--;♔

... If he wanted? Huh. Pretty submissive guy. And here Leon was expecting some sort of smartass rebuttal, but he sounded pretty sincere. "If ya don't get hot easily, then there's no need to change your clothes... s'your choice really." He assured, glancing behind the other, where he caught sight of a few of his servants chatting amongst themselves and making random hand gestures.

Shit.

Were they looking for him? No, no. He slept in past the hour he was supposed to train. He was sure of it this time!

It was not until the spell was up, that he could breathe easily again and hear the other boy’s words.

Cinaed, the country of fire. Oh how he wished he was anywhere but here. Everywhere he goes, everywhere he looks, he’s reminded of the violent element that melted his flesh and scarred his face. Of the agonizing pain, of his mother.

He would have stayed in his room, fearful of the bright and glowing country surrounding him—but now was not the time. He was here, to maintain the peace between two rival countries, and he can’t fail his kingdom now. 

So with a weary sigh, he pulled himself of bed and donned simple black jeans, shirt, and a sweater. True, he usually wears revealing and flirty clothing—but that was not to say he didn’t own anything normal. 

Glancing though the door to his room, he spotted a hall he didn’t remember. Then again, last night he was too tired to notice anything. A good place as any, to start.

But he was not even one yard away from his room, around a corner, before he bumped into a boy, hard. And landed on top of the boy on the ground.

Who the hell..

"Ow ow ow.." The prince brought a hand over his eyes, groaning as he gripped the others arm and picked himself up, still a little wobbly from the impact.

Leon didn't know the names, nor the faces of a good majority of the citizens of Cinaed, along with outsiders, but he did know the inhabitants that lived in his own kingdom. And this boy was not one of them. He could tell even with his eyes covered, though it was confirmed as soon as he dropped his hand. 

Who in their right mind would wear a sweater in Cinaed? The country of fire, a place that was well over 80 degrees all around the year. No one was stupid enough to wear such ridiculously warm clothes in a place that was rarely, if ever cold.

hopelessdance replied to your post: SCREAMS BECAUSE I HAVE THE BEST SON EVER

u have a son

yes and her name is Chelsea

what

If it isn’t the little prince.

The twins bowed in unity, saluted formally with their hands above their hearts. They has no particular respect for royalty, but that is not to say they have no respect. It is merely that they see people as people, such superficial titles have no impact on them. They judge based on actions, and not appearances alone.

The king, for example, they do not know well. From what they have seen, he seems to be hold high care for his kingdom, though is easily strayed. The queen weights above him, in their eyes. She holds herself high, and preserves her dignity. However, they do not hold the highest position for the twins. For there is a prince, who despite his attitude and vanity, despite his stubbornness and disobedience, still strives to be a person high above his ability. All for the sake of a mother long gone, all because of a bitter lesson of humility. 

It is to be said, they respect the little prince very much. 

“Your majesty—”

“do you require our assistance?”

Their actions synchronized eerily, the twins gestured to the prince with their hands in question.

“If there’s anything we—”

“—may help you with,”

And though they never said it out loud, Leon truly believed they respected him because of his past. Because of his unyielding desire to make his mother proud. Because Leon was, without a doubt, different from other prince's.

They would have no other reasons to respect him because Leon understood full well that didn't just respect anyone regardless of their status. Not only that, but they treated him exactly the same as everyone else, until he opened up to the pair.

From then on, they were his friends and he wouldn't trade them for anything.

"Heh, how many times do I have to tell ya? It's not 'your majesty.' S'leon." He corrected them,  uncomfortable with the formal greeting, but smiling brightly nevertheless.

"Ah, but--I don't really need anythin'.. I was just gonna go get some trainin' done..." He sighed, gaze casting to the ground. He thought he had slept in long enough to avoid having to go train, but as it turns out, he had woken up an hour early. He really hated when that happened.

Alair glanced at the boy before him dryly before turning away, gazing elsewhere. After he had finally found a relatively quiet surrounding to read, he was interrupted… again. But the fact that someone had disrupted his reading was merely a portion of the reason that he was upset. After all, ever since he had joined the militia, he had nothing on his mind but a strong anxiety preventing him from the daily activities he usually does on a regular basis.

But all that aside, the boy on the other hand, seemed to not be in the best mood either. 

Well, at least I’m not the only one…