Kyros rehabilitation date

It's been one month since Kyros is being rehabilitated.

Asheal waits by the seacliff of his silver manor. Several miles away of the Estate.

The view is a sea scape, with dots of sand being caressed by the waves.

All of it was right, for the blossoming relationship of putting a homophobic foreman in redemption.

It was at the time, the shape-shifting mini-excavator. Wanted to show what he had become, in that form.

He waited, on the bench.

An engine approaches. Along with a sound of an exhaust.

“I'd love for you to come out with whatever. I'm ready.”

Asheal reacts, his ears perking up in shock as the excavator with cartoon eyes blushes. It has something in its crane.

“Kyros??”

A groan came from the beast. Shyly looking away. It unhooks its crane, a pile of dirt comes of his italian shoes. A pile of flowers and manure. He yelps, yet it all turned into delight.

“It's my favourite, lavender! I'd kiss you! I-in your humanoid form.”

He can't speak English in this form, only blush. His grunish tongue was rubber, yet it's animated face was enough to show his reciprocation. Contentment.

“Grrrrrth- thh”

“You don't have to say anything, enjoy the view with me, won't you?”

It was peaceful.