#⌇the eyes of the ruthless justice ( 𝙂𝙖𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙚 | IC )

[distopea]

@nezumivc103221 That’s right. Stay down.

He knows it's provocation, he knows it tickles his instincts. He knows he should not indulge...

"Can't wait to stay down next time you'll get in trouble."

[distopea]

Like a ticking bomb between them, words were overflowing into their mouths before they could think about it. Both of them were prideful idiots, and the lack of communication was their worst enemy at this very moment. He noticed her shift of attitude, her lack of confidence regarding if they were indeed in danger or not, but scratching her ego was a deeper wound than being truly worried about the rest of their journey. He had found that switch inside of her, once again, preventing the conversation from being remotely mature. They were both adults, but sometimes, they had the talking ability of teenagers. 

“For fuck’s sake, Hibiko, of course she could have been! You told me to be careful, the very fact you’re terrified to show your face should have been enough for you to stop yourself from talking to anyone!” His anger matched hers, even more when she was excusing her attitude over something so lame and dull than having a chat with someone in a shop. She didn’t want to lose face, and he could understand, but at the same time, he was profoundly worried and only wanted to protect her. 

“Are you kidding me?” Now he understood, but far too late. She had silently opened one important door earlier, and he hadn’t read the signals. He hadn’t understood how worried she was, and the fact she wanted him to ask for further information. Despite having the same goal, there was a big misunderstanding. “I… I have never treated you that way and you know it. You think you’re some kind of overtime for me?” But he was seeing red again, accused of things he had never done. All that push and pull game between them felt utterly irritating now she was shoving into his face all of this bitter poison. “I thought you didn't want me to sniff into your privacy, and now you want more from me? What do you want exactly, Hibiko? Am I not devoted enough? It’s never enough, isn’t it?” 

Yet, when she demanded he unlock the car, he hesitated for a second before slamming the button and letting her having her space. “Hibiko!” He wanted to warn her, to tell her to be careful, but at the same time, all that scolding felt outside of his line of work. She escaped the car and he deeply and profoundly breathed. He grabbed the wheel to control his emotions, his heart pounding inside his chest. He needed to stay down.

Even if he was attracted to her, she was still his boss. After a few seconds, he looked aside to be certain she was still there, remembering that, despite all those feelings, he was still working for her. He started to grab the handle of the door to get out of the car himself, but she moved faster, getting back inside the vehicle but keeping her distance this time. 

He observed her through the mirror, his own heart squeezed harder when he noticed she was so close to crying. He was facing such an awful dilemma right now, knowing that if he ever tried to comfort her, he would be crossing another line. He had to fucking stop messing with his work like that. He pinched his lips harder to stop himself from talking. He inhaled and started the engine again, switching the GPS back on. 

He joined the highway once more, his eyes focused on the road, even if they were easily attracted by her sight. He hated to see her so silent, vulnerable, and he hated himself even more for being the reason why she was in such a state of mind. The silence between them was quite oppressive, but even so, he didn’t know what to do.

“We’re getting closer to our destination.” He eventually said, with a softer tone. She would probably ignore him now. Gabriele was ready to face her disappointment. Deep down, though, he already knew he would find a moment later tonight to talk with her again, after they would be perhaps less inclined to lose their temper, and certainly far from the madding crowd. 

An eyeroll before looking to Gabriele, grasping so much that he wanted her attention back from all the huffing and puffing he wasn't letting Hibiko ignore. "Okay slow down for one," she ordered, trying to regain control of the situation as his driving caused her to take a firm hold on anything to anchor herself. "No, I don't-" think so. Confidence in the lie faltered as she was too quick to deny any chance of danger. The stutter is clearly enough to be a dead giveaway.

It was like she saw them heading towards a concrete wall and was unable to do anything about it. Hibiko quickly felt herself begin to crumble with guilt and remorse over the selfish stress she caused for Gabriele. As he changed course, Hibiko prepared herself to beg for forgiveness, wishing to wash the whole incident behind them. But his anger built up just as quickly, not allowing her the opportunity to take responsibility.

Hitting a switch, Pride being faced with his demands put an immediate stop to that weak girl wanting to explain herself, and instead took over. "Because two women at a beauty shop are going to be yakuza?" She rhetorically snapped back, ignoring the fact that the queen had a similar concern before going in.

Her head and shoulders turned away from the road to confront Gabriele about the outburst she attempted to prevent. "Funny, I remember offering you a further explanation and you decided it easiest to just work off knowledge gained from rumors and baseless accusations." The assumptions Hibiko made were leaps and bounds from where they were in reality, but the idea that Gabriele assumed he knew all he needed from what was heard from other employees and guests was significantly easier to swallow than the reality of this just being another job. "All you care about is some nice overtime, right? So long as I get home in one piece, nothing else matters."

Suddenly feeling suffocated, the seatbelt came off and she attempted to open the locked door. "You're going to take the easy way of protecting me from everything outside of four controlled walls-- Open the fucking door." She demanded, needing the fresh air to somehow cure her overflowing emotions. It wasn't as if there was anywhere to run to, anyway, so long as she was given some distance from the root cause of this disastrous drive.

Slamming the car door behind her, Hibiko stood there a moment, waiting to feel better about the release of frustration that was hardly good enough. It only took a few breaths before having enough clarity to know it was better to stay in the car. Ripping the ugly sweater off, Hibiko threw it in the back seat before joining it, now seated at a safe distance from the emotionless brick wall she had tried to warn earlier before being pushed away.

Finally safe in her rightful spot, the tension that had built up suddenly attempted to release itself. But it was not how she wanted it to. She felt her eyes begin to water, forcing choked back tears as the anger tried to fully return to the more honest reaction: hurt. Hurt that he refused her earlier confessional, but embarrassment and regret for getting caught in her own web.

It took everything in her to not let her vulnerability show. A progressively tightening brow, a jaw clenching more and more with each little twitch she had to fight against. A pensive silence filled the car. Without any further visual or verbal communication, she mentally begged him to drive, unable to run away from the shame on her own.

[distopea]

This is why he can't work efficiently. He's surrounded with brats. A bunch of marmocchio...

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi skill issue 💁🏼‍♂️

"Funny these issues made you moan so hard last night."

[distopea]

Days are back to being warm.

That's when Gabriele starts to scratch my little head, because I have been sleeping for too long...

[distopea]

@un1awful coward!

"You're done?"

[distopea]

@cantuscorvi Oh he gets it. He's just hole to you, huh. 😒

"A very stupid one, it seems. What are you expecting from your guard dog anyway?"

[distopea]

@nezumivc103221 MARRIAGE? He’ll rather stay dead, he won’t take the hand of a man who realised what he lost and changed his mind. Leave the ring on the tombstone.

See? No need to prove his point. This is marital kindship gfsuygf

[distopea]

“Tsk. Let me see that.”

The words were quick and terse as his hand darted out to take hold of Gabriele’s. Tiny shards of glass were embedded in the bodyguard’s knuckles, thin as papercuts. For some time now, he’d been watching Gabriele out of the corner of his eye, struggling to pluck them out with his left hand.

“Hold still.” Raum snatched the tweezers from him as well with a huff, then started to pluck the glass out from his hand. There were only a few left, hard to reach without help, and Raum would rather not have to sit next to Gabriele cursing to himself in Italian all evening.

He focused on his task and allowed his mind to wander back to how it had occurred. Uncontrolled, a little quirk of amusement slowly appeared upon his lips.

“You have a nasty right hook, Vasco,” he spoke after a moment of quiet, continuing to pluck. “He never saw it coming — not until you’d already smashed his glasses. The look on his face. . .”

A low hum of a laugh escaped him then, before he set the tweezers aside. He brought the older man’s hand closer to his eyeline, checking for leftovers. Little drops of blood were forming between Gabriele’s knuckles where the glass was removed. Raum watched it happen— struck for a moment at what exactly Gabriele’s role was to him.

Slowly he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Gabriele’s knuckles. Blue eyes flicked up to capture his face, a signal.

He wouldn’t say ‘thank you’ — the protection Gabriele offered belonged to him.

Lips parted slightly, and the tip of his tongue peeked out to lap at Gabriele’s blood.

This blood was also his. Spilled instead of his own.

So, this was the kind of dog he would have on his leash — the one who would hang on his every command in the future. Raum met Gabriele’s eyes and grinned slightly, his nose crinkling into a sneer. He couldn’t wait.

@cantuscorvi

He didn’t need help. 

Even if he had been toying his hand for the past thirty minutes, Gabriele was religiously focused on his task and wouldn’t formulate any request to get help. It was a question of honor, self-respect, and probably a generous amount of misplaced ego. He was still driving through that wave of anger, the very one that had pushed him into attacking that man and smashing his glasses, along with half of his nose in the process. He had created a mess; his inner passion and rough rage pushed to their limits thanks to that minx who was sitting next to him. 

“No,” Gabriele growled as he heard Raum eventually offer his help, probably exceeded by his curses and lack of success regarding the extraction of those small pieces of glass. That was the only reason why his princely ass would actually do something to ease his pain. He wanted peace. 

The bodyguard hadn’t been quick enough. While he was moving his fingers under the light of the ceiling to catch a glimpse of small shredded glass stuck deep inside his skin, Raum had snatched away his precious tool, gripping the tweezers with that everlasting satisfied look plastered on his young features. A content cat who was winning the game. Gabriele longly sighed. 

“I said I could do it myself.” He mumbled again but didn’t resist much when Raum grabbed his hand. A part of him was quite satisfied to get pampered, his blood boiling within his veins, as truly, he had no patience anymore to deal with that shit. “Use the antiseptic... Mamma mia! No! Not like that! Fa male!” He snapped, and while he didn’t enjoy Raum’s methods at first, the sudden sharpness coming from the extracted piece of glass was quite painful when he wasn’t the one holding the tweezers. 

He stared back at his protegee, a frown crossing his tan skin, ready to curse again if Raum wasn’t being so careful. But once more, eyeing Raum in that state of half satisfaction and half happiness was a vision Gabriele profoundly liked. It was intimately soothing everything within him; as he knew, he was witnessing something rare. Someone he had provoked. He liked it. He liked it far more than he could ever admit. He sighed again, preparing himself for the discomfort of those ridiculously small injuries when Raum aimed again for his palm. 

“For a four-eyed man, he truly hasn’t seen it coming.” Gabriele answered, the corner of his lips curling into a vicious and petty smile. It was true that he had a nasty right punch, and despite the current pain, he was proud of himself for that perfect delivery. But perhaps he was thriving because Raum seemed to enjoy it as well. 

The bodyguard’s eyes darkened, while eventually the tweezers were put aside, and his hand scanned under the cold blue retina of the blond. He could almost feel his breath skimming his epidermis, provoking a few goosebumps here and there, but mostly onto Gabriele’s forearm. It was potentially more painful than before, as he imagined many scenarios all at once, burning his iris with forbidden fantasies. That kid… Always playing with fire. Always provoking what shouldn’t be. 

“Raum…” Gabriele warned, when, like the petty boy he was, he couldn’t help but push the game further, his tongue darting out to taste the forbidden bloody nectar of his skin. It was Gabriele’s role to remain responsible and focused, trying to push out of his mind those desires where that little attitude would only result in a pair of pants pushed down his legs and his pristine skin blushing under a different kind of fire. 

It pissed him off. 

Those eyes locked on him. That smile. 

If they were equals, it would be so different. 

“Stop that.” Gabriele snapped his fingers away, shaking his fingers as if he had been stung back something unwanted. He coldly looked at Raum, even if his mind was burning with an awful passion that was almost impossible to refrain from. He eventually grabbed the bottle of antiseptic onto the table and poured the entire liquid over his wounds.

It hurt like a bitch. But it was a salvation.

“Mamma mia, non posso credere che tu pulisca ferite del genere.” Gabriele pushed his hair back onto his skull and stood back up, taking this perfect opportunity to fly away before the situation might escalate into something where he knew there wouldn’t be any kind of control coming from his side.

[distopea]

"Mmmh... No. Not good." He said with his heavy Italian accent, while he stood behind the person they have asked for a photo in front of this gorgeous landscape. He couldn't help it; he didn't like bad photographies. "You're not catching the light the right way... Let me..."

He grabbed the phone and eyed his model, waiting for them to pose properly.

[distopea]

I'm trying to get to things but I have this policeman in my head these days.

[distopea]

Despite his best efforts not to stare at Raum, Gabriele couldn’t help but observe him. He knew that the prodigal son had been far from home for a long time, and he wondered, secretly, why and how much he despised the place. He was fitting this whole mansion; from the elegance of the furniture to the luxury of his clothes, and his haughty attitude. The way he was moving was matching how Friedrich used to be, even if, clearly, Gabriele perceived a profound difference between these two. 

“Yes, he did. He said that you wouldn't have prepared anything, so he made sure you would be ready. He truly insisted on you having it.” Gabriele answered when Raum asked him if Cyrus was the one who had given him that letter. He had never liked the man as well, but the reaction of his nephew was strangely more concerning than he had expected. He felt the hesitation in his voice and his sudden coldness towards the name pronounced. He didn’t exactly know what was going on in Raum’s head. Perhaps it was only a bit of distrust, but surely Gabriele shouldn’t be the one analyzing everything like that. 

Fortunately for him, his concern was soon eclipsed by his other request and the fact that, during those two hours, his new protégé would require his help. He had anticipated a pure refusal on his side, but surprisingly enough, Raum accepted and led him to his room. For a second, Gabriele felt out of his place. It wasn’t the first time he had assisted a man with dressing for a special occasion, but there was a hidden tongue in everything they were sharing. He had the sensation of going through a real interview process for the first time, enlightened by this more than intimate atmosphere. 

“My intentions, Sir?” Gabriele asked, his brown eyes observing the shape of Raum’s back while he was tossing his jacket away. So, this was truly an interview process. He stiffened and remained standing in the middle of the room, barely daring to move or to even breathe. He continued to listen, as he was aware that each one of his words was going through a thorough analysis. He cleared his throat, his irises yet still appealed to the vision of Raum’s shape and his more than defined silhouette. He was truly a handsome boy. 

“Sir…” Gabriele started, his eyes for a moment lingering on Raum’s waist before he went back to his usual cold and overly serious self. “I have been bonded by your father to a contract that I intend to honor.” He knew that it wouldn’t be enough, he looked aside for a moment. “I guess he might have sealed that contract away from you so you wouldn’t do anything about it but I don’t mind speaking the truth.” Another pause, Gabriele observed the clothes waiting on the frame of the bed. “Your father saved my life. In his own way. I’m in debt to him, and this is something he has decided to bequeath to you.” 

“You might not know me yet, but I’m a loyal person.” He eventually continued, before he stepped forward and grabbed the tie Raum had chosen, to eventually switch it to another model; more sober, but with a lovely golden piping matching the suit. “So far, it’s true, I have no reason to show loyalty or to even be sympathetic to you… Yet, I have made a promise. Today, my choice is either breathing fresh air every day and keeping an eye on you, or simply breaking that contract for good and finishing my days in prison.” He moved backward to give Raum enough space. Gabriele was determined.

 “If you don’t believe in my loyalty, I understand. But you can trust my will of freedom instead. I know that is something you can understand as well.”  

Raum’s deceptive smile fell away as soon as they stepped into the foyer. A quick look around proved that little had changed in his absence; the same marble flooring, cream and dark wood interiors, display cabinets, candelabras, and the elaborate Persian rug laid out like a welcome mat. He kept walking, still aware of Vasco’s presence, at first behind him and then at his side.

The man was quick on the uptake at least, adaptable to Raum’s pace without awkwardness and his mind firmly on the schedule. It meant he was able to do the bare minimum Raum would expect of him — that is, if Raum found him palatable enough to keep around.

There was a large carpeted staircase in the center of the room, and he made his way toward it. He paused once they reached the top of the stairs. Regardless of how long it had been, he could still remember the location of his old rooms on the second floor of the east wing. Raum hummed when Gabriele spoke up, glancing briefly at his profile.

“Mm. Two hours is enough.” Blue eyes tracked the bodyguard’s hand when he reached into his pocket to produce the paper. “Cyrus gave it to you?” He asked, frowning while he took it from Gabriele’s hand.

“Does he…” A maid walked past and he trailed off, peering at her over Gabriele’s shoulder. Does he know I’m here already? Is what he wanted to know, although he didn’t dare to ask such a question, at least not yet — aware of how it would seem when there were other ears around.

He didn’t look at the contents of the paper yet, instead just put it away for when he would be ready.

“Do you need assistance with the… outfit?” Vasco asked, and Raum met his eyes briefly, sensing an opportunity.

“Yes,” he lied. “It’s been a while since I was here last. You can help me choose something appropriate.” Raum gestured with a quick tilt of his head in the direction of his rooms. “This way.”

He was quiet for the rest of the way, which was not far — only a quick trip down the corridor. Once they were inside, Raum twisted the handle to lock the door. They were alone, for now.

The room was large and bright without a speck of dust in sight, and the bed was made neatly. Clearly prepared for his arrival, yet starkly impersonal, the rest of the long unused furniture was still covered in white cotton tarp. They weren’t expecting him to stay for long.

Raum slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the bed. He walked to the large wardrobe and pulled open the doors, quickly shifting through the hangers. With his back facing Vasco, Raum spoke decisively.

“If this is going to work, I need to know your intentions, Vasco.” He pulled out a couple of hangers — a black three-piece suit — and measured it against himself in front of the mirror. “What is it that you want?”

Satisfied, Raum set aside the clothes and unwound his tie.

“To be clear — I realise you’re not here by choice. So I don’t expect you to honestly give a shit about me. But as long as you keep insisting on being my security… I do expect you to do your job. And what I say.” He glanced over his shoulder at the other man while he started to unbutton his shirt.

“I don’t presume your loyalty, either.” Raum scoffed, and shook his head. He peeled off his shirt and started on his belt. The dark tattoo across the back of his shoulders shifted when he moved.

“But… This could be mutually beneficial, if you are.”

[distopea]

He sighed. For a man of his age, it was quite ridiculous to think about her like this.

/ @royaletiquette

[distopea]

Gabriele -

I hate that I sometimes see your face when I close my eyes. You've become such a comfortable necessity in my home. The help you provide is different than everyone else's. I don't know how I feel so free of judgment when we talk, like you truly understand me. How much from a third party do you know of me? How terrible I am to go after your body so often as if your mind is nothing. But I feel like I'm someone else in your bed. I don't have to be me and it's so uniquely freeing to be anyone else for that time. Are you fucking me out of pitty. Do you imagine I'm someone specific? I always forget the difference in your hands having more calluses than his. Your body feels indescribable when I get to see it in full. There are some days I wish I could watch you shower. Lay in front of a fireplace and gawk at you like a painting. Run my fingers over the finer details. I want to make your body sweat. See your eyes desperate as you whisper my name in that soothing voice of yours.

[The disorganized note is left unsigned. Shoved between pages of a book - it was not meant to be delivered.]

@royaletiquette

“Che palle…” 

Where the heck was that document?! He had tried to figure out what Rhodri meant when he demanded Gabriele to quickly find a note he had left inside his office, disappearing inside another room before he could have asked any questions. He wasn’t sure about the location, but it was crucial for his next meeting. Gabriele had no idea of what he wanted exactly, and he felt his blood rushing through his veins. For fuck’s sake… He was a bodyguard, not a damn secretary! 

After a moment, and while he couldn’t find anything matching his research on Rhodri’s desk, Gabriele started to look around and in strange places. He looked around the fireplace, scanned every drawer, until he put his attention onto the large shelves of the library. If there was something hidden somewhere, it could be there after all… He patted the top of the books, then, out of frustration, he started to pick them out and searched directly inside. He skimmed through the pages as fast as he could until one piece of paper eventually fell from one of the publications. 

“About time…” Gabriele growled while he bent down to pick up a quite small piece of information, his brown eyes scanning the document the moment he straightened himself back up. It was poorly written, but he couldn’t recognize Rhodri’s handwriting either. Gabriele frowned when he eventually noticed that his name was plastered at the top of the note. “Che diavolo è quello?” He murmured in Italian, while he started to read. 

It was Hibiko's writing… 

What the fuck?

Gabriele understood that he had found a little secret of his mistress that he shouldn’t have in the first place. He completely forgot the fact that he was in a rush, and that her husband was probably running out of patience. He read it once, twice, amused by the energy he sensed through her harsh and rushed writing, her emotions leaking out of the document and the words she had used. She was probably pissed off when she had put all those thoughts down, taking an even bigger risk by hiding them inside her husband’s office instead of burning it. 

“What a fussy gato…” Gabriele chuckled, his thumb skimming a few words. Was he fucking her out of pity? His attention remained on the crossed line. At first, he thought it was the case, but in the end, he also liked who she was very much. It was a truth he couldn’t reveal, because it meant that he was putting her whole life in danger. He couldn’t let feelings bloom out of their forbidden passion and he perfectly knew that. Hibiko was just bored, and he was just weak. 

“Vasco!” He heard Rhodri stomping in the direction of his office. Gabriele quickly shoved the note back where he had found it and placed the book back onto its shelf, her secret forever protected. If he would talk to her about the danger of keeping that note around, well, he would have to figure it out later. He rushed back to Rhodri’s desk, pretending he was still scanning the drawers. “Nothing?” Rhodri asked impatiently while he opened the door. Gabriele shook his head. 

“No, nothing Sir.” He wasn’t bothered by his lack of success anymore; while he looked at Rhodri, he knew that tonight he would probably go fuck his wife behind his back. “Ah, forget it. We have to move downtown. Prepare the car, and wait for me outside.” Gabriele nodded, and walked out of the room, following Rhodri’s steps. 

He wondered if Hibiko would like to come from his tongue while fucking her in the shower. 

[distopea]

🎶 from a like here

"I need a distraction," Nezumi knelt by the stereo and began pawing at the various CDs lined up on a shelf next to it. His hands were shaking subtly. "I've read somewhere that keeping your mind occupied after experiencing trau—." His voice cracked and faded. He bowed his head, muttering under his breath: "I won't break. I won't break," in a voice so soft it was barely audible.

Finally, he chose a CD. Apocalyptica, 1998. He huffed a chuckle through his nose and shrugged. "And why not."

The CD went in, and Nezumi skipped a few songs forward, landing on the fourth. He licked his lips and wiped his hands into his pants as he stood up and turned to Gabriele.

"Humour me, will you?" Nezumi stepped forward and placed a palm on Gabriele's shoulder; the other hand went to slide into Gabriele's if he would let him. "I'll let you lead and all. Just one song." He stared into Gabriele's face, his eyes, the line of his lips, and searched for a sign of agreement; he hoped for it—for anything that could spin his head away from what they had been through.

@nezumivc103221

Dark eyes observed Nezumi’s back while he was shuffling through the various records displayed on the floor. There was probably nothing modern in this pile of disks, but perhaps enough to be pleasing to the ears. Gabriele didn’t say much; Nezumi said it all when he talked about finding distraction. He couldn’t blame him for finding a way out; he had been there so many times before that he didn’t know anymore if he was living in an everlasting distraction himself. It was hard to tell what was real from what had happened. Sometimes, moments of his past life were as blurry as the future ahead of him. 

“Suit yourself,” Gabriele invited, while he grabbed his cup of coffee and sniffed the beverage with hesitation. Even the color was uninviting; barely brownish on the edge and probably even more bitter now that it was cold. He sighed and abandoned the idea to finish it, looking back at Nezumi putting on the CD he had picked. He skipped a few songs, and eventually landed on one he found probably more suitable for the mood. 

He didn’t recognize the notes of Nothing Else Matters by Metallica, but he was driven by the softness of the cello and first notes echoing from the old radio station. He didn’t say much when Nezumi extended his fingers, his expression matching the intentions of the violins. An invitation to dance. Gabriele felt twenty years younger, all of a sudden. He swallowed his spite, his expression perhaps as frozen as his beverage, but still he took a step forward. “Humoring you? I think you don’t understand who’s going to be the one mocked here. I’m a very poor dancer.” 

But he wasn’t that much. It was simply a part of his existence that felt unexisting these days; hidden in the many lies and many distractions he had gone through. He grabbed Nezumi’s hand, just when the couplet started. “One song.” He said with his heavy accent and brought him against his chest, but still, stiffened as he didn’t allow him too close. It wasn’t a gesture against Nezumi, but simply a way to always leave a distance. He started to slowly dance, his dark eyes observing the faded colors and the stains against the walls. It was such a miserable place for a genuine dance, but still, Gabriele spun and didn’t move away. 

It was easy… Easy to get lost in the colored hills of Sicily that were forever printed in his retina instead of his awful place. It was easy to remember the scents of the Sunday market, and the burning sun against his face while he was strolling with his brothers of heart; the ones he would betray in a few years. He could picture the two old men arguing over the newspapers, some kids chasing a round and half flattened ball, trying to reproduce football moves they had seen on the TV screen last night. Did the AC Milan win again? Gabriele slid his fingers against Nezumi’s shoulder and placed it against the birth of his nape, his thumb mapping the curve of his spine.

He knew he liked to be held here…  

He closed his eyes for a second and forced himself to remember the miserable colors of the walls of their shelter, the smell of dust surrounding them and the bitterness of this cheap coffee. Because he knew exactly what was the journey of his brain right now, and he couldn’t live in memories either. He had made a choice, he had accepted the consequences. He couldn’t feel sorry for himself because he missed his homeland. He looked aside to observe Gino, just to be sure that he was alright and content, despite the poor motions of his body and his lack of closeness in the way he was leading the dance. 

Oh. 

Gino.

The sudden realization made him miss one step and he accidentally landed on Nezumi’s foot. “Fanculo!” Gabriele cursed, and he broke the contact with him, using this moment to refuse digging more into more dangerous distraction. He made sure to replace his tie properly, a deep sigh leaving his throat, his expression back to his usual composed and marble self.

“Alright.” He turned around, quite dismissing if Nezumi could ever feel bothered or hurt. He was acting out of line, and he should get a grip on himself. The policeman walked back to the table and grabbed his mug of coffee, throwing it all inside the sink. “I’ll make more coffee. This one is cold.” 

[distopea]

32, as a 'no'. Koko+Gabe

@royaletiquette

Kiss meme 💋

“I think that you have had enough,” Gabriele said gently, while he helped Hibiko stand on her two feet. She had felt a little bit under the weather for a few days, and with the party tonight, even two glasses of champagne were enough to turn her into a tipsy mess. Well, nothing too visible either, but it could lead to a potentially disastrous situation. And surely, he didn’t wish the Queen to ever ridicule herself when her eyes kept judging her behavior; he knew that she wouldn’t like it, and she was attached to her reputation and the image she was showing to others. It was all about etiquette. 

“Please.” Gabriele was firm when he grabbed her drink, but discreet enough so people wouldn’t notice the little game between these two. She was cute when she was in that state of childish happiness, perhaps slightly more smiling than usual. She had her charm, but he didn’t wish to indulge her so easily, even when she tried to grip her beverage back with that wicked stare of hers. “No. Hibiko, you’re going to be sick.” Even if perhaps it wasn’t the case, maybe she would have been if no one paid attention to her. Her husband didn’t seem to really care, occupied with his affairs and far from his wife.

Another petty fight to reclaim her drink, and despite his best efforts, the champagne he had been holding was splashed against her dress. He tutted and sighed, giving a glance at the audience. There were some whispers, but he couldn’t tell if it was about her. He preferred to lead her away, hidden behind a large velvet curtain, just in case things might get more awkward. “Seriously… I’m not trying to spoil your fun, but I care about your integrity.” And to that, of course, she had a thousand teasing things to say and a plea regarding the necessity to find another bottle before the end of the party. After all, he had ruined her dress in that fight. 

“I’m sorry, but I think I won’t take part in that quest.” He whispered to avoid bringing attention to them, the veil barely covering their bodies from curious eyes. She tapped his chest, still trying to order him around, but Gabriele was quick to grasp her hand, softly holding her fingers.

“No.” He said once more, and somehow mesmerized and touched by the deep softness and despair gleaming in the back of her eyes, he eventually brought her digits to his mouth and kissed them gently.