SERAPHIC. g i

Al Haitham↬Flickering Candlelight

yandere!al haitham x f!reader

If there was anything you despised more than Alhaitham himself, it would have to be staying beside him while he works at night.

After an entire day of tending to tiresome household chores and little to no recreation, when the bed calls for you so alluringly, the pillows promising sweet sweet dreams — you're instead forced to be strapped (not literally) on a rigid wooden chair and beside an even more rigid man who you have the misfortune to call husband.

You're yet to fully memorize all the rules penned down by said man and the short meantime you had been performing these duties do not help in comprising an understanding either. Still, you follow through all his demands requests compliantly for the most part ; even then you cannot help but question the logicality behind this particular ‘duty’. Should you, with extreme boldness, conclude this need for company a result of the Scribe's loneliness? Or, is it something as simple —and borderline sweet— as your presence being comforting? The possibilities are infinite and with a man such as Alhaitham, you could only keep theorising to pass time in such nights. The wooden chair is as close to comfortable as Celestia is to the Abyss but what you cannot comprehend is, how sitting on his lap would make this situation any better.

The entire room is dimly lit by a single candle that sat upon his desk on a silver stand, so only the surroundings close to it was visible. The candlelight occasionally dances due to the beckoning of the night wind entering through the window, some of it briefly brushes against your skin ; making it even harder to keep your eyes open.

The calling of sleep could've been muted if, oh you don't know— there had been more entertaining things other than the moving of Alhaitham's quill or the view of your dangling feet to see ; you'd already passed two something hours switching between the two after all. And it's even harder to keep your body straight as it begs to lean unto something — not a wise decision in this case as the only thing to lean onto here is the Scribe's abdomen.

Despite the duration of you two being ‘together’, you're still quite easily flustered by physical proximity (Alhaitham sometimes uses this against you, very much to your dismay). Not like he is well-versed with displays of affection either but unlike him, you have some dignity left. A yawn involuntarily escapes your lips and your hand raises to cover your mouth, the corner of your eyes dampen and your body slouches but you keep fighting your primal urges.

Alhaitham finally takes notice of your struggles, without moving his attention from his work, he says, “I have told you already, you can lean on me instead of being stubborn. You should be well aware that adequate rest is necessary in order to perform your duties.”

Hypocrite. You are the one who's not letting me rest.

Despite his borderline enticing offer, you appear to shrink even further — or, as far as his pinning hold on your waist would allow you to. Here's the thing, you'd never refute to Alhaitham through words (not anymore) instead, your defiance subtly seeps through your actions ; how you flinch or try to create as much distance from him as possible. Your abhorrence for the Scribe is not lost on him either, it pains his stoned heart at times, how your eyes seem to only dull by his presence and how his name is never uttered with the same sentiments.

However, Alhaitham is no less stubborn himself. He knows you'll break and one day, you will reciprocate, too. He would not stop until he sees you smile only for him but a certain inconvenience needs to be mended for now.