It's late. He knows that. But Xanxus keeps odd hours. Because of his work, the job he does, his sleep schedule is all sorts of fucked. There are reasons he takes little catnaps throughout the day. It's because assassins usually operate at night. This is when he's supposed to be working. So it's out of habit that he's working now, with his lover so close by.
Even more knowing that he's been recently injured enough that he had needed Lussuria to heal him. He should be in bed, resting with Tsuna. Instead, he sits at his desk and goes through more paperwork that's piled up between missions plus the new issues in the States. He hasn't had time to even cut his hair from the little side-effect that happens from too much Sun Peacock.
The desk is an old familiar thing really. Just as the chair he is sitting on. Just as the view out the window is.
As a child he had always been obsessed with the man in the second portrait on the wall of the Iron Fortress. The one everyone whispered about in fear. Dead for centuries and a name that still put the fear of god into people. The same man whose power he possessed. A man whom there had been a time he had wanted to be just like. He had idolized the Second as a little boy. It's why he has so many of his things now.
It's Ricardo's desk he sits at. It's Ricardo's chair. It's Ricardo's castle. Even the Varia had been Ricardo's. His idea. His creation. The first Varia Ring had been his and the stones within the Upgraded ones had been shards of the Rainbow left behind by Ricardo as well. And it's Ricardo's bed that Tsuna sleeps in.
Xanxus shifts through important paperwork until he can't stand the shifting and the mumbling any more. Then he stands to go over. Lightly, he puts a hand upon Tsuna's head to smooth his hair before heading towards a window, hoping the fresh air might do him well. It leaves him standing behind his desk, silhouetted in the moonlight.
no subject
Even more knowing that he's been recently injured enough that he had needed Lussuria to heal him. He should be in bed, resting with Tsuna. Instead, he sits at his desk and goes through more paperwork that's piled up between missions plus the new issues in the States. He hasn't had time to even cut his hair from the little side-effect that happens from too much Sun Peacock.
The desk is an old familiar thing really. Just as the chair he is sitting on. Just as the view out the window is.
As a child he had always been obsessed with the man in the second portrait on the wall of the Iron Fortress. The one everyone whispered about in fear. Dead for centuries and a name that still put the fear of god into people. The same man whose power he possessed. A man whom there had been a time he had wanted to be just like. He had idolized the Second as a little boy. It's why he has so many of his things now.
It's Ricardo's desk he sits at. It's Ricardo's chair. It's Ricardo's castle. Even the Varia had been Ricardo's. His idea. His creation. The first Varia Ring had been his and the stones within the Upgraded ones had been shards of the Rainbow left behind by Ricardo as well. And it's Ricardo's bed that Tsuna sleeps in.
Xanxus shifts through important paperwork until he can't stand the shifting and the mumbling any more. Then he stands to go over. Lightly, he puts a hand upon Tsuna's head to smooth his hair before heading towards a window, hoping the fresh air might do him well. It leaves him standing behind his desk, silhouetted in the moonlight.