*After a few minutes' walk from the shopping-district, the Prince spots a familiar back bowed against the waterside as dusk settles around him, and can't help but watch him fondly.
He certainly is... beautiful. Deeply beautiful, with his fine, childish bones and rich eyes, and still Roy can't shake off the resonating familiarity in each soft smile. He's tempted just to pay silent witness to the serene moment, waiting from afar and leaving the boy lost in thought. But then his fingers recall the smooth board of the box they hold, and he glances down at his gift- urging to be given.
Wordlessly, then, he approaches the figure and rests a hand against his shoulder in greeting. His eyes dance, and he teases him in a soft voice;*
*Maes jumped. A hand on his shoulder. Was it Dante's? Had she come to fetch him a little early? When he turned around was he going to find her mass of tentacles and her cruel laugh?!
He didn't want to look. He was scared to.
Then his voice came.
He turned immediately, that look of panic he'd had earlier still on. He froze, breathless...*
*...then quickly his face turned red as it usually did and he smiled with relief. Even if they didn't kiss in time, at least he'd get to see him one more time before it was all over...*
*If Roy notices this, he says nothing. Instead, he lowers himself onto the dusty stone of the canal wall, the box resting innocuously at his side, removes his shoes and- in a fashion quite unbecoming of a future Danish king- allows his bare feet to slip beneath the water's surface, trailing companionably.
A few seconds of silence lace the distance between their bodies, before Roy passes his gift to Maes.*
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He certainly is... beautiful. Deeply beautiful, with his fine, childish bones and rich eyes, and still Roy can't shake off the resonating familiarity in each soft smile. He's tempted just to pay silent witness to the serene moment, waiting from afar and leaving the boy lost in thought. But then his fingers recall the smooth board of the box they hold, and he glances down at his gift- urging to be given.
Wordlessly, then, he approaches the figure and rests a hand against his shoulder in greeting. His eyes dance, and he teases him in a soft voice;*
...Kronen for them...?
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He didn't want to look. He was scared to.
Then his voice came.
He turned immediately, that look of panic he'd had earlier still on. He froze, breathless...*
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A few seconds of silence lace the distance between their bodies, before Roy passes his gift to Maes.*
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