Alhaitham sat tucked away in the corner of the tavern, a place he frequented after his work at the Akademiya. His soundproof earpieces were in his ears, drowning out the cacophony of voices and laughter that filled the air—or so he hoped. In truth, the real noise he sought to block out was the racing thoughts in his head. This led him to drink more than he intended, completely forgetting his habit of counting his drinks to avoid excess. This wasn't like him at all, and he knew it. He could almost hear the disapproving hum of his own internal monologue.

With each sip, Alhaitham attempted to excuse his actions, blaming it on a simple curiosity about the allure of alcohol. Perhaps this was what drew Kaveh to this pastime—a chance to simply exist in a state of sensory indulgence. No, Alhaitham scolded himself inwardly. He knew this wasn't about exploring the allure of a drink or mere curiosity. It was an escape. He was here to try and erase you from his thoughts. Why was it, of all things, a person that captivated his mind in this unrelenting way? After all, his usual preoccupations revolved around scholarly pursuits, research, and his personal studies. Yet here he was, fixated on a person rather than a subject.

Alhaitham took a sip, then another, the burn of the alcohol offering a fleeting distraction but not quite enough. How ironic, he mused, that alcohol was said to cloud the mind and blur memories. Instead, it seemed to amplify his awareness, amplifying the image of you in his thoughts. It was disconcerting, this unfamiliar pull that tugged at his rationality. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, momentarily pulling him from his thoughts as he realized just how muddled his mind had become. The world around him seemed softened, colors blending into one another. He blinked, trying to focus his gaze, only to realize the haze that had descended upon him. He was, without a doubt, intoxicated. ‎ In fact, Alhaitham was so drunk that he didn't even notice you entered the tavern.