Xion never thought there would be a day like this.
Forget him, even Allen, who was always stone-faced, had a peculiar expression.
His facial muscles barely moved, but the wide honey-brown eyes and slightly agape mouth were enough to force yet another layer of blush to bloom on Xion's cheeks.
Because across from him, Darius— yes, the great Archduke was holding a bowl and stirring it gently with a silver spoon and was getting ready to spoon-feed him.
It was porridge. Made exactly the way Xion liked it.
He'd woken up in the empty tent after almost two hours of another nap, and his stomach had started screaming for food. Not that he could blame it.
So, naturally, he pushed himself off the bed… only to nearly kiss the ground.
If it hadn't been for someone catching him, Xion would've faceplanted like a tragic little worm.
"Your Grace?" he blurted out, startled by the sudden presence behind him.
"I leave you for a few minutes, and you're already trying to run around?"
