#;crownedequals

[turquoise-azalea]

[continued from here.]

“Yes, Mylord.”

Oh no, a simple order won’t get him out of this one. He knows that Sora likes to not call people by their name, because it keeps them a little more distant - or at least this is what he guesses - but now he said it. Garry. Sputtering the letters out like they’re some kind of bad tea stuck in his throat, but still saying them. He doesn’t even bother with hiding his smug smile or the mocking tone in his voice, not at all. Just makes his way out of the room and going downstairs to get the bread his master demanded, coming back again in less than ten minutes. Placing the small silver tray on the table beside the wheelchair, he blinks at Sora. “Here’s your bread~.”

[turquoise-azalea]

⚬ zenithics.

“Sora ... it’s too early to go horse riding ...”

He’s still half-asleep - his master woke him up an hour before he actually had to. And since winter is near, and he already has to get up early without this little spoiled prince spontaneously wanting to go ride his stupid horse, it’s dark. You can see some of the last stars; the sun is ready to rise, giving them enough light to ride without being in danger.

Still. It’s too early. He’s not a morning person in general and this is just not his thing at all. Yawning once and then looking at the boy in the wheelchair beside him grumpily, he sighs. “Give me one proper reason why I shouldn’t just get my last hour of sleep.”