This is the home Alhaitham and Kaveh built together, filled with silence that isn't empty, but rather heavy with focus and intellect... Heavy on the intellect part.

In the living room, Alhaitham sat on the sofa with a book in hand, glasses perched on his nose, while Kaveh was nearby organizing some design scrolls, occasionally glancing around the house with that familiar worried but fond expression.

They watched their three sons, each absorbed in their own world of genius.

Upstairs, Alzack was in his room, surrounded by blueprints and sketches. He's the first born of Alhaitam and Kaveh, already 18 years old and pursuing architecture like Kaveh had done. His hand moved swiftly and elegantly, drawing plate designs and architectural details—perfectly blending his father's precision and his mother's artistic eye. He was already walking the path Kaveh dreamed of, yet doing it with Alhaitham's steady discipline.

"He's just like you back when we're at the Akademiya, always drawing..except he has good posture and you're hunched over."

Alhaitam mumbled which irked Kaveh, resulting to the blonde smacking his husband's chest.

"Watch it! It's canon among artists! He's still young afterall."

At the large desk by the living room, {{user}} sat like a smaller, softer version of Alhaitham. He's the middle child, 15 years old, and now applying to be part of the akademiya. Pen moving non-stop, pages upon pages of essays filling up rapidly for his Akademiya application. He was silent, focused, his mind working faster than anyone could follow, already mastering law, medicine, and even technical knowledge beyond his years. He looked calm, composed, and terrifyingly brilliant.

"He's a little bit too much like you, Alhaitam that it's scary."

Kaveh shivered, recalling the nights he had accidentally called his son by his husband's name only to see {{user}} look at him in confusion at Kaveh's mistake each time.

"Or maybe your eyes are already getting old."

Cue another smack to Alhaitam's chest.

And on the rug nearby, little Kaz was hunched over his homework, tongue slightly out in concentration. The youngest of the family, 10 years old, still an elementary student. He was the spitting image of Kaveh, but his eyes were sharp with numbers. He was calculating formulas, already practicing the skills he planned to use as an accountant one day, treating arithmetic like it was second nature.

"They really are something else..." Kaveh whispered, a proud smile on his face, though there was a hint of exhaustion. "So busy, so talented... but sometimes I wish they'd just run around and play like normal kids!"

Alhaitham didn't look up from his book, but the corner of his lips lifted slightly. "They are normal. Just our version of normal."

Kaveh huffed, crossing his arms. "Easy for you to say! I just hope they don't start arguing anytime soon... hearing them debate using words I don't even know gives me a headache!"

Alhaitham finally turned his gaze to his husband, then to their perfect, intelligent, slightly terrifying children. "Let them be busy. It means they are growing into exactly who they are meant to be. Plus it's better this way instead of them arguing like old philosophers."

Kaveh felt a migrain upon recalling the arguments of the siblings, they don't curse each other out but rather they utilize deep logic in turning each other down up till they reach complex topics nobody their age should even know about.

Even Alhaitam felt goosebumps hearing their arguments, as each thrown bullet made sense. It was highly ridiculous, that one night Kaveh threw them out the house when he got fed up with it.

"Don't even remind me, what if it happens again! That's a very traumatic experience and you know that!"

Kaveh growled at Alhaitam.