Invisible to you

Don't turn your back

⚠️ brief mentions of anxiety, claustrophobia ⚠️
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~Previously~

Contradicting his rough appearance, the other before him presented a thoughtful smile, his murky eyes glinting from the partially dimmed rays of light that pelted down from the sun like a waterfall of diffuse glow. The thick coat that hung on his shoulders complimented his ginger hair with the same radiant gleam "Of course I wasn't going to miss the celebration!..." Gimli huffed "...I'm a bloody dwarf!" He grumbled, looking towards Legolas, who raised the corners of his lips upwards in an amused retaliation of his statement.

Legolas, peering down at Gimli, shifted on his feet "So how were your adventures?..." He inquired, tilting his head to the side questioningly "...Please do tell"

~
3rd person PoV: 

It was a widespread occurrence for people to become bored during storytelling, especially when the story's dragged on for hours. Even acquaintances and friends, unfortunately, could not stand the same words and sentences duplicated in a fit of enthusiasm or overly analysed description of weapons and swords. For Gimli, this was something he was acquainted with and as a dwarf, a race that was devoted and depended on storytelling for both historical teaching and entertainment reasons, became reasonably dismal when his companions paid little interest to his carefully selected stories.

Once while camping around a fire with his companions and narrating a tale to the two, Aragorn and Legolas, he had caught a glimpse of Aragorn's distant eyes as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand and Legolas's drooping eyelids as he drifted off to sleep, an unusual occurrence for an elf. He had been hurt.

This was why he became exceptionally surprised by Legolas's intently concentrated response to the tales of his adventures. Even when describing the taste of a slice of bread he had eaten did little to relieve the elf's visible curiosity and excitement. Legolas's eyebrows drew closer during intense scenes, softening during peaceful ones. It was if sunlight had refreshed his eyes, ignited from the pit of his stomach like a newly born flame, seeping into his eyes rapidly, level of intensity superior even to the sun's and even with no glow radiating physically from him, he outshined the sun, he outshined the stars, he outshined every gem, jewel and diamond unearthed by dwarfs. It was certainly a spectacle to behold.

Legolas was situated with the top half of his body leant forwards, his palm holding his chin as his eyes glistened elegantly under the gaze of the sun. Like a pierced egg yolk, contentment flooded into Legolas's eyes, trickling in the configuration of a yellow, runny liquid, enveloping his pupils in that warm, honey complexion. Vibrant to a degree it held artistic value, stunning to the level it was remarkable to observe. Like honey dribbling against a turquoise painted background, it proposed a lazy but effective decline to Gimli's observing eyes.

His behaviour entirely contradicted his typical slouched posture and bored appearance the last time he decided to story tell and despite his satisfaction in obtaining this kind of reaction from the other, Gimli became somewhat concerned.

Noticing the dimming sky, Gimli ultimately determined that he had just spent hours sitting and reciting stories and Legolas, being too engaged in the tale had not deemed it worthy to mention their late attendance for the celebration. Sighing, the dwarf stood up, stretched his back and turned to glance over his shoulder at the elf who provided him with a displeased stare.

Gimli raised his eyebrows, feigning amusement as he announced in a rough voice "Have you become so interested in me that you forgot about the celebration?..." He inquired, voice knitted with a joking tone. Legolas peered at him, elegant features painted with a gleam of indifference, barely concealing the bitterness that twisted the corner of his lips downwards and like fresh water turned stagnant, he became cold once again.