The shuttle sat down on Guillotine at two in the morning. Sun Fang yawned as he stepped down the stairs, slowly shuffling his feat forward. Ivy followed behind him with his carry-on luggage, and they followed the glowing arrows on the ground to the spaceports entrance. The baggage claim was gigantic, the revolving equipment depositing luggage silent as the wind. Despite the late hour, plenty of people were wide awake at the spaceport. There was no such thing as night in a spaceport, after all.
The upside of arriving in the middle of the night was that there was no sun attempting to murder them. And Sun Fang had at least gotten plenty of sleep on the ride over and so wasn’t as tired as he otherwise would be.
Really, was he getting too old for staying up after midnight?
”I’m not old, right?” Sun Fang stopped and asked Ivy.
Ivy picked up a bag and placed it on the cart. ”Based on the current life-expectancy of humans, you do not classify as old.”
Pursing his lips, Sun Fang let the subject drop—though his mind continued to run over it. Right, forty-seven wasn’t old. He was a perfectly respectable age! (And very good-looking for it, too.) He rose a hand and fiddled a little with his ponytail, pulling it out only to braid the long platinum-colored hair.
Ivy was soon done with their bags and so they left the spaceport. Sun Fang’s car was collected from its storage, rolling smoothly out of the garage after they’d settled in. While Ivy was driving, Sun Fang retrieved his phone and put on a movie. He snapped it into place in the headrest of the seat in front of him and leaned back to enjoy the ride.
Some time later, they rolled to a stop in front of his apartment building. Sun Fang sighed, yawning a little as he tumbled out of the car. He snagged his phone before he’d forget about it and shoved it in a pocket, hiking his purse up over his shoulder. Yawning again, he leaned against the car while he waited for Ivy to grab all the bags. A doorman had conveniently arrived with a cart for them. Sun Fang eyed them, but didn’t say a word.
”Done?” he finally muttered as the car trunk was closed with a small bang. Sun Fang pushed off the car and walked up to Ivy, who was now beginning to push the cart ahead. Behind them, the car quietly sparked to life and began to head to the garage.
”Yes,” Ivy confirmed.
In the elevator, Sun Fang yawned an additional three times, his hand coming up to cover his mouth each time. He blearily looked around as he hummed along to the music softly treading out of the speakers. When they reached their floor, Sun Fang left first. He padded down the hallway on heavy feet.
The door didn’t open when he waved his hand over the biometric lock and he frowned, glancing at Ivy with a furrowed brow. Ivy simply placed its own hand on it and the door clicked open; Sun Fang was way too tired to bother thinking of the specifics of that. Instead, he continued to amble his way in, once again frowning as he saw the unfamiliar hallway.
”What?” he mumbled. But Ivy was still walking and Sun Fang was tired; he wanted to sleep. More importantly, he wanted to not think.
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So he merely followed his butler.
They reached a spiral staircase, and at the top of the thing was finally some familiar ground. Sun Fang glanced down the stairs and then looked up. He looked down. And up. And down.
It did not make sense to his tired brain.
Narrowing his eyes, he said, ”You did something, didn’t you,” to Ivy.
Ivy didn’t bother to deny it, ”I’ll show you properly tomorrow. It’s three in the morning, you need to go to sleep.”
Sun Fang continued to look at it suspiciously—until a yawn interrupted him. His eyes teared up from the force of it and he rubbed them, scowling. Placing his purse on a table, he wobbled off to his bedroom and collapsed on his bed, his eyes eyes already shut and his hands patting down the bed for the edge of the covers.
Awareness came back when Ivy’s voice reached him, ”You must brush your teeth, Young Master. I have the brush here, please just sit up.”
Sun Fang sat up. He blinked his eyes, shutting them and tilting to the side. Ivy caught him before he could fall over and then there was a toothbrush in his mouth, brushing his teeth. Sun Fang’s eyebrows furrowed, his mind trying to compute how that worked. It didn’t quite manage to make the connection.
At one point, he was told to spit. He made a questioning noise at that; he didn’t want to spit on the bed. But Ivy assured him it was fine and so he went. The brush was back after, and it continued like that for another minute or so until he was finally allowed to lay back down.
Sun Fang flopped onto his back. He yawned, rubbing his eyes. Staring up at the ceiling, his eyelids slowly slid closed, the view beginning to swim in front of him. He turned over on his side. Ivy was still in his room, pulling his shoes and socks off and a low melody was starting to weave its way through the air. Sun Fang easily recognized it; it was the melody of the lullaby Ivy played when he was a young boy.
He smiled. Burrowing his face deeper into the massive pile of pillows, he suppressed a yawn and drew up his legs when Ivy was done with them. His jacket was gently removed, the movements reminding him of when he was a child.
Sun Fang dreamed of Ivy and him as a child, playing in the manor’s garden.
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