We're Not That Close
“Aslan Berkant! You are a dead man!”
Aslan looked up from the blade he was sharpening as Elliot approached. The young man seemed angry, though the reason escaped him. The way his friend was stalking across the barracks in his stocking feet, though, he was about to find out.
“Give them back!”
“Give what back?”
“You know what!” Elliot said in a huff. “Don’t play the fool with me. Those are my boots!” demanded the young man, pointing at Aslan’s feet. The foreigner wiggled his toes inside the soft leather shoes and grinned.
“But Elliot,” he said, “they’re so comfortable.”
a/n: prompt: “stop stealing my shoes”