the baffled king composing hallelujah
"Don't say anything. Not a single word more. Just... close the door as quietly as you can and for fuck's sake don't trip over anything when you go to sit down." Ronin's words are hushed, like he's a soldier delivering orders to the rest of his troop, and as he emerges into the lounge it will become very clear exactly why.
The Star has never looked better, honestly, and that's even with minor dark circles ringing his eyes and a wrinkled shirt. He's left the rest of the house to nap (and oh, that's a cursed word lately, he's sure of it), so Sunjata catches him in a rare moment alone. Except not actually alone, because bundled against his shoulder and snoring quite obnoxiously into his neck is a curly haired infant.
Ronin doesn't remember who actually knows about their new addition to the family, and he feels like Sunjata should know, but hells, it might have slipped his mind to say something to him in person. Still, the huntsman grins across to his best friend as he creeps further into view, headed for the couch on light feet, and eventually sinking down onto it. "Success," he hisses.
The Star has never looked better, honestly, and that's even with minor dark circles ringing his eyes and a wrinkled shirt. He's left the rest of the house to nap (and oh, that's a cursed word lately, he's sure of it), so Sunjata catches him in a rare moment alone. Except not actually alone, because bundled against his shoulder and snoring quite obnoxiously into his neck is a curly haired infant.
Ronin doesn't remember who actually knows about their new addition to the family, and he feels like Sunjata should know, but hells, it might have slipped his mind to say something to him in person. Still, the huntsman grins across to his best friend as he creeps further into view, headed for the couch on light feet, and eventually sinking down onto it. "Success," he hisses.
