I don't know what to say about myself. Maybe the fact that I wrote this at 12:00 AM in the morning.
Well, this isn't really intended as slash or anything, but I'm cool with it if you interpret it as such.
Happy reading!

I never really expected such a confrontation, especially not in Erestor's office at such an ungodly hour in the morning.

It made me wonder whether or not this was planned, and though I was fully awake, I wasn't sure that I was conscious. Once again, a shiver of small proportions, almost like the domino that would set off all other dominos, the dreaded chain reaction, passed down my spine, but I tried to ignore it, much like I tried to ignore the prompting of my sensible mind to flee when my headstrong heart refused to put any motion into action besides lacing my fingers behind my back in amusement. But I squashed down the feeling of apprehension and figured I may as well enjoy what was happening while it lasted.

The sun was shining normally, and the office was as impeccable of its cleanliness and orderliness as ever, with the bookshelf propped up against the biege wall without a single book out of place. Perhaps only Erestor was the only thing unusual in this room, since I could see no other oddity.

"Well, this is unexpected," I started to say.

"Do not even say it."

I held my hands up in a gesture of peace, nearly catching them together as I finally remembered to disentangle them. No matter how much I would have liked to speak my mind, I would not allow humor to compromise survival.

Erestor was always too serious to find many things funny, except for when I received a bucket of honey, that was colored with orc blood, upturned upon my head though thankfully not tar, because apparently he could not assert any sort of logic behind the act besides the fact that I had that one tendecy to unintentionally appear amusing eftsoons I removed the bucket that could prove lethal enough to drown.

"Would you like me to...?" I trailed off politely, but also out of the fact that Erestor's glare proved very disconcerting to any unfortunate Elf on the other end of it. "I'll just be leaving then," I said slowly, turning around and trying to mask my haste at reaching for the doorknob. However, opening the door descended into rattling the elongated limb I held onto anxiously, and finally pushing against the door in frustration with an added sigh for good measure as I surrendered to the superiority of the locked door.

Then I turned back to Erestor, who had closed his eyes. I never really noticed before how fragile he seemed, how marble-like and easily shattered he was.

"I will only ask of you this once," he said stiffly, "but you must not divulge this to anyone else. Or your hair will return to that charming, extremely becoming and sanguinolent shade of dark red."

I smirked. "Of course, Erestor. But," I drawled as I strode behind him and started unlacing strings carefully, brushing aside his hair over his shoulders, "how did you get into...such a monstrosity?"

The light was extremely convenient at this time, for it highlighted his bare shoulders nicely.

"Elladan and Elrohir," he ground out in annoyance, his fingers clenched into fists tightly, and so tightly that his knuckles were white. "With Arwen's idea of..."

"Putting you in this," I finished for him, sliding fabric away so he could remove it.

Nodding his thanks and stepping away, he pulled his arms out of the sleeves and grimaced, seeing my ill-hidden amusement. "If you laugh, Glorfindel, I will get you back for it," he told me calmly, pulling a tunic over his head as he did so.

Pity. He looked very stunning in that dress.