animatedsmoke | (no subject)

The event feels like it's taking place in a world other than their own; every detail of the venue is lavished in brilliant, indulgent excess from the types of fibers used for the carpet to the engraved metal of the door handles. Each table and chair has been carefully arranged by calculating minds. Flowers, lighting, and other décor have also undergone the same arrangement to encourage an atmosphere of luxury and opulence.

In other words, the venue looks rich to make the rich feel richer.

So Ky's thoughts go, as he politely navigates the verbal minefield of the room. He gave the designer and host plenty of credit for the amount of consideration behind planning the event, but these types of gatherings are hardly ever a moment for relaxation or enjoyment. It's a time for politicians, lords, and diplomats to reestablish connections, reaffirm their positions, and reassure their political partners. It's the equivalent of holding multiple international meetings all at once: A concentrated liquid shot of neutral looks, smiles that never reach one's eyes, and so many firm-yet-not-too-firm handshakes.

Ky isn't fond of these types of things. He's the kind of person who even dodges attending the celebration of victory, despite his position, opting to ask the other two kings to attend in his place on an annual basis. Attending to the protection of his citizens was far more worth his time. But this one couldn't be avoided, no matter how many excuses he tried to reach for. The individuals of high society needed to see him, to be encouraged by his presence in some way or another.

Or to find more reasons to share rumors. That certainly feels like the case sometimes with the way he incited whispers and coy glances as he passed people.

A very large and very familiar figure catches the corner of his eye, but he doesn't call out or try to catch the man's attention. This is a formal affair, he reminds himself. Here, he is the High King of Illyria. And the man in the distance is Potemkin of Zepp. They represent two nations technically at odds with each other in both philosophy and technology. He can't show preference or favoritism here.

He's not in armor here, the situation instead calling for a dress uniform that draws from Zepp's best tailoring efforts, but Potemkin does not look one bit less hard and unscalable. He's the only representative from the country present, which speaks to how much trust was put on one man to serve it well, and explains what must be pushing Potemkin to shoulder his duties here with flawless pride and hefty diplomatic competence.

At least he has an excuse to look at Ky, because nobody else is going without at least a glance at the king when he walks through the room. Even though he tilts his head, his expression betrays nothing, no dislike or approval for the man in either direction. The guest he had been talking to might be different, but Potemkin seems unamused by Ky, which from Potemkin is intimidating in its own way.

The moment only lasts so long as it takes to peak though, before everyone at least pretends to go back entirely to what they were talking about. Invisibly the effect lasts longer on Potemkin, because he starts to make the maneuvers to politely drop out of the conversation.

Ky is aching to do the same after finding himself caught by a gentleman discussing his latest projects. 'Discussing' being a very polite way to put it; it's more like bragging and a hint of fishing for financial support. Ky is already thinking of ways to politely phrase his rejection even before the man finishes speaking. He generally isn't interested in projects unless it has something to do with bettering the kingdom. Ky is notoriously well-known for his stubbornness about that, though he doesn't bat an eye whenever he's passive-aggressively confronted about it. And he certainly has been confronted in the past, with others dismissing his attitude to his youth or inexperience.

Whether it's true or not, Ky doesn't care. He wants to do what he believes is important for reconstruction. He won't let others convince him otherwise.

As he struggles to get away from the insistent gentleman, a few other guests begin softly chatting to each other about previous attempts to win the king's support. Their whispers are low, but not completely discreet, as they wonder whether the gentleman will manage to accomplish his goals through sheer persistence. Their talk soon shifts to Ky, however, with mention of his 'youth' and 'political inexperience' popping up again as a theme. This time also brings the addition of a new phrase — his 'lack of appreciation' for the people of high society.

Potemkin gives a few more farewells and he's successful in detaching himself, leaving him free to mingle in the hall. There's so many people , it slightly obfuscates how inherently conspicuous he is. But Potemkin is more of the type to play it reserved than push it. He wouldn't think of marring his country or Ky's name with impulsive, short-sighted behavior like getting heated in Ky's defense, or questioning some of these guest's motivations to their faces, though nobody would accuse Potemkin of not having the bravery for it.

Potemkin can reach about the back of the crowd that's become witness to Ky being boxed in with a business proposal, and like this he's another set of ears. Potemkin is not so universally trusting of everyone here to not think there might be someone with a little more than mild doubts about the current leadership attending.

For all of the little whispers floating around, most of it was for shallow reasons. Just a hundred little petty comments that seemed desperate to find a flaw in a man who appeared too good to be true. A man who preached hope and justice without seeking something in return, who was the very image of purity in both appearance and behavior, who attracted the admiration of so many citizens looking forward to their future. No one could speak ill of his ability to lead the people.

So, instead, they spoke of him as a person.

Potemkin might as be a wall or a statue with the way this group acted completely oblivious to his presence. What started as questions into whether Ky had any 'fun' hobbies soon wandered into the topic of his possible love life.

'When I was his age,' stated an older gentleman not even an arm's length away from Potemkin, 'you couldn't keep me away from finding a girl to marry. Not even the war stopped me!'

'Do you think he's courting someone?'

'He has to be, he's a king. He has power. He could have hundreds of suitors.'

The woman speaking with him chuckled. Perhaps the old man had too much wine in him, but she encouraged his talk with her curious responses. 'That boy can't lie, you know. If he's in love with someone and we haven't heard of her, then he must be ashamed.'

And, just like that, her words caused the group to murmur all at once. Their imaginations soared with possibilities.

'Perhaps she's hideous.'

'Or she's taken. A face like that can steal anyone away from someone.'

'She could be a man. He already looks like a woman. Maybe he's spending nights with his guards! Rotating shifts, if you understand me.'

'Is that considered a job duty or a benefit?'

The group broke into laughter at their own silly joke. They held up their wine glasses and clinked them together in some drunken gesture of congratulations for their cleverness. More words were exchanged so casually and without a care in the world. They wanted to see a flaw in Ky, joked of it, giggled about seeing him with a sullied reputation. The thought amused them far too much to let go.

It's all meaningless data; Ky didn't need to hear or know of this at all.

Or so it goes written off by Potemkin. It's what he can tell himself, his lone path for solace, when he's in an environment where he can't admit to have felt anything. So he holds onto it so tightly, if it had been with his hands the skin between his finger would have gone pale and his knuckles would have locked.

Potemkin has gone quiet, so he starts to have some heads turn toward him, though they remain on the opposite end of the room past his notice. It's not nearly to the riotous level the King attracts, the giant man is more of a curiosity and partly a pity.

'Did you see, Mr. Zepp had to come all on his own.'
'It must be lonely, to come from one of those barely there nations. You know that this is all they have.'
'Not necessarily, in fact I've got a tip from a drunken warhawk that he's been seeing someone.'

The group reaches a communal lack of a surprise that the lonely, quiet, talked-about soldier would be a shy one.

'I hope the poor man learns a thing or two about life before he gets wringed dry. He seems like the very picture of a target.'

While Ky is too far away to hear any words, he does find it peculiar that some pitiful glances have been cast towards Potemkin. The king refrains from giving in to the urge to look in Potemkin's direction, however. No one can associate the both of them together — even the smallest show of favor can be taken advantage of. And Ky knows neither Potemkin nor the nation of Zepp needs that sort of weakness.

After a moment or two more of this needless back and forth, Ky finally and abruptly excuses himself from the conversation. He can practically feel the eyes on him as he steps away, knowing glances that had expected this to happen. These people are no stranger to the sight of it, after all. He vaguely wonders if he lasted longer than expected this time around... then dismisses the thought. What they think doesn't matter to him. All of the important speeches and declarations have been made, the important people have been spoken with, and he's reached the limit of his patience. It's as good a time to take his leave as any and leave these people to the rest of it.

At least he tries to leave gracefully, calmly giving others a parting nod or word before stepping out of the room. He fully expects words and whispers to follow him — 'when the cat's away...' however that saying goes — which only justifies how quickly he puts distance between him and the enormous dining area where the event is being held.

He needs a moment of peace.

For the same reason Potemkin can't acknowledge Ky with his emotions, he can't stare at him to keep him under watch at all times, so the next thing he knows he looks up and Ky is no longer there.

Since he's stayed where he was, Potemkin can hear the same crowd talk again, about the youngest to be crowned King's ungratefulness, his mockable will and unavoidable inclination toward disrespect, like a dog that can't hold its messes within its bladder. Potemkin would rather them all fade into background noise, but he is stuck, because it would be blindingly obvious if he moved fast for anything, let alone gave chase. So as he looks at the spot where Ky used to be bilious words creep in around him.

If he can't walk toward Ky, at least he can walk anywhere else. Potemkin hugs the walls of the dinning room, until he hits one of several doors that lead to the balcony outside. Even though it is the opposite direction Ky went in, it's possible that he can go around the room and find out where Ky left to.

Going out onto the balcony doesn't reveal Ky, but it does extend and open up further along the exterior of the building. It's a grand balcony that offers a sweeping view of the property beneath the guests, manicured precisely with that fact in mind. It connects multiple rooms together — one could easily walk outside from the dining area and re-enter the building through another door that leads into a large study. A convenient path during events like this one, where the hallway is also rather crowded.

But Potemkin will not find Ky in either of these rooms.

Thankfully, with the way the building curves in a slightly horseshoe-like shape, a glimpse of Ky can be caught through the windows as he passes by the long curtains. They sway as he briskly walks by, heading down the long hall and into a more isolated area where another study is located. A private one, Ky recalls, that isn't accessible by the balcony and is far away enough from the guest area where he can organize his thoughts.

He's been invited to this venue enough times to know where he can sneak away from everyone else. The only positive to regularly receiving these sorts of invitations, perhaps.

As spacious as the platform is, it goes completely unused when the main event is still roaring inside. Potemkin is hit with the night air as soon as he steps outside, the sun having set sometime during the event, leaving Potemkin with just the stars as he can see no lights anywhere on the balcony.

Potemkin makes a slow lap around the balcony, passing by the party, and the empty rooms, until he sees a brief glimpse of white clothing that stands out for being the only other moving object in these abandoned parts of the building.

"Ky?"

Potemkin's hand reflexively goes to a window that's near him, but it hits him before he pulls it up that there's no way he can fit through it. He'll have to wait for an opening that's wider than his shoulders. For a second Potemkin regrets that he respects the hosts too much to make a bigger opening, before without hesitation he jumps over the railing. No tree could stand in his way, and Potemkin partly hopes that there's one to cover the noise.

Ky doesn't hear a thing, he's so focused on leaving the event. He reaches the isolated study without interruption, opening the heavy doors before him with determination and gently pulling them shut once he's inside. He sighs once they're closed, allowing himself a moment to relax his shoulders before stepping away.

What an honor it is to be invited here.

Turning to glance inside the room, his eyes quickly spot a luxurious chair beside the desk. He seats himself heavily, leaning his head back and sighing again. The room is quiet. It feels like he can manage his own thoughts and feelings again. Thank Heaven.

There wasn't a tree below, but there was a hedge. A hedge that gets flattened to a centimeter tall when Potemkin passes through it. Potemkin stands up completely unharmed, but he makes a mental note to add compensation to the groundskeeper in his bill for the trip.

It doesn't take long to make it to the other side of the building. As for making it back up to the right level, Potemkin climbs up the side of the building with surprising swiftness, a column like a fireman's pole in his hands. From the viewpoint of attached to the wall it's easy to take a look inside at what the rooms held, and Potemkin is relieved at the sighting of Ky with - graciously - a double pane window. With some more clambering he's there, Potemkin lightly taps the glass to get Ky to deal with the lock, an understated signal compared to how conspicuous him hanging outside the window must be.

Edited (be/me) 2017-10-26 06:00 (UTC)

Ky abruptly straightens in his seat. A tap on the window is the last thing he expected right now. A knock on the door, sure, but the window? Who could possibly—?

Standing, his answer becomes instantly clear. Ky's body moves before his mind even registers the man on the other side of the glass. He hastily reaches for the lock, nimble fingers unlatching it, and pushes the panes open. He can't believe who he's seeing right now. He doesn't even wait for his visitor to enter completely before he's speaking.

"Potemkin?"

"Your Highness!"

Potemkin gives a grave address fitting for a government agent even as he eagerly fits his body through the window, arms first. His upper half makes it to the room alone, and the reach of his arms shows again how truly large he is, his sprawling on the ground taking up good area of the floor before the window. Potemkin finishes getting inside with a series of little hops that take his legs up and then off the windowsill, though the flourishes are mostly for show when there's very little chance of falling off with the heaviest part of his body already inside and over the ledge.

Potemkin doesn't skip a beat standing up, like none of what was in front of Ky just happened. Though the physical proof remains, because Potemkin hasn't noticed the leaves on his suit. "I couldn't help but notice that you went missing."

Edited (removing verb) 2017-10-26 06:56 (UTC)

Ky takes a couple surprised steps back, giving Potemkin room to... fit himself inside. It's a process Ky has never seen before, though that's little excuse for just watching Potemkin instead of helping him. Then again, who knew if he could? Potemkin seemed to have his own way of accomplishing his goal.

"I..." Ky's still a little stunned, trying to recover from the quick turnaround in mood. "I just needed a moment to myself."

A beat. And then he reaches out to gently brush the leaves off Potemkin's suit.

"Hmmfph, there was nothing of value being shared in there anyway," Potemkin mutters. He's being honest, but he also has no interest in repeating any of what he heard to Ky.

Potemkin's eyes goes to Ky's hand and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity, an expression that immediately collapses into understanding when a leaf falls off.

"Thank you."

Remembering the guests he left behind dampens his mood again. Ky's expression falls somewhat as he continues tidying Potemkin's clothes.

"You're welcome," he says somberly. "I'm sorry if you heard anything disgraceful. Those people can be very... crude with their words sometimes."

And it wouldn't be the first time they said such things.

Potemkin's first reaction is to deny that it was that, but Ky already called everything out so Potemkin becomes quiet, being shut up before he started. It seems silly now to think that Ky would have been ignorant of anything that goes on here.

What a truly gracious man Ky is, to apologize for the actions of other guests. A part of Potemkin wants to admonish the excessive sense of responsibility, just like old times, but he knows that this is part of what marks him as a gifted leader.

Still quiet, Potemkin moves his body to help out Ky's hands. He twists, giving Ky access to a new stretch of cloth. But when Ky would have reached for it, Potemkin rests a hand over one of his forearms.

"Ky..."

A denial still wouldn't convince Ky, as he's certain Potemkin wouldn't have mentioned it unless something had been said. And he was far too used to how these sort of gatherings went. The words themselves didn't hurt him as much as knowing someone he cared about had to endure listening to such scandalous drivel. That sort of gossip only served to drag down others. He didn't want anyone else affected by it.

When Potemkin gently halts his arm, Ky looks up with wide eyes. His apologetic expression still remains, though it's slowly giving way to concern.

"Yes...?"

Potemkin doesn't look hurt, instead his expression is serious and determined. He couldn't stand up for Ky back there, he couldn't support or acknowledge him. But now? When it was just the two of them in this room the air between them instantly changed, Ky could walk up to him, he could call the King by his name. Given the chance, Potemkin seizes making up what he gave up on.

Potemkin's hand doesn't close all the way around Ky's arm, staying there only for his presence. He brings his other arm around Ky's back, and it sways like the branch of a tree to hook around him.

"Nothing that comes from a person of that character could affect me. But I was worried for you."

Ky doesn't resist Potemkin's touch, feeling the man's arm wrap around him like a protective cover. Something about that makes him feel like there's a sturdy wall between him and the partygoers, even more so than the actual distance and walls between them. Before he knows it, he's leaning into the warm body in front of him, leftover leaves notwithstanding.

"You needn't worry about me," Ky says softly into Potemkin's torso. His shoulders relax in the larger man's hold. "I've likely heard what they've had to say before. Their words mean nothing to me."

And yet, Ky can't deny he's still affected. "It's simply... disappointing to hear. Of all the issues they choose to focus on— if they put that much effort into reconstruction efforts, their provinces would be far better for everyone..."

Potemkin looks down at the man in the crook he's made with his arm, attentive and wholly focused on caring for Ky. He let's Ky lean into what he can reach of his chest, the thick column of his arm falling on his back, to move along with Ky as Ky moves closer.

"You are tired," Potemkin says like it's no judgement on the man's strength. Ky is one of the strongest men he knows, so in his eyes that's all the proof that anyone could possibly demand that anyone would be exhausted from what he said.

The stressful pressure that had built up in Ky's temples suddenly freezes in place the moment Potemkin points out the problem. His brows furrow as he goes quiet, struggling with accepting that fact and stubbornly denying it. He doesn't want to be tired, that would mean their words and behavior and this ridiculous, pompous, unnecessary event has drained him. As a knight who once faced the fiercest of Gears, could this really be what lays bare his weaknesses? As a leader with hundreds of thousands of lives depending on him, isn't that too shamefully weak?

Ky sighs heavily as he rests his head against firm muscle, grateful there's at least someone else who is stronger during this moment of exhaustion.

He has no words, no excuses for himself. How convenient it would be to blame this on aging, though. To blame it on losing that spark that once made him feel like he could take on all the evils of the world at once. To cut through the darkest shadow within a night and unveil the light by morning. He doesn't usually feel like he's 'getting old,' but moments like this — when he compares himself to the man he was just ten years ago — usually do the trick. And, despite his thoughts, it never really helps his mood.

It's fortunate that Potemkin has a shirt on today instead of armor. Potemkin feels Ky's head softly pressing into his chest through the cloth, and his deep sigh resonates with him for all the sadness it carries. Potemkin looks over the rest of the study, his sight landing on the chair Ky was using at the beginning.

"Would you like for us to have a seat?" Potemkin asks, in plural for 'we, together' . He's not going to stop hugging him to walk across the room. He prepares for moving by lowering his arm, enough to pick up Ky's legs if need be.

Potemkin's voice prompts Ky to look up from where he's leaning. "Yes...?" He wouldn't mind a seat, but there was only one lounge chair in this room. He could sit on the desk chair instead, so Potemkin could—

His thoughts (overthinking, really) abruptly halt as he feels the both of them moving. Ky is stunned once again as Potemkin practically lifts him as they walk. He reflexively takes hold of the larger man's suit to keep himself steady. He's utterly bewildered. It isn't exactly a common occurrence for someone to boldly move the king like this.

Potemkin doesn't have to look down at he man in his arms while carrying him, though his muscles do work to keep his arms very, very steady. All Potemkin had to do was catch the underside of Ky's legs, and lift up, and they were on their way. Without looking Potemkin still feels a tug on the front of his suit, and because it's coming from Ky's hands the pulling of his suit sticks out clearer and more vibrantly than any of the weight he's lifting.

Potemkin is the one who puts his butt in the seat. He stretches, adjusting to holding Ky while he lowered himself to sit. Ky is constantly kept against his chest, though now he has Potemkin's whole body under him and he's for the first time eye level with Potemkin's head.

Sometimes, despite himself, Ky forgets Potemkin is a man more than twice his size. He should know better than to forget, of course, especially after having experienced the literal impact of underestimating Potemkin's ability to reach out and pluck him out of the air with ease. But he does, because his focus is usually centered on the man's heart and loyalty, and it's always a surprise when he receives a reminder of their physical differences like this.

He's rested on top of Potemkin, like a princess in the hands of a giant knight, and Ky looks down to gaze at that broadly chiseled face and pale eyes. Just a moment ago, they were like strangers. And now...

Ky relaxes. Now, they are like lovers. His expression softens as a hand raises up to gently trace Potemkin's cheekbone.

"You shouldn't reward me for behaving like this," he lightly chastises.

"You've suffered enough," Potemkin grunts. It almost would have come off as dismissive, if it wasn't how he simultaneously closed his eyes when Ky's fingers brush his face. Potemkin holds his head proudly and his face is steady as Ky traces it, but with Ky's hand on his face he can feel the fluttering of his breath.

"There's discipline, and then there's cruelty." With that said, Potemkin is thoroughly into distracting Ky from the event that they both left behind. Potemkin raises his other hand, the one that is not holding Ky to him, and cautiously stretches it toward Ky, like handling something very precious. The tools they have to work with may be unequal, but Potemkin manages to return the gesture and his hand cups the side of Ky's head.

Whatever those people said must've been terrible to hear, Ky thinks as he leans into Potemkin's touch like an affectionate feline. The large hand can practically cover his shoulders as well, and it's incredibly comforting to physically feel that strong support rather than trust his already worn out spirit to accept it. Potemkin's hand is invitingly warm, too, and amusingly slightly dusted from the man's adventurous efforts to reach the room.

"Don't pay any mind to what they said," Ky advises. "Their words will only drive you mad, and your madness will only encourage them."

Ky gives Potemkin a warm and gentle little smile. "We know the truth about each other... that is all I care about."

A smile grows on Potemkin's face too, from hearing him, from seeing his smile, from being able to feel Ky underneath his hand. The care Ky shows him washes away whatever lingering anxiety Potemkin was holding on to, that he would have barred from sight from Ky because it is Potemkin who is the one doing the same for Ky. Potemkin feels the weight of Ky's body gently push into his palm for better pets, and in return Potemkin shows more affections. He smooths his fingers against Ky's mantle, and threads through what he can reach of Ky's hair.

"That's all that matters to me too. I know who you really are," Potemkin says, softly but with a deep confidence.

Edited (adverb ending) 2017-11-05 08:00 (UTC)

Ky has to resist leaning down to let Potemkin play with more of his hair. It's funny how apprehensive he initially was about his hair growing out so much yet somehow ended up enjoying the feeling of someone threading their fingers through the length of it. It's become something of a silly indulgence of his, and this really isn't the place for him to lean over so far that he falls from Potemkin's lap like some kind of clumsy feline.

His dear partner sounds so confident, though, that Ky can't help his amusement. He adjusts his position, leaning forward on Potemkin's chest.

"I have no doubt that you do," he says. And then, with a playful smile on his lips, he asks, "Then... who am I?"

Potemkin blinks, inevitably surprised from this new boldness when until now Ky had seemingly been fine just sitting, relaxed to the point that Potemkin could literally carry him around. As Ky gently pushes closer Potemkin has to look down sharply past his chin to keep eye contact.

Ky's smile, with its bright emotion and subtle curve, could enthrall him alone... but he must be focused. After all, it's his arm that Ky is resting against.

"Well, you are exactly the man you appear to be," Potemkin resumes. No matter what angle he has to speak at, or how close Ky's face looks, Potemkin keeps the conviction in his voice independent of how entertained Ky appears to be. "You are a man who cares and loves the world, that proves honestly what you will do to protect it."

Ky goes quiet for a moment, letting the words settle in the very short space between them. He wasn't fishing for flattery, but Potemkin's sincerity makes a warm weight settle in his chest nonetheless. Wordlessly, he leans his head down to rest against the larger man again, resisting the urge to kiss him right here and now. No matter how comfortable they are, and away from prying eyes, this is still a public venue. He knows they shouldn't.

Instead, Ky sighs as he finds comfort in the sound of Potemkin's heartbeat.

"...your heart is truly as large as it seems," he says fondly. "Zepp is fortunate to have a devoted man such as you."

Potemkin sighed when Ky looked away to dig his head into his chest. With that tension Potemkin could have been tempted to action too, or driven crazy by the lack of any. Ky centers into a kind of ball of warmth against his chest, and holding what is to Potemkin Ky's light body becomes a luxrious experience in itself.

Potemkin continues affectionately touching Ky's head, hitting the back of it now that his face is away from the outside. Potemkin's hand goes all the way from top to bottom with each stroke, shading Ky's entire resting head at the beginning.

"It's fortunate that I do have such a mighty heart. But it will always belong to you."

Edited (I didn't actually finish my sentence...) 2017-11-13 08:27 (UTC)

Ky pauses again. This time, rather than settling, the words linger in the air like dust that had been stirred up. His eyelids flutter as Potemkin strokes his head. He feels like he's being comforted, and it's making him feel incredibly relaxed. Not completely, however, as Potemkin's words are still buzzing in his ear. Coming from anyone else, those would be powerful, romantic words. But from Potemkin... Ky doesn't intend on 'owning' anything of the man, given the Zeppian's history.

But is he overthinking it? He isn't sure.

It takes a little bit, but Ky finally finds words that express his own feelings without revealing a possible misunderstanding about Potemkin's.

"And you, mine," he responds. It's a simple answer, but hopefully Potemkin understands. If Ky possesses Potemkin's heart, then Potemkin also owns Ky's. An equal exchange.

Potemkin expected nothing, because it was enough to love, and be allowed to love (maybe not by the general public, but by Ky himself and that is what is most important). And he thought Ky would continue relaxing, or possibly even fall asleep. Ky swearing to him in return surprises him, and his hand briefly pauses on Ky's head, before it goes back to petting him.

"Ky..." Potemkin sighs, not loudly enough to disturb the man carried against his chest but heavy with his affection still.

Ky can feel the hand pause on his head, but doesn't respond to it. He closes his eyes and allows the peaceful moment between them say it all. Still very aware of the building they're in, he doesn't quite fall into a deep sleep. But a light doze is enough to keep him quiet as they both relax together.

He treasures this man, he thinks as he drifts off. He cherishes everything that makes up the man named Potemkin.

Potemkin feels Ky drift away in his arms, gradually like the edging of night into daylight. Eventually he stops moving too, and instead is content to cradle the sleeping Ky. Potemkin keeps track of exactly how long this nap is, because when the event draws to a close and the King becomes called for Potemkin will wake him from his rest, and Potemkin will have to jump right out that window. Then they'll be able to meet on the other side of the building, as random guests.

But for now, they can continue staying together. Potemkin is glad for that, and that in this brief meeting within a meeting he succeeded in bringing Ky some peace.

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attempting to sleep early didn't work...... :c

Aw dang :(

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