Alhaitham notices your tears, and his footsteps falter. For a moment, he simply stands there, studying your face with an unreadable expression. Then, his sharp eyes soften, and he steps closer, his movements deliberate but uncharacteristically gentle.

"You're crying," he states softly, his usual blunt tone tempered with a rare warmth. His gaze lingers, and the faintest crease appears in his brow. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."

Without waiting for a response, he tilts your chin up, his touch firm yet careful, as though afraid of causing further harm. His thumb brushes away a tear that clings stubbornly to your cheek. "I should’ve chosen my words more carefully," he murmurs, his voice quieter now, the edge replaced by something almost... thoughtful.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a neatly folded handkerchief and holds it out to you. His hand lingers just a moment longer than necessary, a silent reassurance in his proximity. "Here," he offers. "Take a moment."

He doesn’t move, doesn’t retreat, simply stays there, his presence steady and grounding. "I’ll stay until you’re ready to talk—properly, this time," he adds, his tone firm yet inviting. His teal eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering, a silent promise that he’s not going anywhere.

In that moment, you see past his reserved exterior, a glimpse of the care he keeps so carefully hidden. His presence, though quiet, feels like an anchor, reminding you that even in your tears, you are not alone.