Lost sight of the man in the mirror
Following a heart of a sinner
Two fucking hours. He had exactly two hours of sleep before the grating buzz of an alarm began to fill the comfort of his all too dark bedroom. In that exhaustion, he had been wholly inattentive to the location of the alarm clock as his arm reached over towards the side table, feeling for it while his gaze remained closed. A soft growl left his lips at his sudden inability to find the damn thing, all the while assured that it was, somehow, getting louder. Tetradore could hardly deny that audible groan at his inability to shut the infernal device up and yet, it was that soft snicker that caused his gaze to flicker open in the darkness. It took a moment for his emerald eyes to adjust, only to find that alarm damn near floating before him and most certainly not on his nightstand. "God damn it, Matteo." He declared reaching out for the man only for his faux father to all but disappear, leaving that loudly buzzing alarm to fall with a muffled thud in his lap. He reached up, running his fingers through his hair with another loud groan - why did they have to leave for Italy so damn early? His hand flicked the off switch, giving way to sweet silence and yet...he had promised Dorian he would join him today. The fae had been nothing short of excited in those text messages, to the extent that even Tetradore was aware of it. Sometimes, he still found himself wondering just why Matteo had taken it upon himself to adopt him in such an official capacity - to the extent to bring him into the family that he knew well Matteo treasured more than life itself.
For his brother he supposed, he might be able to rouse himself from the truly comfortable embrace of his bed. A soft sigh left his lips again as he pulled himself from the sheets, his own gait more akin to a stumble towards the bathroom in an effort to splash water upon his face in some hope it might assist him in awakening. It had, admittedly, not taken him terribly long before the Were-King had packed a week's worth of clothing, the man hardly inclined to be terribly choosey in those articles. He had only turned his back upon that backpack for a brief moment before the sound of a thud refocused his attention upon that packed bag. For a moment, his eyebrow rose as he watched the clothes tumble out of that upside down bag only for his shoulders to drop in a near exasperated fashion as the Frenchman informed him that he had known Tetradore would somehow be incapable of packing his own things. So early in the morning, Tetradore was all too inclined to fall back to that almost childish demeanor as he announced that, if his bag was unsatisfactory, Matteo could pack it himself. No sooner had those words left his lips than did he find that backpack tossed within his direction, the boy left to trail after the Frenchman with a clear look of incredulousness upon his features as his Father went through the entirity of his closet for something far more suitable for the possibility of being in the spotlight. Apparently a t-shirt of a band he'd never hear of and a pair of jeans was unacceptable when standing next to the King of Italy.
The Frenchman was altogether relentless in his teasing this morning, all but declaring it nothing short of a miracle that Tetradore had both gone asleep and still had been woken up relatively on time for that flight, one he insisted the Were-King was going to miss if he moved any slower. It was that very declaration that had prompted him to all but reach out to steal the backpack back, resulting in a short game of teleportation chase - one that ended with a victorious Tetradore standing in the cold and dark upon the tarmac with the bag tossed over his shoulder. A small grin touched his features at his altogether smug victory, one that turned into laughter at the sound of Matteo's voice behind him informing him that he had cheated - as the Frenchman so often said when he'd lost. He could hear the snap of a camera behind him as Matteo informed him he was taking a picture of this 'momentous occasion', that playful shove within his shoulder only serving for Tetradore to swing that backpack perhaps with more gusto then necessary in retaliation. The Frenchman's goading that he had missed, however, had prompted perhaps a far greater reaction within him as Tetradore pivoted upon the balls of his feet, near tackling the Ambassador where he stood only to leave the pair tumbling into the cold embrace of the mound of snow behind his father.
The Were-King could hardly help that scrunch of his features as he sat up, reaching up to ruffle his hair in an effort to rid himself of those flakes, his jacket all but damp from that unanticipated plunge into the snow bank. That laughter had all but dissipated in the wake of that cold that embraced him and yet, it was the sudden reassurance that everything would be okay that truly stole the simper from his features. Sometimes, he preferred to forget that secretive life he led - particularly considering that things had been nothing short of a struggle of late. He nodded ever so slightly at that reassurance and yet, it was clear that anxiety still lingered on his thoughts, despite how subtle it was. It was only with Matteo's promise to keep an eye upon the future, however, that Tetradore pulled himself from the depths of the snow. He was wholly unaware that the pair were being watched as he made his way towards the plane that awaited him. Easily, Tetradore climbed the steps up and into the wonderful warmth that eagerly embraced him. God, how he relished in that coziness when compared to the arctic temperatures outside. His emerald eyes skirted towards the standing figure of his sibling, only to find himself approached by two women with towels held out for him. A wholly baffled look crossed his features as he tentatively took an offered towel.
"Uh...thanks...?" Tetradore commented, briefly unfolding it as he approached Dorian. That backpack slipped from his shoulder as he tossed it in the seat beside that offered one. He utilized the towel to rustle his curly locks before it too was tossed on top of his backpack. His gaze fluttered towards that amused grin upon Dorian's lips as the fae inquired after his tumble into the snow with Matteo. Tetradore could hardly help the roll in his eyes as he flopped within that chair across Dorian. "It's really not important." He responded, simply shaking his head at the Frenchman's antics that had led to such a dive in the first place. His own attention shifted briefly behind him, following Dorian's as the staff closed the door to the airplane, clearly preparing for taking off. Tetradore shifted back in his seat just as Dorian gestured towards the table between them. "Hot chocolate is fine, thank you." He commented, easily brushing off that offer for other beverages as he reached out for that mug already prepared for him. Slowly, Tetradore reclined further into his own chair, a small yawn on his lips as he lifted that mug, only to cradle it in his hands for warmth. His eyebrow rose ever so slightly, both at the prospect of Dorian's servants and the day ahead of him. After all, with such little sleep in his veins, a chaotic day sounded nothing short of...awful. "What did you have planned for today?" He inquired, the weight of his own intensely vibrant gaze falling upon his sibling with some note of weariness.