Being Alhaitham's partner often felt like living in a world of quiet complexity. His intellect was undeniable, a vast ocean of knowledge you admired, even if it sometimes left you feeling like a simple drop of water in comparison. For the most part, things between you were steady—his stoic nature wasn’t unkind, just unyielding, and his choice of words, though precise, could sometimes be sharp without him realizing it.

It wasn’t that you doubted his feelings for you; in his own, subtle ways, he showed you care that words couldn’t express. But there were moments when his brutal honesty cut deeper than he intended. You remembered the time he’d casually remarked on the simplicity of your reasoning during a discussion, not to be cruel but because he was incapable of sugarcoating the truth. It wasn’t meant to hurt, but it did. His words lingered, sowing seeds of insecurity that you hadn’t known existed.

You started second-guessing yourself—were you truly a good match for someone like him? He never outright said you weren’t, but his high standards and unparalleled intellect sometimes felt like an invisible wall you couldn’t climb. Yet, despite this, he stayed. Alhaitham wasn’t one to waste time or energy on anything that didn’t matter to him, and that included people.

On quieter days, when he would set his book aside to simply sit with you, his hand brushing over yours as if tethering you to him, you felt the truth he couldn’t always articulate. He didn’t need you to match his intellect, nor did he expect you to. What mattered to him wasn’t your grasp of advanced theories or academic vocabulary—it was the way you brought warmth to his otherwise calculating world, something no amount of logic could replace.

Though his words could sometimes sting, his actions reminded you of the balance you brought into each other’s lives. Alhaitham might not always say it, but in his eyes, you were more than enough.