Tortoise and Fox [BL]

3.21

Why couldn't he have that time...to spend together with them?

Elijah, on the way home, steeled himself to hold back underneath the full moon's power. When Elijah entered the mansion, he lost his footing–a wave of throbbing pain grated against his inner temples with magnifying pressure. Aisultan hovered near, brows furrowed.

"What's wrong, Elijah dear? Do I need to grab blood from the kitchen?"

"No, that's not needed. It's just a mere headache. They flare up around this time. Is Eli here? You can show him your appearance while I get ready."

Elijah ignored his reluctance.

Elijah maintained his upright gait, and brisk pace. Yet, in a place where Aisultan could not see, his fist clutched tight. The very instant his bedroom door closed, Elijah slumped against it, gasping hard. He clawed at his chest tightly, perspiration beading down. His eyes flickered with movement, like a lens falling out of focus.

Red, searing pain tore down his soul, stretching it like thin, inelastic twine. This pain always existed the very moment "Elijah" separated from "Eli." The agony of a split soul, fighting for control. A stronger soul engulfing the weak.

He slammed his fist against the wall. The harsh pain grounded him.

"It wasn't nearly this bad last moon. Far from it. So why," he whispered, voice laced with pain.

Elijah took several deep breaths, slow and shaky. And then, Elijah loosened his fist, letting it drop to his side. The punctured knuckles healed, leaving behind a trace of dried blood. Then, he stood up and began getting ready for the ball with a resolved look in his eyes.

He had no time to wallow in pain.

Everything in the room was laid out in detailed order—ranging from the outfit Eli chose, to the jewelry, to a note asking for a specific hairstyle. Elijah followed the instructions closely. He buttoned his shirt and sleeves, inserted the red ribbon into the suit jacket's shoulders, and folded his collar with a neat bend. A tightfitting necklace made by Eli—a matching bracelet set, and almost ruby (Elijah would be unsurprised if it were truly ruby) cufflinks. Elijah's hair too, now brushed and braided, before being woven into a bun.

Elijah inspected the outfit in the mirror, before picking up the journal on his side dresser.

He flipped through. Their decisive formatting was broken, left and right page both taken over by Eli, who wrote through several pages in a heavy-handed ink.

***

Elijah, the outfit I picked out is hung on the dresser (as per your instructions to preserve it). I expect to see you return disheveled and fully spent after dancing the night away! You better dance with Aisultan too, and not sneak off somewhere like you always do. He's your elected guest–for the first time, well, ever!

So, dance with him.

I know you want to; don't reject it in your mind, I know it's true! I also know how much you say you hate going out–but we both understand the true reason. Honestly, I would always go in your place if I were able.

Don't you remember? When we first moved here? It seemed like so long ago, when I used to see the moon and go on crazy outings with Alyssa.

Really... sometimes I wish things were still the same. That it would last forever.

I have never wished to go more than I do right now, Elijah. All because of Aisultan. It's because of him... that I wish I had more time.

Now that I've gotten a taste of what it means to have... someone, it only makes me more reluctant to disapp–

Elijah closed the journal with a trembling hand. He tore his eyes away.

"Don't say things like that, Eli."

*

When Elijah and Aisultan returned, Eli within tortoise form, retreated inwardly from the sound of their voices.

"Go, show Eli your outfit," Elijah said, smile apparent in his voice. I'm going up to get ready for the ball."

"Alright~"

Eli didn't move, sitting still within his shell. A place warm, dry, and comforting–where no one could hurt him, and he couldn't hurt himself. A hand touched his shell with a gentle stroke.

"Eli?"

The shell didn't move.

"Weren't you the one who was so ecstatic to see me?"

Eli was ecstatic.

More than anyone–more than even Elijah. Which is why... it would only hurt to peek out and look at Aisultan. Aisultan, followed by Elijah walking out the door, dressed in tight-fit clothes and adorned in the necklaces and rings he made. Leaving a certain tortoise behind.

Eli didn't admit it until his latest journal to Elijah, but...

He wanted that.

To dance a terrible dance with Alyssa. To decline endless blood-filled toasts. To laugh at idiotic jokes on the balcony. To... step onto the ballroom floor and be taken away by the midnight gala, swept up by silver-gold splattered eyes.

Why couldn't he have that time...to spend together with them?

"Is something the matter, Eli dear? Are you feeling unwell? I can go ahead and retrieve Elijah if need be."

For some reason, the increasingly worried sound overwhelmed Eli. A tsunami flooded the walls he built of sand. Even though he'd be left imagining Aisultan's breathtaking figure laughing and conversing in places he'd never again be, Eli couldn't help but look.

The tortoise slowly poked out his head, eyes adjusting to the warmly lit exterior. Aisultan's figure centered, countenance overflowing with concern. His suit accented his figure well, and the gold highlights he hoped for appeared on his cuffs. A glittering pattern of golden vines was sewn into his collar. It was more likely courtesy of the tailor woman's taste, as she always had an eye for detail. The tortoise didn't blink, staring intensely up at Aisultan.

Aisultan smiled and reached down to touch the shell again.

"It turned out well, don't you think?"

The tortoise, although sluggish, somehow managed to express furious nodding in its bright gaze. Aisultan laughed; he could hear the fervent jumping and excitement in the movements.

Eli sighed inwardly. Really, he knew it'd look perfect; Aisultan tended to have that effect on everything he wore.

Or wait... was it that Eli found as long as Aisultan wore it, it would always be attractive?

The tortoise's wrinkled and greying skin hid the underlying panic beneath. Aisultan turned around, looking up in the direction of Elijah's bedroom, ears swiveling.

"...Forgive me, I must go get ready with final preparations. I'll see you later, Eli dear."

Eli's soul lurched, yearning to reach out and grab Aisultan by the sleeve. Eli looked, unwavering, and nodded.

It hurt... but, he decided, it was worth to see Aisultan in the attire he had been daydreaming over. He'd never get to see it for himself at eye level, after all. Aisultan's figure disappeared down the long halls of the manor, soon after. Eli closed his eyes, retreating into his shell. He hoped that the evening would pass quickly... and he could give his gift to Aisultan at daybreak.

Truly... it was a shame Eli ran out of time before he and Elijah swapped.

Truly, he thought weakly thought, as his mind spun faster with dizziness.

A black curtain fell over his closed vision, void of even the embering light.