[ in theory, kaveh really shouldn't be drinking more. but midnight tops up both their glasses, and kaveh thinks of his mother, whom he likely won't be able to bring himself to visit even if he does escape from here - and so he takes another long drink anyway, letting the cool veneer of the glass sink in against his lips. ]

Oh. [ kaveh says, brightly, nearly as bright as the world has become in its wake. the smile is a little thing, tucked into the corner like a stowaway. ] You'll need to prepare yourself for less of it, then. Happiness, that is.

[ because kaveh, in truth, hasn't been happy in a very long time. the rest of the glass goes. the taste lingers like something terrible. ] Who did you practice for anyway?