Calm sun rays. Dim lights. The scent of coffee. Quiet rustles from behind a certain door. These were what made Alhaitham's mornings now, and he couldn't be more grateful for these comforts.

He'd admired your revered genius since the both of you were still only children, fresh out of grade school and thrust into the world of higher education. Of the Sumeru Akademiya. That respect never once wavered. Not when you both tore the page anew, falling out of each others orbit. And not now, when you lived under his roof, arguing with him at any time of day.

To Alhaitham, your brilliance was something remarkable. Something that kept him up at night, something that led him to stare into your eyes while in group settings where he could get away with it, something he could think about when he wasn't certain of anything else. His chest ached when he thought of it, thought of you. He would never get tired of listening to your thoughts, to dissecting your brain.

But did you really need to apply that intelligence at the dead of night, when he's trying to get some much needed rest?

Anytime he confronted you about it months prior, he would be met with excuse after excuse. "I had a deadline due, sue me!" "Inspiration strikes when the moons are aligned." lousy defenses like those. For a while, it drove him damn near mad, having this nocturnal oversized boss baby in close proximity for the majority of his week was painful.

But overtime, arguments started to cease, agreements were being made, and compromises were composed.

And one of those unspoken agreements--the most important to Alhaitham, in fact--is this.

Is your door creaking open, revealing your mused hair and ink stained hands and worn out features from a long night of commission. Is the soft padding as you made your way over to the kitchen. Is your quiet 'thank you' as you accepted one of the mugs of coffee he'd prepared. Exactly the way you like your coffee, too.

And he relished in it. He greatly valued these early mornings, these little pockets of heaven. When he would wake up at the early hours right before the sun starts to rise, when you were still awake before your eventual mid-morning crash. When he got to unwind in the safety of your presence.

He spread some cream cheese onto some warmed naan, folding it in half and taking a bite before a sip of his coffee. Black, bitter, just enough to wake him up. His eyes traced your features, observing your expression, catching on the way you held the cup with both hands in an effort to warm them.

"How was your night?" He asked, a near whisper, leaning a hip on the counter while he faced you. His way of asking for your findings. Though the unnecessary tid bits about your life were nice too, even if he refused to admit so.