Tortoise and Fox [BL]

3.7

"There's no metal that can match the distinct color of your eyes."

Eli had not felt so much shame condensed into one singular night before. He hovered the inked pen above the empty page, feeling warm as he recalled the events from the last afternoon. "How utterly embarrassing that was...!"

He resisted the urge to bang his head against the worktable.

"What are you up to, Eli dear?"

Eli jolted with red cheeks, like an animal frozen at the sight of being caught. Aisultan merely raised an eyebrow at the energetic movements, but didn't pursue it any further, sparing Eli any further embarrassment.

Eli cleared his throat with a little noise, "Ahem, good morning Aisultan. You've only awoken now, while the sun hangs over so high? Not that you could tell in this basement, I suppose."

Aisultan's cool appearance suddenly went stiff. As he crossed his arms, "Elijah subjected me to a multitude of garden work. I–I didn't even begin to imagine how much time it took to do what I thought were menial gardening tasks, before last night. It was a rude awakening to say the least."

"Oh you don't know the half of it! Some mornings I wake so utterly sore and lacking in energy that I can do nothing but recuperate in the common rooms, thanks to his endless busying–it's not a bad thing, mind you–I wind up complaining to him for hours on end about it. He stopped working so relentlessly, perhaps more to shut up my chatter."

Aisultan laughed, "That is very much something Elijah would do."

"And to your earlier question–I am writing to Elijah. The journal keeps us updated on events. Communication through the tortoise is, well...difficult without this. It's why he gets stuck tolerating my one-sided conversations–he has nothing he can do to stop me."

"I am confident he doesn't mind–he's fond of you, the way you are of him."

Eli's eyes widened, "I suppose we are! Ah, I've found myself distracted now because of you–one moment, feel free to make yourself as comfortable as you can in this mess–I must finish this page before I forget."

He no longer looked at Aisultan, scribbling sloppy lettering onto the paper as he dumped his recollection of events down as quickly as possible, more than aware that the focal point of his embarrassment was browsing the piles of metals behind his back. Eli concentrated on the entry for a few minutes more, as Aisultan gazed around with interest. The detailed, carefully welded and screwed machinery all all around him seemingly created with unique purposes, ones Aisultan couldn't decipher.

Some contraptions were placed carefully atop metal stands while others were thrown haphazardly in piles, unfinished. Eli's rapid train of thought followed him into his work–focusing on one project  after the other without stopping, regardless of how the results turned out, only engaging in the most interesting ideas at the time.

Eli shut the journal, relief visible. He hoped to never look at those pages again. He found his way to Aisultan, looking over from the side. The cut from earlier had scabbed over on his cheek, adding a certain sensation of realness to the otherwise unreal features. The pointed ears resting atop his ears twitched with acute movements, coated with well-maintained silver fur.

He looked away, letting his hands wander the counter as he spoke, gathering miscellaneous screws and metal parts.

"I want to apologize to you. For my behavior last night. It was pathetic and...thank you, for handling it so well."

His fingers manipulated the metal quickly, bending it in quick, smooth spurts with a strength not limited by human idea. When about to pierce a nail into the metal, he stopped, glancing at the fluffy ears, before setting it down with a small clink, instead taking a small block of wood beneath the table and a carving knife nearby.