Kurda looked at himself in the mirror and swore. He didn't look right, he wouldn't fit in with any of the others downstairs; his outfit looked cheap, like he'd bought his shoes from Oxfam, he didn't have cufflinks and the suit was definitely not tailored. Before he had retreated to his room to get changed he had caught a glimpse of Mika and he knew there was no chance he was anywhere close to the same standard as the other man.

There was a reason the high ups at the company were jokingly referred to as "princes". They had money enough to spend on flashy outfits that could have paid off Kurda's house, car and probably his student loans and still not feel any pain from it. Even their accents didn't match up. Kurda was still struggling with sounding like he wasn't from the North, all the dropped sounds and half finished words that anyone from home would understand so easily but these upper class Southerners blinked at like he'd started speaking another language. Mika sounded polished and refined and like he actually belonged here. He could stand in front of a crowd and have everyone's attention fixed on him, be feeding them lines with so much ease it was like he was born into it. And he probably was.

Kurda tugged at his shirtsleeves one more time and sighed, deciding that it was now or never. He didn't have the ability to spend all of his night in here fiddling with his outfit and trying to make it look like something it wasn't. He turned away from the mirror and picked up his watch from the bed. This was it. He took a deep breath in, opened the door,

And walked straight into the solid chest of Mika Ver Leth.

He instantly turned bright red and tried to back up, an action made all the more difficult by Mika's solid grip on his arms to keep him steady. "I was just about to come down, sorry if I've been too late." He stammered out, feeling his face heat up. Mika hadn't moved and was standing so close, and up this close Kurda could see just how well tailored that suit was. It was clearly something specifically made, not just picked up from a rack and fitted later. This looked so good on him that it could have only been designed from the ground up for the younger Prince.

"Easy. Paris asked me to check on you." Mika began and in an instant Kurda was wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole so he wouldn't have to go down and face everyone there. He wasn't even sure why he had been invited, and why his absence had been something so noteworthy to have Paris asking about him. "And… And I also wanted an excuse to get away for a minute. Crepsley was glaring at me for keeping Arra's attention for so long, I think." There was the smile that Kurda both loved and dreaded seeing. It made Mika look even more handsome, but Mika looking more handsome also unfortunately meant that his ability to use his brain lessened by the second.

Mika could make a joke that Kurda had heard a thousand times before and he would still end up laughing, and genuinely finding it funny. Moments like this were like the two of them were keeping the world at bay, snapshots of something that could possibly be. At least until a sound brought the illusion crumbling down around them and neither of them could pretend that they weren't part of the world anymore.

"I thought he was going to stab Vanez the other week because he hugged her." Kurda commented offhand when he'd finally managed to get himself under control enough to speak again. It wasn't fair how Mika could just sweep in like this and make him feel like he didn't have both feet solidly on the floor. "Well, I was just about to go down. He knows he doesn't have anything to worry about with me. Arra is the one that would stab me first."

Finally Mika let go of his arms and stepped back. There was a moment where Kurda couldn't quite identify what emotions passed over his face before Mika held out his arm. "General Smahlt." There was that teasing smile and Kurda ducked his head for a moment, blond hair escaping from behind his ear, and stepped in closer to accept.

"Sire ver Leth. Lead the way."

Author's Notes: Title and much of the inspiration for this ficlet from The Amazing Devil. I used many songs in the writing of this; Pruning Shears, Wild Blue Yonder, Farewell Wanderlust, Fair... basically The Horror and The Wild. It's a fantastic album and I 100% recommend it.
I haven't actually worked out what jobs Kurda and Mika do beyond obviously upper management in some capacity. If you have any suggestions please comment with them.