𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐘 -★彡[ᴋᴀᴠᴇʜ​]★彡

𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 - 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

 "...Huh?" Kaveh blinked at (Y/n) in confusion, unsure what to make of her words. Is she rejecting me? If so, he could bring himself to accept such a fact—yet the matter in which she phrased her sentence was almost satirical. She looked up at him then down at the ground, her eyes overcast with some incomprehensible emotion. "Forgive me for misunderstanding, but I don't quite understand what you mean."

(Y/n) glanced up at him. "Kaveh...do you really love me?"

The answer should have been simple. It was the truth he had discovered only recently, yet he was absolutely certain of the way that he felt. There was no answer besides 'yes' or some sort of affirmation in his mind, but for some reason his vocal chords wouldn't respond. Parting his lips to answer, Kaveh found that no sound escaped them. What's the right answer? Would saying yes really be the answer that she desires? These thoughts swam around in his mind like fish in a tank, endlessly moving without a destination. The girl he was speaking to was close to him, yet she had never felt so far away. What am I supposed to say?

He knew the answer that she wanted to hear. The desperation in her eyes was practically begging him to deny it, to say that it was simply a slip of the tongue or a fault in his logic. 'The worst thing you can do for someone that is condemned to death is to give them a reason that they would want to keep living.' Perhaps what Alhaitham had said was correct, and the best thing for (Y/n) was to give her the answer she wanted to hear.

Just say no. The voices in the back of his mind urged him.

Say it.

But when he finally regained the ability to speak his foolish lips uttered:

"Yes, I do."

And in her eyes, he saw something break.

When you had been a child about to enter your teenage years, you still didn't understand the implications behind the looks your parents gave you. The fear on their faces, to you, was simply parental love. The way in which they avoided you constantly and only offered the bare minimum of parenting was normal. Upon looking at other kids with their parents, you didn't understand what was so great about being super close and holding hands with your mother. Your relationship with your mom was fine the way it was, right?

One day, you had crept out from the depths of your room in response to hearing the unfamiliar voice of a man in the presence of your home. Upon seeing him, you realized that it was the care doctor you had been seeing monthly.

"The symptoms are progressing at a rapid rate, far more so than the average case," he explained, leafing through a set of papers to present them with one. "At this rate, she'll enter the final stage in just a few years."