Just another calm night in the Empire-
Nope, it would be quite the eventful night.
He curled his lips into a smile, the same one he’d seen a thousand times, and flashed ten thousands. His eyes didn’t smile today, though.. it was just a little hard to get it to look convincing. So he pulled his sunken cheeks and perverted his otherwise natural smile into an extremely silly, goofy looking one. When the face does not comply, make it.
“Good morning, boyo.” The reflection in the mirror said, sounding quite drugged.. probably due to the shape his mouth had been contorted into by his fingers. Despite his young age, he looked quite old here - tired eyes, messy dark brown hair.. the whole package screamed “I’m going through a major crisis and probably throw four pills into my mouth followed by alcohol every night”
“Growing it out again?” A soft voice asked him - yet it sounded drained, the usually smooth-sounding instrument seemed just a bit out of tune today, and it only served to remind him that today was ‘the day’. “You know, I thought as a man you’d try looking all charming on your last day out there.” came the follow-up.
The strings on that particular instrument sounded quite tired, but were clearly tough enough to pull his mood out of the waters no matter how much it wished to stay submerged within; though her voice did waver a little. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me that.” He replied to the raven-haired lady with the gilded eyes, his own now bearing an amused glint, “Now get out, woman. I need to look good for my execution, right?”
--
Thirty minutes later the metallic door opened with a ‘ffssshhhhhhhhhh’ - it sounded like an air brake from the 21st century, spilling cold air on the one standing in the doorway mercilessly. He shivered walking through it just like he had for the past thirty years; it was an experience unique to life in these times, just one of those small things one grows up with and attaches a particular feeling to - like the smell of rain - and the smell of coffee, too. That one remained unchanged even now, as those lucky enough to still be alive from then would attest to. It was coffee now drew his attention to that awfully post-modernistic white table on which it sat alone waiting for him to spill its contents into his mouth.. how erotic!
Even more so when it was a lady that made it for you.
These thoughts filled his mind, bouncing around like little twits even as his feet carried him to the door with a gait that seemed somewhat reluctant. The the woman standing behind him sauntered into his mind, right after the smell of her perfume did - so he followed his instincts and turned around, let his dark eyes meet hers, and spent the next few endless moments taking what he saw in. Things become so much more real when they are about to leave - is that just how the mind works? Whether it’s trying to catch that cat that just fell out of the window or feeling the tendrils of the mind clutching onto a door that you’re trying to walk out of, it is always like this - everything wants us to stay, even the irritated face of the woman being stared at does not make us budge. Usually that would warrant ducking for cover, mind you, when the woman in case is a war hero.
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He’d lived with her for a few years now - yet she never looked quite as good as today. Wearing wearing her official uniform, too; donning a black robe adorned with golden lines spiraling towards the neck upon which where hung a crystalline medal. Black hair and golden eyes, black robe and silvery medal, and the stern look she always carried - those were her trademarks. That was why it was so much more meaningful, so much more poignant, to see the look in her eyes. In the end, it was both a gift and a curse that he could read people somewhat well. The way her eyebrows arched and eyes glimmered signalling the onset of tears was enough to make him move purely on instinct, scooping her up in his arms without much care for the probability of him being shot.
He was going to die today, and it is better to die after claiming someones lips after such a long time of denying yourself them; better still to not face any resistance when doing so, and even more so to have it reciprocated. Thus they stood there for a while until his grip on her eased up, hands sliding reluctantly off her back. Taking a few steps backwads, he did not break eye contact, not for a while longer.. until he finally raised his hand to his chest and bowed as was the custom.
“You’re irresponsible, but do you really want to try and procrastinate away your own death?” She said, quickly regaining that usual icy look in her eyes, with only the wet trails on her cheeks remaining as a reminder of what had transpired moments ago.
“Sorry, nanny. I promise to be a good boy, I’ll tell Uncle Deathy to come get you next!” He said, taking on the tone and demeanor of a little boy. He didn't do so well this time, he thought. It was tougher to pull off the voice of a kid after pulling off something no one else ever had, perhaps?
“I’ll come and get you soon enough, ya little bastard!” Her voice acting skills did not lose out to his, nailing the delivery of that ‘angry nanny’ voice. Certainly, she was better today.
They chuckled, and only silence was left hanging in the air for the next few moments. The 'ding'of the elevator at the end of the small hallway was heard, revealing two men dressed in black robes much the same as her, whose next action was to raise their hands and beckon towards him, stony faces showing neither contempt nor respect, only their status as dogs loyal to Damian the Emperor.
It was time to go. Turning on his heels, he strode to the elevator. A relaxed smile was on his face within the next second, and the air of calm he was well known for displayed itself at its finest as he stood there between the two royal dogs, whilst the elevator doors closed.
Ding.