#[UMMMMMMMMM THIS ISN'T ALLOWED]

[ardenssolis]

@tenkoseiensei​ said (inbox):

he does not miss the other. he does not miss the other, as does the crimson-eyed austerity of the sage king obfuscate any semblance of conflict against the idea. no tenderness, nor bitterness, nor rotten, acrid longing. yet still does the body move to brush a lock of the pharaoh's hair, phantom knuckle touching featherlike against the other's skin in brazen impulse: a haunt, one that recalled the pharaoh's own warm touch upon his cheek once upon a time, now so long ago; cold. unlike the hearts of men and the dream-drifted thoughts of a doppelganger, there was nothing complex about this. as does the mock king, eager to excuse himself in a way that aligned with his character, neither smirk nor frown in the aftermath of his act. ' ... i won't have you seeming disheveled before me . '

     ARMS CROSSED OVER HIS chest, his attention was elsewhere as he stood like a silent sentinel beneath the sun’s gentle rays. This landscape they were in was nice. The weather was mild, and the breeze that touched his warmed skin was soothing rather than that of dry heat of his homeland. It was nice being able to experience all these different places, even if the reason for them coming to them were for business rather than for pleasure. ❝I am aware that I am breathtaking to behold, but I do not recall you ever staring this intently at me.❞ Tease came easily from his lips as he turned his head slightly to look upon the other out of the corner of his eye, lips curling just slightly at the corner in just the barest semblance of a smirk. What was going on in the other’s head? It was true that they held a rather amicable relationship, so much so that they could banter with one another in a way that most were not privy to with either, but Gilgamesh had been unusually more pensive than he normally was. Maybe there was something on his mind? Or perhaps like Ozymandias, he too was enjoying the weather.

     This the Pharaoh could understand.

     Turning a little more to further address the other, he blinked, taken aback as the other’s hand reached out to fix locks that had become disheveled in the wind. This Ozymandias had questioned, and the slight raise of his brows said what his mouth did not. Even the faint brush of the other’s knuckle against his cheek, as feather light as it had been, as easy as it had been to think it a simple slight of the hand, was still a great peculiarity. The fixing of his hair he could accept without question as it was not an abnormal action, but this other gesture? It was certainly…odd. His questions grew that much more, yet he did not ask them. Instead, he put that single action to memory, storing it away for future deliberation. ❝Mmm…I see,❞ he answered after a time, his own expression as difficult to read as the other’s now that initial surprise was gone. ❝Yes, it would not do for me to appear before others looking anything but perfect. You have my gratitude, Sage King.❞