Shane's been in these Ken doll-type uniforms before, but nothing like this. or maybe it's the intense spotlight, the way everyone's eyes search him out when he usually gets away with being the quiet, detached shadow of his parents, and the way he can feel the expectations mounting with every gaze that susses him.
the future king, or whatever. it's all formal bullshit that shouldn't even matter anymore, given they're just figureheads, but people love their traditions. decades ago, his father had defied expectations and married for love and in return, the country had watched and waited to see what the outcome would be.
it's safe to say most were disappointed.
instead of a charismatic leader, they got a soft-spoken prince who was deemed just kind enough, but boring. no scandals, no drama, but no personality either, other than smiling uncomfortably whenever he was pulled into conversations. he can't even pretend! the newspapers constantly bemoan, how will he be able to influence international relations?
his future wife, on the other hand, reads like his perfect counterpart. beautiful, whip-smart, intuitive, kind, loving, tough. her entourage creates a stir when they finally appear and Shane can immediately tell whyβthey're all sort of fucking beautiful, like if this was a movie, they'd be the pack of vampires no one can take their eyes off of.
Svetlana is even lovelier than the pictures of her splashed all over the media. her hand is delicate in his as Shane goes through the formality of kissing it as his greeting, but there's nothing delicate about her gaze; he flushes under her scrutiny and looks away before catching sight of her escortβRozanov, if he remembers correctly, who just might be the hottest guy he's ever seen.
that entire experience is more than enough to have him retreating at the first available opportunity, with Svetlana engaged in a conversation with his parents and everyone else distracted by the appearance of finger food and the sound of the orchestra striking up again to encourage dancing. Shane steps out onto the closest balcony, breathing deeply to calm his raging heartbeat and letting the crisp air wash over his hot skin. his fingers tug at the high neck collar. fuck this stupid suit. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
βfiftygoals
Shane's been in these Ken doll-type uniforms before, but nothing like this. or maybe it's the intense spotlight, the way everyone's eyes search him out when he usually gets away with being the quiet, detached shadow of his parents, and the way he can feel the expectations mounting with every gaze that susses him.
the future king, or whatever. it's all formal bullshit that shouldn't even matter anymore, given they're just figureheads, but people love their traditions. decades ago, his father had defied expectations and married for love and in return, the country had watched and waited to see what the outcome would be.
it's safe to say most were disappointed.
instead of a charismatic leader, they got a soft-spoken prince who was deemed just kind enough, but boring. no scandals, no drama, but no personality either, other than smiling uncomfortably whenever he was pulled into conversations. he can't even pretend! the newspapers constantly bemoan, how will he be able to influence international relations?
his future wife, on the other hand, reads like his perfect counterpart. beautiful, whip-smart, intuitive, kind, loving, tough. her entourage creates a stir when they finally appear and Shane can immediately tell whyβthey're all sort of fucking beautiful, like if this was a movie, they'd be the pack of vampires no one can take their eyes off of.
Svetlana is even lovelier than the pictures of her splashed all over the media. her hand is delicate in his as Shane goes through the formality of kissing it as his greeting, but there's nothing delicate about her gaze; he flushes under her scrutiny and looks away before catching sight of her escortβRozanov, if he remembers correctly, who just might be the hottest guy he's ever seen.
that entire experience is more than enough to have him retreating at the first available opportunity, with Svetlana engaged in a conversation with his parents and everyone else distracted by the appearance of finger food and the sound of the orchestra striking up again to encourage dancing. Shane steps out onto the closest balcony, breathing deeply to calm his raging heartbeat and letting the crisp air wash over his hot skin. his fingers tug at the high neck collar. fuck this stupid suit. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
sorry for the delay!! this month has been π€―
no worries! Never a rush.
thank you!!
(no subject)