#wranduin.

With a habit that was coming easier day by day Anduin pushed his wooden cane to his other hand, and shifted his weight to his better leg before he was reaching for the tavern door in front of him to knock on it. Only to notice that the door was already open, half closed like someone had just not pushed it hard enough before to make the lock click in place properly.

There were sounds on the other side of the door now that he paid attention to it. Muted voices talking amongst themselves. And Anduin was not one to sneak around and eavesdrop on private conversations and he was already withdrawing his hand back before he hesitated. A sound of laughter had carried from the other side of the door, catching the young prince's attention because he knew that voice.

Anduin struggled for a moment to choose between sating his curiosity and choosing what was polite and right. And he knew that he should have just walked away and come back again later. But he had never heard Wrathion's laughter ring so carefree during the months that he had known the intense dragon and he was gripped by deep curiosity.

The prince stared at the tips of his own shoes in hesitation with his hand still hovering in midair in indecision, every second spent standing behind the door making him more guilty of eavesdropping on purpose. But his feet just wouldn't move and he felt almost hypnotized by the allure of that handsome laughter, like a sailor being drawn in by the calling song of a siren. And much like that sailor walked over the edge of their ship in trance to follow that song, so did Anduin seem to lose control as he placed his hand back on the door, and gently pushed it in just a little bit to create the barest of cracks between the door and its frame.

The voices were a little less muffled like this but Anduin couldn't catch many clear words from the conversation. Instead he pressed his face closer to the door, and peeked in from the gap he had created that was barely wide enough to see through with a single eye, and spied on the scene that opened up before him.

The room was sparsely furnished, but the evening sun was casting it into a soft idyllic light through the round Pandaren windows. He could see Left and Right standing next to a table with scattered scrolls and map markers littered on it, and what looked like a sin'dorei woman wrapped in the familiar Blacktalon leathers sitting on a chest beside them flipping a coin with one hand.

Wrathion himself was sitting in a bamboo chair that he had tilted back to its rear legs, offering a sideview for the spying prince of his surprisingly relaxed demeanor. He was clad in his usual regalia, covered in rich silks, leathers and black scales, his pointy toed boots propped against the edge of the table to push himself back with. But his trademark turban was sitting on the table beside him, instead allowing Anduin to spy a rare view of his short and messy dark curls and the curious short black horns that sprouted from the middle of the curly locks.

The Black Prince was looking uncharacteristically relaxed and open. Playfully rocking himself back and forth on the chair daringly as he chatted with his most trusted agents. Just the simple matter of his turban missing and his posture relaxed making him look almost dressed down and casual. If that was at all possible for the larger than life dragon.

But it wasn't just the relaxed stance or the rare view of his hair and horns that had Anduin spellbound, but the way Wrathion's face morphed as he laughed again. His glowing crimson eyes squeezed shut and curtained by dark lashes, his lips curled back just enough in a grin to offer a view of his sharp canines, and his facial features softened in a way that Anduin had only maybe glimpsed before during one of their evenings spent together.

And his laughter, so carefree and light like this, found a space from the blonde prince's heart to make a warm nest in.

Suddenly like burned Anduin pushed back and stepped unevenly away from the door, realizing that his heart was racing and his stomach had been abruptly filled with aggressive butterflies. His cheeks were already heating up both from the embarrassment of his own sneaky very un-princely like behavior, and from the dawning realization of just why exactly he had been so transfixed by his tavern mate's presence for weeks now.

Wrathion might have been boastful, suspicious at best, self-important, a sore loser, and downright rude at times. But he was also funny, incredibly smart, sharp and observant, knowledgeable about so many things, and quite possibly the cutest boy Anduin had ever met.