Bel had fallen into step with the usual beeline towards the kitchen, humming quietly as he did so; The pleasant little flips that his heart was doing wouldn’t stop, and it was nice to feel that for a change rather than, well, nothing.
Entering the all too familiar kitchen he got to work- The routine was automatic, finding the powder and the milk, along with the mug for the contents to go in. Warming the milk in a pan only took five minutes (due to the lack of patience Bel was experiencing, he had turned the heat up to a temperature higher than it should have been), pouring it into the mug before literally throwing the used pan into the sink and adding the chocolate powder. Once mixed, the Prince picked the mug up, not bothering to clean as he walked out with the liquid carefully; Each step was careful, the boiling liquid in the mug threatening to slip out of the mug at each one, but after a few minutes of carefully conducted walking he made it to his own room, free hand opening the door as the other.
Fran wasn’t there.
Shrugging, he slowly shut the door behid him, moving over to the large bed and placing the mug down onto the side table; With a heavy set sigh, he dropped down onto the bed, arms moving to begin to take off his jacket.
In that moment, it hit him how exhausted he was- Not in the tired way, no, but in the mental way. Experiencing different emotions and having to have had behaved was foreign, new and utterly draining.
After making his way down the neverending corridor barefoot, the kouhai had finally arrived in front of the prince’s doorway and sighed in relief as soon as he did. Had their rooms always been this far apart? Fran felt like he walked a good five minutes or so…
“Excuse meee.” He hummed in monotone, twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open a little. He peeked in to see the blonde sprawled on his bed, along with the mess that never seemed to clean itself up. “Is he sleeping…?” The illusionist thought out loud before fully opening the door and stepping into Bel’s territory. He closed the door behind him and walked over to the ‘sleeping’ male before the mugs placed neatly on the side table caught his eye.
Without hesitating for a second, Fran took one of the mugs and blew at it before carefully sipping some of the warm liquid. Okay, maybe not warm. It was way too hot. He quickly pulled back with a hiss, leaving a funny looking milk mustache just above his upper lip. “Hot…”
(Source: lllussionist)
