“Eles—“ A subdued gasp for the way Eles came undone, and Waru was digging his soft nails into his car's frame as he braced himself over it. He wanted to touch…to be granted permission….to tug a single lock of damp, black silk-looking hair free and judge the feeling of it for his own pleasure. Oh, and it was wrong, wasn’t it? To find fire tucked away like hidden gems in a dead-man’s hearth. Like finding a symphony in a trash can. It was everything! It was crushing. The way Ebon….and no…this one was ’Eles’ now, became more and more his boy while becoming less and less his boy — just — the cruelest ******** trick of the evening.

To have so jarring a reveal in a place so plain as a parking lot, the open-door of his car.

Such beautiful eyes —

“Waru—“ Speaking his own name like there were bits of shell in his food and he had to swallow past them with some minor difficulty. Because the meal was still good in spite of the grit. “And I have ‘manners’ the same way you have ‘eyes’…” He huffed soft, his words his shield, a pocket dimension made of sound, within which he could tuck himself and process the rest of what Eles had said. Because gods…what did he even say to that?! “So, sometimes? But really only when it suits me.”

So I’m ‘The Haunted Guy’, huh? What a ******** description…

He didn’t deny it, as doors softly closed, opened, the engine turning vibrantly to life beneath the turn of a key ringed with trinkets. And he thought of offering Ebon — Eles — a shower straight away — to do it together — to let him use only his tongue for the task….

“So ‘The Haunted Guy’ doesn’t get a cooler nickname than that? Not that it’s a bad one…there are worse ********’ things t’be thought of as...” He thought Eion might’ve laughed at his own patheticness had he been here. Or rolled his eyes and given him the middlest of fingers, twice over, pitch black and red hot and poker sharp. Or worse….and Waru laughed instead, wanting to imagine his boy being meanly playful instead of the vicious putty that could’ve filled the space behind his eyes. The way Eion had such a unique smile..and Eles…

Because he isn’t wrong about anything, save the number, is he? My personal ghost is just so singular, powerful, all consuming! That it probably seems like Hell’s emptied after me…

“Like the kinda guy you don’t want taking you home? That might’ve been worse….” He smirked around a brief flash of teeth. The car thrown into reverse, and then drive, as he decided it was better to peel out before the boy changed his mind. It wasn’t far enough from his place that he would lament the loss of Eles’s silence in his ear; let the boy pick his way through whatever was in reach — radio — the seat he claimed like his name was on the title.