#*hans vw.

“it’s weird seeing you like this,” she said, a mildly amused grin upon her face as she gestured vaguely to his regalia. “...fully clothed and in front of people, i mean. although i suppose that’s the decent thing to now, seeing as we both technically taken.” dalia shrugged a narrow, glittering shoulder -- looking at him from beneath her lashes. being engaged is one thing, but no one could possibly disallow her from flirting with a handsome man, even if he just happens to be a crown prince. “heard you nabbed the italian princess, should i say congratulations?” ( @hrhhans​ ) 

oftentimes, the words in ariel’s mind would jumble with the overflowing emotions she felt, and now -- having marched up the stairs to the bungalow supporting the german flag -- she felt the exact same surge. perhaps it was the murderous look in her eyes that kept the german security at bay, perhaps they thought that she was no more than a spurned lover that refused to take the prince’s attitude laying down. but what ever the case, the portuguese strode straight into the sitting room with her anger bubbling in the surface. however, the only words that she could manage was: “you fucking asshole!” ( @hrhhans​ )