Tortoise and Fox [BL]

3.33

"Aisultan, you are my courage."

Lucidity first appeared in Elijah's mind as he snapped awake. The distinct tingle of Aisultan's body shaking in his arms. The cool breeze passing by the almost neon-pastel clouds—and the silence of his mind, now echoing with the chirping insects. Sorrow quickly overtook this brief wonder. His chest hollowed.

He couldn't cry though—Elijah wondered why.

Perhaps Eli, in his own time, cried enough for the both.

"Aisultan," Elijah whispered, petting his hair. Aisultan made a hoarse noise. He refused to elaborate, perhaps to restrain the amount Elijah would decipher of the bits and pieces through the raw, broken-up voice. He could only bear the man's weight with a firm embrace, letting him sob quietly.

Elijah rubbed his cheek against the silvery hair, before admiring the ring on his hand. More stunning than even the fanciest jeweler shop; perfectly fitting Elijah's own personal, more lowkey taste. 

He knew Eli made it in mind for him.

Even then, he was looking for a way to ask for Elijah's forgiveness.

Elijah spun the ring once around, before knocking his temple gently against Aisultan. The pinching pressure of Aisultan's fingers around his waist loosened, and Aisultan hesitantly, carefully looked over at Elijah. His eyes were puffed up and red at the corners. Elijah handed him a well-prepared handkerchief, which he used generously.

"Your eyes."

"Hm? What about them?"

"As crimson as the jewel on our rings."

Elijah looked down at the ring—a ruby—crisp and gleaming as he tilted it back and forth above him. Elijah laughed lightly, "Really? That's interesting."

Aisultan stared at him blankly.

"What?" Elijah tilted his head, replaying his words. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"You feel different."

"I do feel different," Elijah laughed again, fidgeting with Aisultan's hair—it caught in his hair, causing a low yelp. "Sorry," he added, "I don't know what's come over me. Everything's a little strange right now. Was your fur always this soft?"

"It's the same as ever. It's ah, you're more peppy than usual. Less tired and lethargic. Less of that angry, attractive frown etched into your face."

Aisultan then laughed at Elijah's well-timed expression, before apologizing. He tentatively forgave Aisultan and continued.

"Perhaps... the reconciliation of Eli, of our shattered power, resolved that for me." Elijah paused, His eyes trained on the outstretched tortoise biting away at the teasing tail. "To wake up without any pain is—like I just cleaned a centuries-old lens."

'Why though,' his wrathful spirit screeched in his ears. 'Why are you the one who gets to live? To love freely without pain?'

The venom shriveled the lingering awe—melting down into a thick, mucosal sludge of regret. Pathetic, helpless regret.

"I don't know."

"Know what?" Aisultan asked.

"Why I... and he..."

Elijah sank his face into Aisultan's shoulder, unable to handle the angered rejection he knew full well would light up Aisultan's face. He knew Aisultan disliked this sort of speak. And yet, the thoughts continued to poison his mind and overtake even the uplifted fog of agony. It didn't matter how the painful weight of bricks no longer strained atop his shoulders, choked out his anxious rest, and haunted his time away to exhausted seconds. Because... Eli was gone.