Tortoise and Fox [BL]

3.29

"No, there is every reason to scold me—to hate me."

Lucas returned, pale.

"There are several jugs and barrels filled with blood altogether. The stench is disgusting—and these rings, a pile of them are in a box."

"And so? Do you believe us now?"

Lucas nodded furiously, rubbing his sleeve against his nose.

"Yeah, I do. I never thought there'd be anything like that downstairs, And the sheer amount of it. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Don't be. A moderate amount of suspicion will only benefit you."

Lucas waved his head as if to shake the image from his head.

"I have some leftover desserts after today's visit to the kids. Would you two like some?"

Aisultan raised his hand, "I will."

"No blood, no sense of taste," Elijah said.

"Really?" Lucas cocked his head side to side. "What if I baked blood into it? Not human blood—um, perhaps whatever they have at the butcher's."

Elijah, about to shake his head in rejection, froze.

"Wait... that's brilliant. Could you do that for me? I've never thought to incorporate blood into human food."

Lucas pecked his head like a chicken to grained rice. With a grin, he darted in and out with a small tin of cookies. White frosting swirled atop each one. He watched Aisultan attentively, and upon seeing his smile of approval, flaunted his own praises at Aisultan.

Elijah put his hand on his cheek, watching their bickering unfold. The statue behind them stood, as if guarding the sacredness of the space around them. Her lips pressed together, thick and stony, yet as if about to respond to Elijah's passing thoughts.

"...jah."

He wondered what she was to say to Eli as he, once more, bore his heart to her?

"Elijah."

"Hm?"

Elijah caught Aisultan's gaze—gold tunneled his vision like a string pulling taut on a hook. Triangular ears followed. Elijah reached over and petted them.

"Lucas said he was leaving."

Elijah turned, fingers still tangled in fur, to Lucas standing to the side with a blank expression. Elijah slowly pulled away his hand, but Aisultan only leaned in, to the point where his head pressed against the crook of Elijah's shoulder. Elijah gave up and kept his hand atop the silken hair.

"Take care, Lucas. I'll return another day for those cookies. Eli has a fascination with sweets, so he'll be thrilled to hear."

Lucas coughed, "Alright. If I can bring him a little comfort that would help..."

Elijah narrowed his eyes, but the fading scurry of Lucas's shoes smothered out his embering suspicion. Eli told him. Lucas was a kind soul—just like his grandfather.

The tremble of Aisultan's chewing jaw tickled his shoulder.

"I can feel you chewing," Elijah said, low and casual into Aisultan's ear.

Aisultan's throat bobbed with an exaggerated swallow—and thus followed Elijah's laughing huff.

"These cookies taste... special. Dry, and crumbled, but crisp like snow sugar. It reminds me of the desserts they made at home."