. 

“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed. 

Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips. 

Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth. 

Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears. 

  Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue. 

He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to. 

Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help. 

“S-slower.”

Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy. 

Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture. 

Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.

Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch. 

You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too. 

Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.

Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop. 

Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist. 

“Brazen girl,” he snarls. 

You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before? 

Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.

“Beg.”

Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving. 

“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue. 

Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length. 

Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.

Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven. 

Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.

Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours. 

He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.

It’s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good? 

Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.

Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook. 

Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.

Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes. 

The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.

His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core. 

A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest. 

Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.

Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him. 

Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows. 

Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back. 

The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.

A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice. 

Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.

This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.

Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it. 

“I was born a human,” you began.

Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum. 

“I will die as one.”

With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.

Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated. 

After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.

No, you’re too selfish for that.

Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones. 

What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.

Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight. 

As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling. 

Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.

It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions. 

It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now. 

You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.

Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality. 

Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.

“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets. 

Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.

Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat. 

“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?” 

As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist. 

“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.” 

You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you. 

“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery. 

Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb. 

Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.

“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him. 

Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah. 

Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home. 

Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist. 

A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.

All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd. 

A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.

However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.

Even your own body had enough of your selfishness. 

Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall. 

It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.  

The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.

Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.

Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs. 

The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.

Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.

That’s no good. 

Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.

The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper. 

Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues. 

Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.

At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is. 

A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come. 

Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.

Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”

“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.

Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.

“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision. 

After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh? 

In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.

Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier. 

The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.

What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.

Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.

What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?

Nothing.

A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside. 

Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through. 

So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind. 

You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him. 

Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom. 

It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek. 

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 

[b4tboys]

alhaitham + being a bookworm couple

(having major haitham brainrot and i don’t even like him that much. now i need a bookworm boyfriend to cuddle and read with 💔)

while you and alhaitham were both book lovers you never anticipated that love would be the driving force behind your relationship with him.

time spent with each other is normally you spread across his lap with your book and his hand playing with your hair while he enjoys his book. sometimes it’s laying in bed, head on his chest while he reads aloud his informative akademiya book to lull you to sleep.

dates with him are occasionally to the bookstore, he lets you pick out any book(s) AND pays. he’ll take you to the cafe cracking open the new book he selected. other times you’ll visit him at the grand sage office with dinner and a leisure (to him) book, not overtly romantic but the two of you know that any time spent together is good enough.

he takes your book recommendations very seriously. it doesn’t matter if it’s a cheesy romance, tearjerker, or text book outside his expertise he’ll read it earnestly and tell you his thoughts on it. will also sometimes read over your shoulder as he rests his chin there and wraps his arms around you from behind.

it’s almost a guilty pleasure of his to write you notes within his annotations. more of his sappy stuff is in books he knows you’ll almost never touch and as such he doesn’t exactly want to let others borrow them. when he does know you’ll read it after him, he highlights parts and writes little notes like “i bet you laughed at that” “you read it like that too right?” “this reminds me of you” “we should try this”.

should you read it before him and lend him your copy, the notes can be similar, though yours tend to focus a lot more on the actual text. “AH the callback to chapter one!” “he just stated the same thing like three different times….” “you would absolutely say that unironically” “this guy is so pretentious, you should revoke his study funds” and even more cheesy notes like “you’re my ideal male lead” “please do the door frame lean?” “i want to kiss you in the rain now”.

probably asked you out through a series of notes placed in different books, the last one placed in a favorite of yours and the line reading: “i think i like you, a lot.”

alhaitham is just a perfect bookworm boyfriend. he carries your books, pays for them and loves them in the same way you do. your mutual love for books just fuels his adoration and affection.

[hiraya-rawr]

everywhere, everything – alhaitham

synopsis !! somehow, you find yourself stuck in a broom closet with your academic rival, alhaitham— and oh? is that a mistletoe?

contains !! 2.4k wc , gn reader, enemies to lovers? fluffy drama! dialogue-centric post, some intimacy (obviously)— lots of fluffy love. flustered things, alhaitham can't hold back okay- FOR SOME REASON IM NERVOUS ABOUT POSTING THIS IDK the outline was way longer than I thought, hence the late Christmas post

note !! i joined my first christmas collab event by @dustofthedailylife ! aaaaah and im also practicing scenario events where the setting is restricted (like a broom closet heheh)

11:46 PM, Christmas Eve

You shouldn't have listened to Kaveh. It's his party, in his (shared) house, yet you nodded along when he told you to grab a broom from the closet. It sounded simple enough—

Walking over to the broom closet at the end of the hall, away from the bustling party in the livingroom. Grabbing the handle, pulling it open, almost shrieking when you spotted the actual homeowner standing with the most irked expression on his face, then—

There are hands on your back, shoving you in as the closet door slams, the bang muffled by loud music. Your breath catches in surprise. Your face plants firmly on the forbidden chest. There are clicking noises outside the door handle.

In front of you, Alhaitham scowls and you can practically feel the anger radiating off of him.

"Did- did Kaveh just—" You stutter, still confused from the whirlwind of events that happened within seconds.

"Yes. He did. That bastard, I swear I'll-"

You drown out the insults and threats spewing from his mouth as you turn to look around. The closet is small, very small, the type that shouldn't have people in it in the first place.

The door is firmly on your back and you can feel that Alhaitham's own back is up against the shelves. Next to you stand a broom and mop, taking up the remaining space in the room. It's dark and you could barely tell what's in front of you (this firm thing. . . it is his chest, right?).

"How long have you been here?" You wonder out loud.

"5 wasted minutes. After he knocked over a bowl of chips and told me to get a broom. Honestly, that imbecile–"

"He told me to get a broom for the chips too! What the heck. This was premeditated!"

"Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out."

Your eyes narrow at his comment, glaring at what you suppose was his face.

"If you're so genius, you could have escaped the second he opened up that door."

"Ha, I could have if it weren't for a certain someone getting shoved into me."

"I'm not a wrecking ball, Scribe Haitham." You scoff, shifting to face him better. Of all the people to get pranked with, it just had to be your academic rival —from the day you received second place in the akademiya entrance exams to the day you both proposed the exact same thesis topic— he was always a step ahead and that infuriated you.

5 years ago, Entrance Exam Results Day

Of course, it wasn’t that he’s a smidge better than you that you hate him; rather, it’s because he acts like he’s so much better than anyone else that you hated him — from staring you down the day you tried to congratulate him on getting first place, to refusing to cooperate together despite having the same thesis topic — you believe your reasons for hating him are quite valid.

“You’re Alhaitham, right? Congratulations on receiving first place on the exams!” You greet cheerfully, a hand extended for him to shake. It was the first day commemorating the start of your academic life and you figured you might as well surround yourself with the right crowd.

Yet, he stays frozen, an odd squint in his eyes and you wonder if you should keep your hand out longer.

“It was to be expected.” He states simply, lightly shrugging, before returning to the book he was reading.

To be expected? First place? In Teyvat’s most prestigious academic institution? The one you toiled day and night in, consuming mountain loads of information, just to deserve your rank? Internally, you decided that you didn’t like him and that he’s an arrogant piece of sh– no, good thoughts (Name), you should befriend your schoolmates.

“Hahaha is that so? I guess you really must be smart,” You force a laugh, retrieving your hand, “If you don’t know yet, I’m–“

“I know you. You’re the one who received second on the exams.”

Okay. It’s official. He’s an arrogant piece of shit.

You grit your teeth, smiling, “. . . It was nice meeting you, Alhaitham. See you when lectures start.”

11:53 PM, Christmas Eve

". . . Stop moving." He tells you.

"What?"

"I said stop moving."

"I'm literally just breathing here, do you want me to stop that too?"

"You're squirming like a worm. Do you want to knock over chemicals off their shelves?”

Oh yeah, this was a broom closet.

"I can't help it when you're taking up all the space!" You huff in his direction, trying to get a clearer view of him with squinted eyes in the dark.

"Unless you want to kiss me, I suggest you stop trying to shove your face into mine as well."

You feel your face heat up, a stutter evident in your voice, "W-what? Why on Teyvat would I ever want that!"

"It's a statement, I never said you wanted it." He scoffs. It was getting warmer in the room, the inescapable warmth of him spreading to you and you wonder if your heartbeat was always this loud. You shuffle uncomfortably, how could he even insinuate that? This arrogant guy!

Maybe it was the small space getting to you, or the tension of being so close to someone you clearly feel contempt for, but you couldn’t stop the next words you say.

“Maybe you’re the one who wants to kiss me! How would I know you didn’t plan this with your roommate?” You jibe back, “Honestly, what kind of homeowner gets trapped in their own broom closet!”

“First of all, we both know -as Kaveh’s mutual friend- that he’s a bastard with his mind in the gutters. This is all his mastermind plan. Secondly, if you want to kiss me that badly, you don't even have to provoke me. by starting a fight.” Before you could even respond to that (or manage to comprehend it), you feel him shuffling back, his muscular torso moving to the whims of his arm as it presses against your own chest.

You unknowingly hold your own breath. Thump, thump, thump– is that his heart or yours?

A sound of a chain, metal clinking, reaches your ears.

“H-hold on, what are you doing?!” You panic, flustered.

“I’m trying to grab the pull-switch for a light, what do you think I’m doing?” He all but hisses back, “Now hold still—”

Light floods the room at the clicking sound, blinding you temporarily.

"—Oh, how convenient, there's a mistletoe above us. Now here's your chance to kiss me." You hear him say and you freeze, quickly glancing up at the bright bulb to see the unmistakable mistletoe hanging next to it. Your jaw drops slightly.

"I— I am not kissing you! I told you that!" You exclaim, hands trying to shove him away for what little space you could muster. Kaveh is dead once you get out of here, you think to yourself.

You hear him scoff, "Again, I was only teasing you-"

"Then I suggest you stop!"

"-but I'd rather not reject tradition."

"W-what?"

5 years ago, Entrance Exam Results Day

Alhaitham believes in love. He understands everything about it– from the chemical compositions to the process. He understands the build up of love.

Naturally, it began when he saw your name only second to his first rank. It wasn't anything particularly special, you were a few points below the prodigy and he found it curious how someone managed to keep up with his wits.

“You’re Alhaitham, right? Congratulations on receiving first place on the exams!”

He's frozen. He knows he's staring. There's a hand outstretched for him yet he hasn't willed his own to take it. It's only for a second but internally, he recognizes the lapse in his act. Say something, Alhaitham, say it now–

“It was to be expected.” He states simply, lightly shrugging, before returning to the book he was reading. It lays flat on his hand and he rereads the same sentence, conscious of your presence next to him. He tries to rationalize– he finds you attractive, you seem to be his type, and it's natural for a man such as himself to eventually feel such things and react this way. Not even he, as logical as he is, could be an independent variable for love.

“Hahaha is that so? I guess you really must be smart,” You laugh and he finds the sound pleasant but forced as you retrieve your hand. “If you don’t know yet, I’m–“

He knows you. He saw your name and looked up the basic credentials already, it's natural as the soon-to-be-top student of your batch.

“I know you. You’re the one who received second on the exams.”

“. . . It was nice meeting you, Alhaitham. See you when lectures start.”

It seems he didn't make a good first impression; but that's fine, logically, he has no plans to act on his feelings anyway. As the elders would say– studies first before lovers.

5 years ago, Thesis Proposal Day

Logic was harder to act on when love was the opponent –as Alhaitham later realized– because, Archons, were you difficult to get rid of.

He notices you– everywhere. This shouldn't be surprising considering your similar academic strands and ranks, but that was exactly the issue! He was hyperaware of everything you did and what you would next do.

Alhaitham believes in love. He knows of all the ridiculous tropes, unable to escape the concept of it as it floats around even in one of the most highly rational spaces in Teyvat. He had no plans of pursuing love, it isn't something he wanted to fit into his intricate schedule,

Yet, he feels pulled by it.

He sees you in class, the seat next to you empty, and he wants to take it but he doesn't.

He bumps into you in the halls, your hands carrying stacks of research materials, but you could handle yourself as he glances the other way.

You ask him, almost hesitantly, shyly, if he would like to pair up for one of the most important thesis projects in your lives and– he flat out refuses, because -archons forbid- the remnants of his discipline and self-control be lost over sleepless nights with you next to him, working on something you both proposed.

No, he would not have that. It's not a part of his life plan (you aren't part of his life plan).

Yet, as he passes out papers in class, people's hands brushing against his, he can't help but compare yours– your hand, your fingers brushing on his, skin on skin, he feels it in his nerve receptors, electric despite not electrifying– yours is felt so much more than how he felt the others and he can't describe how.

12:00 AM, Christmas Day

And he feels it again now. The hyperawareness of you on him, like the day your fingers brushed– this illogical, subtle, uncontrollable feeling.

It must be love, he tells himself. He understands love and everything about it and it infuriates him.

But the closet is too small, you're much too close, he wants to do something. Then– he remembers. A mistletoe. Kaveh hung a mistletoe in the broom closet. Mentally, he knew this all along, but now it was becoming increasingly obvious that a mistletoe existed above him (Above you. Above you and him).

Thump, thump, thump– it's his heart beating. He shuffles to reach a chain, he needs to see it to believe it (that a mistletoe is there) but what good would that do? Is it to simply show you? To see how you'd react? A chance for him to act on these frantic feelings?

Love is illogical, it's breaking the bottle he so carefully closed.

“H-hold on, what are you doing?!” You panic, flustered.

“I’m trying to grab the pull-switch for a light, what do you think I’m doing?” He replies and he hopes he doesn't sound too rushed, “Now hold still—”

Light floods the room at the clicking sound, and it blinds him temporarily, but he feels everything– you being there, your clothes brushing against his and your skin on his, everything and everything–

–and the mistletoe, there.

"Oh, how convenient, there's a mistletoe above us. Now here's your chance to kiss me." He says and time unmistakably slows for him. His heart is steady, as if acting on his feelings were the only way to calm his fight with himself.

You look up at him frantically, "I— I am not kissing you! I told you that!" You exclaim, hands trying to shove him away for what little space you could muster.

He scoffs, "Again, I was only teasing you-"

"Then I suggest you stop!"

"-but I'd rather not reject tradition."

"W-what?"

You freeze as he tests the waters. He understands love, he understands all the tropes, the build-up, the chemicals, but -holy dendro archon- is he taking risks.

"I'm asking if I could kiss you."

"Wha-what!"

"You're repeating your words now. Would you like me to ask again or should I give you time to clear your ears?"

Under the warm light, he sees you visibly gulp. He can't help the way he leans in closer, an arm resting on the door beside your head.

"I don't need to clear my ears! I just- I thought you, well, hated me," You hurriedly reply, looking away from his own gaze. The floor is way more interesting, it seems.

"Hated you? Whoever said that?"

"W-well, you acted as though you did. Always avoiding me, always pulling away–"

"I'm not pulling away now, am I?" As if to prove his point, he leans closer, slipping his fingers under your chin to face him directly, "But it seems like you're the one shying away."

You're sure you stopped breathing at some point.

"To be fair, I was trying to avoid you back then. But not in the way that you think." His thumb brushes over your lower lip, "It was never because I hated you. In fact, it's quite the opposite."

Silence lingers in the air at his subtle confession. At the lack of a reply, Alhaitham sighs, "If I'm making you uncomfortable, we can break this door down and yo-"

"I'm not uncomfortable!" You blurt out, "I- I just didn't think you- you felt this way."

"Then may I?"

"May you?" You repeat questioningly.

"Mistletoe." He states and stiffly, he feels the slightest nod of your head on his fingers and–

The door swings open.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, LOVEBIRDS! How are we doing? Is my dear housemate finally getting some action in his bleak life?"

"KAVEH!!!"

prompt !! "oh, how convenient, there's a mistletoe above us."

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