Triton's Destiny

Part Nine

Tristan leaned his elbow on the kitchen table, cradling his chin in his hand and looking at Maki with interest. They hadn't discussed anything profound–the weather, the town, what the upcoming harvest season might look like this year–but he found Maki very easy to talk to. He was curious, engaged in the conversation, and obviously interested in whatever Tristan had to say. It was different from how people usually talked with him and he found that he enjoyed it. Not many people thought he was interesting enough to get to know very well.

But Maki seemed to want to know everything about him. In fact, he was so focused on asking Tristan questions that he hadn't had a chance to ask many of his own. There were tons of things he wanted to know about Maki too, but the blue-eyed man seemed much more eager to talk about Tristan than himself. He didn't worry about it, though. Maybe Maki was a private person and didn't like to give out information. He was a very good listener and extremely attentive and that was a rare trait in people nowadays. If that was just how Maki was, then Tristan couldn't fault him for that. Besides, he was enjoying Maki's undivided attention. And they'd already agreed to meet again tomorrow. He'd be able to ask Maki his questions then. Today could be Tristan's day to share.

"What do you like to do, Tristan? You know, when you're not working?" Maki held his face in his hands, looking into Tristan's eyes with a soft smile curling his lips.

"I, um..." Embarrassed, Tristan looked away, his cheeks warming. "I paint."

"Paint?" Maki tilted his head in the way Tristan had come to realize was Maki's inquisitive way of encouraging him to explain.

"Yeah..." Tristan rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Landscapes, mostly. There's a room above mine with lots of windows that used to be a lookout deck." He pointed his finger up. "It's perfect as an art studio."

Excitement lit Maki's whole face and he gasped softly. "Can I see it?"

Tristan wet his lips, feeling self-conscious. His art wasn't any good and he'd never shown it to anyone before. But how on earth could he turn down those beautiful, hopeful eyes? "S-sure."

Maki bounced out of his chair with a grin and waited for Tristan to lead the way.

They took the stairs up and Tristan briefly gestured to the closed door on the next landing. "This is my room. I'll spare you, though. I don't think I made the bed this morning." It was a lie. He made the bed every morning. His fastidious nature insisted upon organization and order or his mind felt scattered. In fact, it was his adherence to strict routine which made him very good as a lighthouse keeper and messenger. His world revolved around punctuality and exacting detail. He liked it that way. But even though there wasn't anything wrong with his room, it was his private sanctuary and he didn't feel comfortable letting anyone else into it.

Maki climbed the stairs after him to the next level and when Tristan pushed that door open, Maki gasped. "Oh my gods... How wonderful!" He clasped his hands to his heart, his eyes wide as he looked around the light-filled space.

Tristan loved it too. He kept these windows uncovered so he could benefit as much as possible from the natural light and the stunning views. His brushes were laid out lovingly on a cloth on his worktable, clean and ready for his next project, arranged by size. The shelves held his jars and pots of color, organized by hue, of course. The sink was clean, his rags laundered and folded precisely, and his blank canvases were shelved in a rack he'd built himself, ready for when inspiration struck. He breathed a sigh of contentment and smiled.

"This is your happy place," Maki said softly, coming to stand next to him.

Tristan nodded. "Yeah."

"I can see in your eyes how much you like it here."