"Come on, nobody will notice if there's a bit less in the pot. Our friends bring each a dish of their own so there's always leftovers."
Funnily enough, he was alone at the table at the moment.
"They'll take a while. Sit. Eat something, please."
Pats the empty seat beside him.
A selfish moron, as Kaveh would define him before he noticed he was talking out loud and it's too late to retract what's been said.
Alhaitham didn't mind any of that.
"I won't impede you then."
Folding the paper in half, he stores it inside his pouch and turns to his book once again.
The Β»
Alhaitham is a bit of an asshole, sometimes. Like just now.
He was completely miserable, hating every second spent sitting outside, watching over the food and the seating space.
Now he just dragged another person into that same misery, just to keep himself in adequate company.
What an asshat. Β»
"Kaveh made it. Says it's his mother's recipe. Nothing much I can do to stop him once he's started."
Alhaitham's eyes stop for a few seconds on the boy's, then blinks and gazes away, back to the document he's redacting.
"Of course I didn't think you died. Welcome back."
"Oh, you are alive."
Passes a page of his book.
"There's stew in the pot, if you are hungry."
silence turns awkward, even more when the other tables around them fill up with people.
Alhaitham passes another page, eyeing Zandik discreetly.
"So... Where have you been?"