#suxedomask

There were darker times, days where Demando remembered how much he used to hate Serenity. Before Wiseman put weird ideas in his head, there was still this lingering feeling of betrayal and lack of understanding. Today was one of these days. ... What was she thinking?!

Maybe it was her way of dealing with enemies she didn’t want to finish herself. Sure, let them all alone with your husband, especially those he had all the reasons to still resent even after a peace treaty. Demando could be oblivious most of the time, but he still was able to acknowledge why the king he never liked probably returned the feeling. Oh wait, was that the reason maybe? He really hated Serenity. (well, he tried to convince himself.)

“Absolutely, thank you. They really make us feel...” his men, uh? Between the tall guy with brown waves who never missed an occasion to look down on him and make “I’m watching you” gestures behind the King’s back, the younger one who almost made him start a new war because of Rubeus and the quiet blonde one whose few words were enough to have even Saphir start reconsider the peace altogether... he didn’t know where to start. “... at home.” At least he was good with facades and polite smiles when half of his brain was siren noises and the other half on autopilot.

‘ don’t get blood on my floor. ’

"Stop putting your floor under my blood."

It was a childish response, but he was not arguing with a man. He was arguing with a trophy, and one that got away with whatever he wanted, simply because Berly liked her men with blue eyes.

For extra petty emphasis, he spat blood onto the polished tile just in front of Endymion's boots.

Shorter than he expected, bah! And here he was, considered taller than average in Japan.

He bit his tongue to keep a particularly rude Greek phrase about the man, a herd of goats, and his mother, choosing instead to put on a polite-but-biting smile before giving a shallow bow.

A frantic whisper came from a nearby corridor where Endymion waved at Zoisite. Craning his neck around the corner to check if the coast was clear, he trotted over to his most favorite shitennou at the moment.

"Have you seen Kunzite today? He looked so mad at breakfast! I don't want to face him at training if I don't have to..."

        Zoisite was no stranger to being consulted regarding Kunzite’s moods. Was the other really that hard to read? Were his moods not easy to discern? What was the point in asking others when one could easily just ask the eldest Shitennou himself?

        He set down the quill, putting a pause to the list he had been making for that day. Green eyes lifted from the parchment, and a pale brow rose.

        “Not since breakfast,” he stated truthfully. But unlike how the Prince had noted, Kunzite bore no sign of anger there. In fact, he seemed to be avoiding eye contact, keeping his head bowed. A keen eye might have noticed how the elder’s collar was done a little tighter that morning. His hair pulled carefully to hide his neck.

        Zoisite was particularly proud of the work he had done last night, and the sounds that they had produced. While Kunzite might have been as silent as a blushing milkmaid, Zoisite was entirely unbothered.