Crowley was a sensualist. True, that wasn't news to anyone that knew him, but it bore repetition.
He liked food, good wine and slept a lot.
So it shouldn't have been a surprise he liked other nice things, too.
Midorima frowned, troubled. Another hour till their match, and he could not seem to calm down and concentrate. He had woken up flushed this morning, fragments of hazy dreams not quite fading in his mind. He had tried to shake them off, but it had just got
"You turned my ass into Nemo?!" Now that was the straw that broke the guppy's back! The water was too shallow to push himself completely upright, so he settled for glaring up at Uriah.
"So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Kagami asked, shifting the ball to sit comfortably between hip and the crook of his arm. He leaned back on the mesh fence of the empty field as he studied his friend.
Yarka turned away from the rehearsal stage, murmuring irritably through his lines; he had better things to do than watching Andêl, the ass, practice with Jurinka.
Maybe, if he had actually remembered why the hell he had banned hair dye from his bathroom, Esteban would not have let his crazy boyfriend talk him into helping.
The camp was bustling with activity. About twenty big tents -- set up in the valley between two jagged outcrops of stone, with a wellspring on the eastern side whose water trailed further east and south between the rocks in a small rivulet.
"Ich schlafe einfach nicht gut in meinen eigenen Gemächern." meinte Ryuuki schließlich leise und hielt Seirans Hand fest, als dieser sie zurückziehen wollte. "Bleib?" bat er.
Beries war der treue Diener seines Herrn. Er beschützte ihn, würde sogar für Sararegi sterben. Wenn sein König es von ihm wünschte, so ertrug er alles. Doch solch eine Situation hätte wohl auch den beherrschtesten Krieger aus der Fassung gebracht.
