Today’s writing prompt was so very Eral that I had to do it. It also actually came to a decent conclusion in the word limit I set on these (my 2018 writing prompt challenge is to write 300 drabbles). So, I decided to post it since it’s been a while since I’ve shown anything with these dorks. The prompt part is in bold, and the source is at the following link.
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“Give me one good reason why I should let you buy a cart full of fireworks.”
Eral stared up at Elias with as much no-nonsense energy in his expression as he could manage. At this point, Elias should know why he shouldn’t be allowed to buy a cart full of fireworks. Sure, he had loads of money and could afford it, but that was only the monetary cost. Eral knew what kinds of other costs came with letting Elias do anything, and he wasn’t about to incur something like that.
Elias made a show of pouting, and his eyes scanned over the cart once more. The man who owned it wore a perplexed look to see a pixie so commanding of someone 12 times his size, but otherwise didn’t say anything. It was for the best; Eral didn’t want to have to scold him, too.
“Eral, I don’t know why you don’t trust me,” Elias finally lamented. “Here I thought it would just be a nice way to celebrate. We’ve done a lot of good work the last few weeks!”
Eral closed his eyes and took a slow breath. He was used to Elias’ acting skills and persuasion, but it would be better not to snip at him too much. With people watching, it only made him look like the bad guy, which deepened his sense that he was some kind of babysitter for the demigod of mischief.
“Why don’t you just go with a sparkler or two, instead of the entire godsdamn cart?” he asked, crossing his arms.
Elias raised his eyebrows and a smirk appeared at the corners of his mouth. Eral knew that look and cursed himself for his suggestion. Elias looked smug as hell with his next statement. “So my foot is in the door for some fireworks,” he pointed out. “What about more fireworks? I’ll even let you have your own sparkler.”
Eral covered his face with his hands. “Why on the sleeping earth do I bother,” he mumbled into his palms, while Elias finally ignored his warnings to start paying the cart owner.
Damage control is gonna be a bitch tomorrow.
Writerly Things 