Chapter Text
In hindsight, the striking display of color in the form of a person standing at Alhaitham's doorstep shouldn't have surprised him at all.
"Hi! Alhaitham, right?" The man offered out his hand, which was covered in rings of all sizes, most of them golden. Alhaitham eyed his bracelets, long earrings and loose clothing, wondering if everything he wore was meant to dangle and twinkle in such a distracting manner. "Nice to meet you!” the man exclaimed, his voice a little too loud, grin a little too bright. “I'm Kaveh."
This had been Cyno's idea—or perhaps his idea of a joke. A few weeks ago, Alhaitham had told him about his upcoming eye surgery, revealing more about his personal life than he would on a normal day, at least unprompted. That should have been his first clue that the news from his optometrist had upset him more than he’d initially realized.
"One month?!" Cyno had raised his eyebrows, his lunch momentarily forgotten. "Even I don't know if I could go without screens that long."
"Not just screens," Alhaitham corrected him, almost letting out a frustrated sigh. If only. With the right arguments, Alhaitham was sure it would barely take any effort if one wished to convince him to throw his phone in the trash forever—he'd never quite managed to see any flaws in the so-called "hermit lifestyle".
No, it wasn't the lack of pixels that would bother him.
"Books," he muttered into his plate. "My optometrist doesn't want me reading anything until the recovery period is done."
"Oh," said Cyno, processing his words—and what they meant for Alhaitham. "Yikes. You'll be bored out of your mind in three days."
That's too generous, thought Alhaitham, grimly playing with his food as he tried and failed to compile a list of alternative ways to pass his time. Cyno’s voice interrupted him as he mentally dismissed idea 25—crocheting. I’d need to shop for materials and study enough tutorials beforehand, since I won’t be using any screens, he pondered. And I’m likely to run out of room in my closet for whatever I end up making. I barely have any need for new winterwear as it is.
"Hey, remember last week when I went to that birthday party?” Cyno asked, and Alhaitham needed a moment to blink as he tuned back into the conversation. “For Tighnari's little niece?"
Alhaitham nodded. Vaguely, he didn't say.
"They hired a book reader. That friend of Tighnari's, Kaveh—I’ve mentioned him before. I was skeptical of the idea, to be honest, but the kids seemed to love him." He shrugged. "Maybe you could hire him, too."
"I'll pass," had been Alhaitham’s dry answer, dismissing it as another one of Cyno's strange jokes.
Two weeks later, however—only eight days into his surgery recovery period—Alhaitham found himself sending Cyno a voice message asking for the book reader's contact information. And now here he was, answering his door to a cheerful-looking man who read books to children for a living, his colorful earrings glinting in the afternoon light.
This was such a ridiculous idea.
"Oh, wait." The reader—Kaveh—cringed, hesitantly retreating his outstretched hand when it went unshaken a few seconds too long. Oops. He’d gotten distracted. But then Kaveh spread his fingers wide and moved them from side to side before Alhaitham's eyes. "You can see me, right? It's hard to tell with the sunglasses."
Alhaitham scoffed.
"These are prescription dark glasses," he corrected him, wondering if rolling his eyes went against the rules for his recovery. He decided not to risk it, making a mental note to ask his optometrist about it later. "And yes, I can see you. I'm supposed to rest my eyes as much as I can, but that doesn't mean walking around with them closed. If that were the case, then there’d be no point in wearing the glasses in the first place."
Kaveh opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, his big smile waning. "...Right," he said after a few heartbeats. "Silly me."
His reaction wasn't anything Alhaitham hadn’t witnessed, time and time again, whenever people were put off by his straightforwardness. It hardly bothered him at this point. "Come on in," he said, standing aside to give Kaveh room.
After another moment of hesitation, in which Kaveh seemed to be looking for something in Alhaitham's eyes, his expression morphed into resignation—probably because said eyes weren’t any more visible now than they’d been five seconds ago. He entered the apartment without another word.
Alhaitham led the way into his study, which—
"Woah," exclaimed Kaveh as he took in the room, his wide, curious eyes already exploring every title on display. "How does a college student afford a personal library?"
Alhaitham once again refrained from rolling his eyes. "If three shelves are enough for you to deem this a library, I wonder if you'd call a candle a forest fire."
"Oh, please." Kaveh dismissed Alhaitham's words with a wave of his hand, although his eyes flashed with something akin to irritation. He gestured dramatically, his arms encompassing the whole room. "There's books everywhere! If some brave soul were to clean this whole mess, they’d need way more than three shelves. That pile over there is, like, two books short of reaching the ceiling!"
It occurred to Alhaitham that the man was being unprofessional. Strangely, he found himself letting it slide. His job is to read books for children. I shouldn't expect him to behave like a diplomat, he reasoned, searching one of the piles that were, indeed, scattered all around the room (although in an orderly manner, since he was still able to find whatever title he desired). Later, he would also realize this had been the first time he hadn't felt bored in a week, which might explain why Kaveh’s behavior didn’t bother him as much as it should. But later wasn’t now.
“Still not a library,” he said.
“Debatable,” Kaveh spat back, not missing a beat. “Do you even know how many books it takes for a collection to be considered a library?”
No. He didn’t.
He glanced behind him at Kaveh, raising an eyebrow.
“Do you?”
“I—” Kaveh stuttered. “It’s why I said ‘debatable’! I’m sure there isn’t even an official number. Hold up, I’ll google it.” He started reaching for his pocket.
“Don’t bother,” said Alhaitham, turning around and fully facing Kaveh now. “Here,” he handed over the book he’d just picked up. "I'd like you to read me this."
Kaveh merely stared at the title for a few moments, slack-jawed. He slowly raised his hands to take it, letting out a nervous chuckle.
"This is a joke, right?" He laughed, uncertain. "It has to be. Did Tighnari put you up to this? You guys better still plan on paying me."
Alhaitham had never met Tighnari in person, having only heard about him through Cyno, but he now had to wonder about the man's taste in friends. Perhaps he took pride in collecting strange people.
"Why would I be joking?" Alhaitham asked. "I can't read, so I'm paying for the services of someone who can."
"Th-" Kaveh sputtered. "They have audiobooks, you know?!"
"I've never been comfortable with audiobooks,” Alhaitham crossed his arms. “They go too slow for my liking, and increasing the speed only serves to make everything sound unnatural. It’s also troublesome if I miss a sentence. That means manually going back and hoping not to accidentally go too far, or else I’m forced to listen through the same lines all over again. It just makes for an unpleasant experience overall."
Kaveh opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, seemingly at a loss for what to say.
"Still,” he said, eventually. “They're a lot cheaper than, y'know…” he gestured up and down at his body “Me."
"I have been listening to audiobooks since my surgery, but the narrator voices annoy me, and the constant exposure has recently started giving me migraines. Hence," Alhaitham uncrossed one arm to mimic Kaveh’s gesture, "you."
"So you seriously expect me to read you Crime and Punishment?!"
Why is he making such a big deal out of this?
"Oh." Alhaitham suddenly understood his mistake. He should have expected this. "I apologize. I failed to consider how much of a daunting task this could be for you." He sighed, taking the book back. "Your job description is to read easier books, for far younger audiences, and I failed to account for that."
Kaveh's left eye seemed to twitch. Perhaps I should give him my optometrist's number, Alhaitham thought absentmindedly, as he turned to look for his wallet.
"I unfortunately have little interest in that type of literature,” he continued. “Don't worry, I'll still pay you for your tr—"
"Okay, first of all," Kaveh interrupted, and he looked furious when Alhaitham turned back to look at him, "stop talking like that. This isn't the Regency era!"
Alhaitham blinked, surprised by the sudden outburst. "I won't apologize for being precise with my words—"
"Also," Kaveh spoke over him, his eyes glinting like his jewelry and just as distracting, "assuming that anyone who doesn't sound like you can only read at a third-grade level is supercilious—" Is he using big words just to prove a point?— "and presumptuous of you." At least he's using them correctly, Alhaitham mused. "I'll have you know I have a 3.8 GPA, and I still intend to make it higher before I graduate."
“Oh,” Alhaitham blinked. “Which major?"
His question stopped Kaveh mid-rant, making him narrow his eyes. “Why? So you can feel superior if I don’t say ‘linguistics’ or whatever it is you study?” Huh. Spot-on. (About his major, at least.) “And what if I said architecture?”
Alhaitham shrugged.
“I’d say that’s a perfectly valid career choice. Shelter is a universal necessity, making it a fundamental field.”
Kaveh let out an incredulous, humorless laugh.
“So it’s all about the practical usefulness?” He snorted, somewhat condescendingly. “Why am I not surprised? I bet you think art is beneath you.” No, he didn’t. “And give me that book,” he said abruptly, taking it back in the same motion as he pulled a chair towards the settee in the corner.
All Alhaitham could do was stare. This guy is too much, he thought, watching Kaveh as he made himself comfortable in the chair and glanced back at Alhaitham, patting the settee in a silent order. Too loud and too colorful and too bright in Alhaitham’s apartment. It almost made him miss the quiet, boring solitude of the past nine days.
Almost.
With a resigned sigh, Alhaitham quietly followed suit, making himself comfortable in the settee and getting ready to listen.