Ravenshadow Drabble
In apologies of... Scrapping my original Ravenshadow storyline, aka making it take so much longer- Enjoy this little thing.
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Hexmaster Ranjit Singh x Elliott Allan (Edgar's Dad): Enjoy!
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Persimmon bumps his head against Elliott's shoulder twice, before cawing and flying out of the bar. The man in question shuts his book, having not read any of the words the past ten pages. He didn't bother to check what his father was doing. Not like he ever needed to, not when he could hear the 2 women and masc person wearing an non-binary bracelet cooing over every raspy word Elias says. A deep sigh leaves his throat, as he makes his way to the door.
Despite his and his father's reputation as the travelling, bad boy librarians may tell, this part sucked. Not the catching up on his reading or the latest word-of-mouth stories he could flirt his way into gathering, or the motorbike. (Once his boy, Edgar, went to school, Elliott went and got his out of storage. He just prefered to drive, race Persimmon as if only the wind could could stop them now, and forget about his regrets. He could laugh again.) It was the picking up people, sleeping with random people, and what the fuck else. Don't get him wrong, it's not like he doesn't do that from time to time but he wishes he didn't have to.
The fresh air finally hits Elliott in the face, blowing away his thoughts. With a lose hand, he wades it through his fringe all the way to his fade, resting it on his neck. His long legs follow his bird, trusting him to lead. Tonight… just isn't his night. His brain felt more like a map, not taking in anymore information beyond what path led it back to a certain man, who crowded his thoughts more than Elliott had ever admitted. Probably will ever admit. Another sigh left his lips before Elliott noticed the ground under his feet turned from pavement to gravel to grass.
Persimmon sits, patiently, on the ground. He tilts his head as he stared up at Elliott. His human catches on and lays down on grass and some dead leaves, Persimmon hops onto his chest. He pushes himself under a side of the leather jacket and rest, knowing full well that Elliott won't be moving for a long while, not while Persimmon’s third favorite person rocks around in Elliott's head.
For fuck's sake, Elliott cursed. Every time he looks up at the night sky, filled with stars, all he sees are Ranjit’s eyes. Ranjit Singh, the Hexmaster of St. Churnleys, the 6’0 man with the tanned skin, black eyes that sparkle with light reflection, and the man who continuously holds guard over Elliott Allan’s heart, whether or not he remembers having it. Said organ begun thumping in his chest, forcing Elliott to lift his head up to ensure his raven is still resting which he is.
Eyes drifted back up, to the sky. Elliott squints his eyes to recognize a plane was flying overhead, immediately imagining the “Airplanes” song from however long ago. Said song forcing him to now think about how he went about this all wrong, about how he'd go back and “switch” his flight. If a tear fell past his temple, then that's only for him and the universe to know.
“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky
Are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now
Wish right now, wish right now”
As the odd black flying creature flew on overhead, Ranjit released the smoke from his mouth. Maybe silently hoping the smoke will obscure his vision, obscure the music in his head, obscure the mental image of a 6’6 tall, dark haired, dark eyes man. The very man who obviously moved on, long ago, if the bird cursed kid had anything to say about it.
What's done is done. That, however, doesn't make Ranjit wish for something different. That he chose something different, or that Elliott did, but they both chose this fate. He has to help the boys like him, he can't imagine himself doing anything different. No matter how much he wishes he could, if nothing else to just see a certain Allan again.
Ranjit throws his burnt cigarette into his shadow, cursing.