Our walk to my home—after Dorian recovered from whatever trance Ridgeton High had put him in— continued in silence. Unfortunately, this was the chance my anxiety needed to fuel the already raging worries of how Dorian was going to react to the state of my house. By the time we reached the entrance, hands couldn't even handle unlocking the door without dropping my keys twice first.

   Somehow however, I survived long enough to give him a tour of the kitchen, living room and even the attic (its door anyway. Still terrifying, remember?). I didn't give him a chance to get a good glimpse of the bedrooms though. I wasn't that brave.

"We just walked through the kitchen." I tried to ignore my pounding heart. "We are currently in the living room. The other important rooms, as well as the attic, are upstairs. What we're walking into is my workspace, what I like to call the multi-purpose room."

   Never called the garage that in my life but it suddenly felt childish to call it the garage/device/.... you know.

"I'm assuming everything should be set up there, right?" He pointed to the only large table at the centre of the room.

   I had to give him points for not asking why every inch of the room except the table was covered with old tarps and cloths. It was something I'd made sure to do during my crazy cleaning spiral of the whole house for his and the other arrival. All old clothes, shoes and toys, the washing machine, the devices I'd recreated throughout the years and everything else that made up the room was hidden under thick, opaque covers. Perfectly hid-

   My eyes grew big when they caught sight of two comics I had forgotten on the table we were about to use for the drones. I rushed to swipe and kick them into my set of comic books under the tarp.

"Yes. Right here." I gulped.

   So much for hidden.

   Thankfully, in a typical Dorian fashion, he ignored my gesture and set his backpack on the table. My brows were raised at the astonishing amount of device parts that were shaken out. In less than ten seconds, the table was already filled with propellers, motors, controllers and all the other parts needed to make a tiny drone for every member of a small village.

"I know it's a lot," he admitted. "And I know you said you have an almost finished one already, but I was thinking maybe with these materials, we could make it better?"

You mean, not look like junkyard tech? I resisted the impending eye roll. And here I was thinking one Zavolonian's condescension was sufficient to handle.

"Even if we made it better," I gripped my hands into fists. "It's still more than enough for everything."

"Yeah, about that," he said, tapping his fingers on the table. "I was thinking maybe we made an extra kind? Just in case."

"Just in case what? My original screws up and you've proven your point?"

   I refused to flinch at the hardened expression he threw my way in response. Why did he get mad at the words he basically brought upon himself?

"Let's just begin," Dorian mumbled, spreading out the pile of devices around the table for easier access.

   While helping him do so, I laid my eyes on a gadget I knew all too well.

"Is that a feather propeller?" I asked anyway.

   I reached over his frame to grab the device, brushing the light blades of the fan and trying not to sigh in awe. I had wanted them for as long as I could remember. The feather propellers were released around the time I began with my remake of Piccolissima-- the drone we were about to complete right now. I remember how much I'd preferred them to use these propellers instead of the one I had at that time. Sadly however, the chances of finding them in the junkyard was next to nothing. But now, they were really here.

"Yes." he nodded. "One of the modifications I was going to suggest. I assume you didn't use one since the original Piccolissima didn't either. I think, judging by the estimated hearing capacity of the Yunies however, the feather propellers would be best."

   Of course they were! The buzzing sounds associated with drones was eradicated with the use of the lightweight, soundless, feather propellers. Their sound frequencies could not be heard by the average human ear. Any noise the Yunies might still hear could be mistaken for a pesky fly.

"This is great Dorian, thanks. I'm sure we can get the two drones ready in no time with your help."

"That's the plan," he affirmed with a nod.

"Okay," I replied. "Then we can begin."

"You know, I was thinking maybe we should go beyond subtlety," he said. "Rav's still doing his research on the Yunies so for all we know, they could have, like, super eyesight or something."

"Well, the clear-coloured thermoset plastic you brought for the drone's outer parts is the next best thing to invisibility..." I trailed off when my wide eyes viewed another material Dorian selected from the table. "Holy crap. Is that a Camouflage Chameleon wrap?"

   This elastic material had the ability to blend in with any colours it came into contact with. It was often used in wrapping the boxes of important government or hospital packages to ensure their safe delivery. Some people, however, used them as an opportunity to sneak items through various borders. 

"Yep." I couldn't look away from the material Dorian twirled between his fingers as he explained, "At last year's Robotics Tournament, it was a long shot, but I was able to acquire some from one of my opponents."

"This material can blend in with any structure, colour, skin tone! The Yunies cannot possibly stand a chance with this and the feather propellers. Thank you, Dorian, really." I smiled.

"Pleasure."

   As he beamed back at me, it struck me how the smile of his avatar during the dance had nothing on the real thing. You know how it's weird when the people who rarely smile finally do? The sense of paranoia which settles in every part of you and how it is impossible to not get creeped out?

   Dorian's had the opposite effect. It was a contagious warmth.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

"Uh, yeah." I turned my heated cheeks away. Not that he could see the blood rushing to my cheeks anyway. Thank God for melanin. "Let's."

   Through countless Mechanics textbooks, online tutorials and tips from my remake, we had improved the first drone and were already working on the parts of the second drone.

"Screwdriver please?" His current task was with making final touches on the first drone.

   I looked from my wiring work with the tiny propellers. After the tool at my side of the table, I placed the screwdriver to his outstretched hand.

"Thanks." He shot an appreciative grin my way and returned to his work.

   Yeah, it wasn't just you. I too was still trying to wrap my head around the cool, charismatic mood Dorian had maintained after he'd smiled at me for thanking him about the feather propellers. He had stayed like this despite being coped up in this heated, stuffy garage for who knows how many hours. With me.

"Please, please, please work," I muttered as I joined the last wires needed for the drone's propeller fan to work. "Shit!"

   The emitting sparks from the joined wires freaked me out into taking multiple steps backwards. In my rush however to, you know, not die, my feet didn't notice what was behind me until I crashed back first into my comic book pile I had taken extra care to cover with a tarp earlier.

"Beth?" Dorian and his voice of concern stood above my embarrassed frame.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" I tried to free myself from the tarp but ended up in knots instead.

"I'll help you up, come on."

   I hoped the 'thank you' I mumbled as I grabbed his held out hand didn't sound too sheepish.

"You're wel—Whoa!" His response was replaced with shock when he reached over to nurse the side of his cheek I had just smacked in my attempt to stand.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry."

   I can't believe I hit him in the face when he was only trying to help! Great, now I had to worry about my hands going crazy as well.

   Well, at least I was on my feet again.

"Stupid tarp." I glared at the material piled up beneath me before proceeding to kick it out of the way.

   The tarp however, which I was now convinced was the devil's incarnate, had a piece of it still hidden under my other foot, causing me to slip again, landing on my butt this time. Hard.

   I didn't notice Dorian's hand had still been gripping mine until he jerked forward as well, tumbling right onto my sprawled out frame.

   Dead silence filled the room as we locked eyes. I couldn't say the same for him, but the rapid breaths that escaped me had nothing to do with his weight on every inch of my body.

   Every part of him was so close.

   Until he wasn't. Our connection broke when he rolled off to lay beside me.

   No words were exchanged as we maintained our prospective positions on the floor.

   Suddenly, deep, heavy breaths of laughter echoed within the room, getting louder with each taken pause for air. I should've been beyond shocked to hear Dorian laugh so hard since this was the first and probably last time I was going to hear this, but my humiliation engulfed every part of me, only paving way for anger when he wouldn't stop.

"Why are you laughing?" I scowled at Dorian from my side of the floor as my fingers moved to soothe the whiplash felt in my back. "You do realise you're also on the floor, right?"

"I'm—" he choked before erupting into even more laughter. "I'm so—I'm sorry. But how can one person cause this much chaos in less than a minute?"

   At that question, he lost it completely. Guess the fall didn't have much of an impact on his butt. He didn't appear to be affected at all. Jerk.

   Maybe it was my head finally losing it from so much trauma or me trying to forget he had just been on top of me, but his humorous spirit was suddenly contagious enough to seep right into me and join in.

   That was the day Dorian Mathers and I shared Jokerthevillain-level crazy laughs on my garage floor. One of the best I had ever had.

"Hey," Dorian, still trying to recover his breath, had risen into a sitting position and pointed to the table. "Look."

"What?" I got up to trace his stare and hand.

   The propeller fan.

   It was working. 

A/N: Who else gets the feels in these Beth and Dorian moments😌?

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