‣ 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙵𝙾𝚁, @ghostphascd ?
the wafts of carcinogen are the only company for the night as he filters through the stack of files inputted today. it’s not supposed to be his job, as a ruler of the sovereign. however, he figured he’d help shuri when she’s not present, ensuring that she’s not ambushed by an onslaught of tasks upon her return to the united states. he holds his cigarette between his index and thumb, pinching it as he inhales the scent of tobacco circulating in the room. certain that everyone is no longer in the building safe for the dora milaje that patrols the front doors for him, he slips into the rarity of this routine, making himself comfortable as the queries on scientific resources are poured into his thoughts.
shed the image of a king, now. he’s leather-bound, weary. shoulders slouched over the table, it’s not the way his father raised him to be — rather, this is a habit he picked up during his studies in this very continent. the plethora of reminiscences surges into him as even the smokes guide his mind back to when everything seemed all right. the royal path to the throne was ascertained, with a seamless transition. not like this. not like the bombing. not like the killing. but everything that needs to be done... has been done. he’s exhausted. mentally, physically. even the herb cannot prescribe pills for these disorders. even the herb cannot concoct catharsis for these maladies. he’s plagued, to say the least, and he’s trying his best to keep his spine from splintering. after all, it’s supposed to prop the weight of a whole nation and so much more.
and in the midst of his reverie, he realizes that he’s not alone. but he doesn’t respond immediately, knowing well that it’s not breaking and entering for there’s no footfalls to be heard prior. it’s a case dealt on the basis of precaution. whoever it is, they’re not here to kill him. not yet, at least. he smells it, the pheromone among the scent of the mint, hanging in the air. it betrays them even when he cannot see the figure. he’s seen enough oddities to question this one, so he doesn’t. instead, he slowly stands up, stubbing his cigarette against the ashtray. he turns slowly as to not startle them, and stares straight into the void. the airborne smell grows stronger now, invading his enhanced senses in certainties. he readies his suit in case it’s needed, but he holds it in for now. instead, he tells the empty air, ❛ reveal yourself. ❜
