Fakiru Week 2017
Day 3 - Flight
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Ahiru sat, wide-eyed, with her knees beneath her chin and her elbows on her knees. A nice, beachside wind tickled her nose; scattered scant sea salt before her eyes. She hummed.
'So this… machine of yours, Fakir… it'll really fly?' she asked.
'By my calculations it should… But not as good as you, Ahiru.' Fakir replied, a tad shy as he wiped his brow; only to spread grease in the wake of the sweat he had pushed aside with the back of his dirty hand.
'Thanks Fakir. Hearing that from you means a lot. I'm not good a lot of witch things but at least have flying… at least until you perfect your machine. And I know you will, Fakir! You're quick smart, after all!' Ahiru prattled.
Fakir smiled slightly; just a twinge of his lips but Ahiru saw it and knew what it meant.
'Thanks Ahiru.' he replied in a quiet voice before getting back to work.
If it were anyone else, Ahiru would find watching the mechanics of machinery to be quite boring but because it was Fakir, it was interesting. She's not sure if he knows but he tends to talk under his breath and he doesn't even talk about how the nuts and bolts ought to fit together on that rod. No, he talks of fairy tales and stories. It's really quite adorable - and amusing. Fakir has a brilliant mind after all.
He's so sharp and intelligent all whilst keeping this adorable creative side to himself. It's a shame really. Though, it ought to be noted it was the fantastical creative side that he kept to himself; his little muttered stories. After all, right now, Fakir was inadvertently flaunting how good with machines and his hands he was; in a masculine way rather than in the cutesy way he tells himself stories under his breath.
Ahiru keeps her ears and sharp and then she hears it: the "and they all lived happily ever after" thus ending another fabulous story. With a whistle, Fakir slides himself out from underneath his machine. He grins.
'It's ready.' he announces.
'Wait, really?!'
Ahiru can't help but get to her feet in a flurry.
'Yep… do you want to try it with me? Obviously it won't be good as flying on a broom but, maybe, it could be fun. To do. Together.' Fakir replied awkwardly.
'I'd love to!' Ahiru replied as she leapt at him into a hug. She gripped on tight with bright eyes. 'C'mon, c'mon, show me how it's done.'
'I'm not showing you anything.' Fakir said as he pushed her off. 'You'll probably mess up all the buttons. No wonder you can only fly broomsticks.'
'Whatever you say.' Ahiru replied.
Fakir took the front seat of his modified bicycle and Ahiru slotted in close behind him. From behind his back, it was true that she couldn't see a thing. She nuzzled in close though. At least his back was clean; unlike his grubby front and face. He was warm. Warmer than she expected.
Fakir huffed as he wheeled out of parking. The breaks slapped back and both were wobbly.
'Hold on tight.'
'You don't have to tell me that twice, dummy. That's flying one-oh-one.'
'Alright, well, welcome to flying two-oh-one because this is going to be very different to what you're used to.'
'I look forward to it.'
Fakir pushed off and already both his and Ahiru's heart raced. But neither could be certain as to why. It could be because of the adrenaline: the flight the likes the which the world had never seen before.
Or…
Or possibly, it could be because they were together like this.
