#(You let me choose so I choose to have Shirou make...well some sort of gesture at least)

[morethanaprincess-a]

@despairfiles​ said:  ♓ (guess who)

Make my muse blush! (still accepting!)

♓ Wildcard / Other/ Your choice!

So we’re going with... ♑ Your muse appears at mine’s window in the night and serenades their window. (post-Tragedy)

It was a rare occasion that Sonia went to sleep early anymore. Often, she had plenty to keep her up: an unfinished proposal or address (that came with the added worry about if she’d be at best, denied and ignored or at worst, had yet another assassination attempt), her memories, a movie to distract her from her present state of life. But that evening, too much weighed on her shoulders and her mind: the Castle was slowly returning to a state of normalcy after the new Remnants had attacked. Everything, it seemed, except for her.

It was supposed to have been easy. Or at least, she should’ve been preoccupied with the likes of one of those manila folders, if she would compress the entirety of a man into a sheet of desirable statistics. Instead, it took a dance, a daring act of bravery, a long night in a sturdy chair, and his bold suggestion to knock her entire world off its barely-stable axis: He’d made two real, legitimate suggestions: that they marry, and that she call him by his first name.

Sonia was still wrapping her mind around the ideas of both. But in sleep, and only sleep it seemed, she could quiet her mind and fall into something, hopefully, dreamless and restful.

But that night, she wasn’t going to be bestowed with either.

“Wh-what?” She suddenly gasped, groggy, as she sat up straight in bed. The Queen didn’t even look at the clock: for her, appointments, and the day itself, seemed to begin when she said they did. But by the small slivers of moonlight that crept through her windowpanes, it was still very dark and very early indeed. Nevertheless, there was something coming from outside her window. Something that the guards outside her doors seemed to be ignoring, or perhaps they couldn’t hear it at all.

With a yawn, Sonia struggled out of bed, barely able to reach for her dressing gown in her fatigue. Wrapping it over her nightgown, she then half-strode, half-stumbled to her French doors, pushed them open, and sauntered onto her balcony.

Only to find Emi-Shirou. Guarding? Singing? Both? Sonia rubbed her eyes though it was her ears that would be the culprits of possibly deceiving her. But neither had.

“Shirou, what the hell are you doing, precisely?” She asked. Sonia was far too tired to be upset: when she was younger, it was her patience and general optimism that kept her away from anger most of the time. Now, it was simply exhaustion. Her body and mind always seemed so worn out and while she’d quarreled with him in the past, she was in no mood to do so anymore. Or perhaps ever again, there was no point in it. Not when, despite her fatigue, she could look into his eyes and feel both contentment and anxiety at the same time. “Are you singing? It’s so very late!”

#more-than-a-princess answered #despairfiles #post neo world program verse #(Make my muse blush meme) #(You let me choose so I choose to have Shirou make...well some sort of gesture at least) #(Sonia's trying to figure out what he thinks he's doing singing at her window tbh)