A/N: This is just one of two silly little things I wrote on the 8th of August, in Honor of Elliot's Birthday. I was thinking of only leaving it up on tumblr, but I figured I might as well put it up here too. It's a little choppy, and not exactly how I want at this point, but it should be legible. I'm not sure why I have it all in italics, and not sure if there was a point to that... but I'll leave it as such just in case. Thanks for reading, and reviews are much appreciated.
Fine Line:
It's dark when he opens his eyes and very quiet. He can't really remember his reason for waking up—be it some disturbing dream or loud noise—but he supposes it doesn't really matter. He's awake now, and there's no helping it.
He squints into the darkness, wondering if it was simply late at night or early morning as he sits up, arranging his covers around him wearily, a few soft thumps reminding him of reading and bickering before bed…
There is a groan from somewhere on the floor.
Cautiously rolling himself to the edge of the bed, he peers over, taking in the dark mass lying in a pile of books, hair, and blankets.
"Leo?" he whispers.
"What?" is the irritable reply.
He pauses a moment, not quite sure what to say, before muttering, "Just wanted to see if you were awake."
"Clearly," Leo replies dryly, and there's a rustle of cloth before his face appears at eye level, dark circles under his eyes.
"I only just closed my eyes, you know," he continues on, leaning against Elliot's mattress, "so it seems at this rate, I won't be getting any sleep."
They sit there in the dark, silence stretched thin between them, before Leo speaks again.
"Happy birthday, by the way."
"Oh. Is it morning then?" Elliot asks, looking down at his companion, who merely rolls his eyes.
"I think you're supposed to thank me," Leo snorts with a small smile in his master's direction, "and I'd suppose so, though I'm not certain."
Again, the silence descends, but as always, there's an overlying feeling of comfort in their silence. Some sort of whispered understanding. A place where the lines that should have separated them blurred and disappeared.
They always tiptoe, skitter, and slip over, under, and between those lines, either blatantly scorning or downright ignoring them as they spend their days together, reading and laughing. For them, there are few defining differences between one another, and since there was never a leering presence to overrule their ways, their friendship sprouted.
Of course, there will always be those who disapprove of the growing bond between master and servant, the way they spend their time, and evidently the difference in social status. Even if these matters agitate or bother the duo, all worries are forgotten by hours spent in the libraries, nagging at one another or just simply sitting in peace.
"Leo?"
"Mhm?"
"Thank you."
When he meets his valet's eyes, they seem somehow shadowed. Resentful. His smile is bitter as he pats his master's hand.
"Happy birthday, Elliot."