( perhaps it's a regional thing, that polite condescension, the sort of thing that comes from whatever unknown part of eos he hails from and finds him impeccably british. there is no getting around that, and you damned well know it. he has been known, at times, to dial it back to a reasonable amount, but there is never any shortage when it comes to his prince, if only because he's well aware that it will be dealt back to him in spades.
the sound of the younger's entrance into the kitchen doesn't pass beyond his notice, not only because he has been attuned to every shift of movement for years, but more because there is a very distinct shuffle the prince gives this early in the morning ( what counts for early in noct's book, of course, still being closer to midday than it should, even when ignis rouses him at the very same time, every damned morning, and has since he was the tender age of too-young-to-be-someone-else's-retainer ), and while the advisor's attention is mostly on the mixing of the batter in front of him, the resting of that damned pointy chin against the curve of his shoulder has him turning his head. lightly. just enough that their temples bump one another.
ah, but he is incredibly soft, sometimes, when it comes to a certain brat prince, isn't he? honestly.) Welcome to the world of the living. ( there's a grin, but noct may not be able to see it from his current vantage point. )
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and finds him impeccably british. there is no getting around that, and you damned well know it.he has been known, at times, to dial it back to a reasonable amount, but there is never any shortage when it comes to his prince, if only because he's well aware that it will be dealt back to him in spades.the sound of the younger's entrance into the kitchen doesn't pass beyond his notice, not only because he has been attuned to every shift of movement for years, but more because there is a very distinct shuffle the prince gives this early in the morning ( what counts for early in noct's book, of course, still being closer to midday than it should, even when ignis rouses him at the very same time, every damned morning, and has since he was the tender age of too-young-to-be-someone-else's-retainer ), and while the advisor's attention is mostly on the mixing of the batter in front of him, the resting of that damned pointy chin against the curve of his shoulder has him turning his head. lightly. just enough that their temples bump one another.
ah, but he is incredibly soft, sometimes, when it comes to a certain brat prince, isn't he? honestly. ) Welcome to the world of the living. ( there's a grin, but noct may not be able to see it from his current vantage point. )