holyknights | ♞ III. action.

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♞ III. action.

[After finally finding an opportunity to escape from his house, Elliot makes his way through the rain to the barracks. His intent is to let some of his frustration out, but it isn't going as well as he'd like. What should be flawless techniques are interrupted when his hand freezes up, forcing him to drop his precious black blade. Multiple times.

It would take more than a stupid handicap to make Elliot Nightray give up, though. It didn't matter how frustrating it was.

Sooner or later, he'll head back, but he's not in any hurry to do so. It's been almost a week since he returned and his condition hasn't improved much at all. He hates this place. He hates it with a passion.]

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[Once they're inside and the front door is shut, Elliot works on taking off his coat, his gloves, his shoes. Even his clothes are a little damp, so he starts heading to his room when that towel is thrown at him. He stops, using the towel to start drying his hair.]

Go change your clothes.

[He's tired so he doesn't argue about a direct order like that even as he tugs a second dry towel from the cupboard and places it on his own head. He makes no effort to dry his hair in the open unlike Elliot, however, choosing instead to enter his room first and close the door behind him.

...except that there's a crash about two minutes after that, followed by a resulting thud.]

[Elliot continues on his way to his room once his servant disappears, still working on drying his hair as he goes.]

[—and then he hears that awful sound, dropping his towel. He can probably guess what happened.]

[He immediately heads toward his servant's room and lets himself in to check on him.]

What the hell was that?

[Leo reckons that it hadn't been such a good idea placing the Britannica vol. 1 on top of the tiny novel on that tottering pile of books after all. His hands are certainly smarting from the encounter with the floorboards and he'd been this close to knocking himself on the bedpost.]

Ouch.

[He winces at the stinging sensation as he pushes himself upwards before feeling his face and noticing that his glasses must have clattered away. A quick glance around confirms that it's nowhere around him; it's probably somewhere in the room. And he'd probably have to be extra careful not to tread on them.

...what a pain.

Either way, he really can't see without drying off his hair and parting it a little more than necessary so with a grumble, he'll grab the towel off the top of the book tower and run it through his hair. How was he supposed to find any new clothes like this? Though for once, his eyes should be more visible than usual--]

[--as the door opens and he stares at Elliot.

Pause.]

Don't you knock?

[Elliot looks down at Leo, and the first thing he notices are his eyes. They usually remained hidden by that mess of hair, so it was unusual to actually be able to see them like this. He always thought of how much of a shame that was, because the other boy's eyes were so beautiful and—

...something's different about them. They're different somehow, aren't they?

He shakes his head. Maybe he was just... imagining it.]

Shut up. Don't be stupid. Are you hurt?

[He's at least able to be a little more scathing now that he's out of the rain and home and he knows that Elliot is in the house. Still, he pulls the towel a little lower so that it covers the front portion of his face now-- he's noticed that stare, after all.]

A bruise or two won't kill me.

[That attitude... Elliot frowns, shutting the door behind him and moving to retrieve the boy's glasses. They weren't hard for him to spot even among the mess, but Leo would never find them if he kept hiding like that.

He offers them back to him.]

I told you to do something about this place.

It was an accident.

[His tone is deliberately flippant- he hadn't meant to trip over the books just like how Elliot hadn't meant to wander off, of course. Not that he'll refuse his glasses, though; Elliot might be able get a second glance of those eyes as Leo runs a hand through his hair to pull his bangs back and put those glasses on.]

[Naturally, Elliot doesn't pass up another opportunity to catch a glimpse of his eyes, and this time— no, he's sure of it. They're different. But how is he supposed to mention that? Why would something like that just... change?

Once his servant is finished with his glasses, he holds out a hand, even despite the way he's been talking to him.]

Are you all right?

[He stares at the hand for a moment and contemplates knocking it away...but even then, Leo's not an unreasonable person. He'll accept that hand.]

Like I said, it's nothing too serious. [A bruise on one of his elbows and maybe his knees, but hey, nothing bleeding.] You didn't have to worry.

You could have knocked yourself unconscious. [And that's without considering how messy this damn room was. He pauses briefly, considering how to approach this.] Have you been feeling ill lately?

That's a random question.

Just now, I... [This was going to sound really stupid, he was sure of it.] I think there's something different about your eyes. They've lost some of their color.

[He had only seen them a few times, sure, but it was impossible to forget what they looked like. It was a color that he'd never seen before. He didn't think it was illness, but if it wasn't, then... What could it have been?]

[Except that Leo doesn't appreciate comments about his eyes, no matter who's making them and he tenses up at the mention of them. His mouth snap shut and he moves away, towards the cupboard with his dry clothes as he towels his hair dry.

Away from Elliot who might ask to look at them again.]

Don't be ridiculous. Who's ever heard about people's eyes losing their colour?

[Retreating again... He isn't surprised, but it's a little frustrating.]

I'm just telling you what I saw. [...] If something's wrong, you should tell me.

And I said that that's impossible. This isn't some kind of horror story. [He pauses by the cupboard, hand on the cupboard door.] Besides, that's a strange double-standard, isn't it?

I always tell you what's wrong.

[Except when he knows he's already worrying him too much.]

[And he turns around, quest for dry clothes abandoned for the moment.]

...then tell me what's been bothering you lately.

[Dropping things constantly, seeming more frustrated...he's noticed these small cues, but he'd kept it to himself. But if they're going to talk about being honest, well-- he could ask frank questions too, couldn't he?]

[He frowns. While he didn't doubt his servant's concern, he knows he did that on purpose.]

Nothing's changed.

[But everything is what he really means.]

[Welp. So much for being honest.]

And you just felt like wandering out in the rain today to practise?

[Elliot speaks a bit more harshly when he answers him this time.]

I can't do anything like this.

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