Could you do Karkat <3 Kanaya for me please?

KARKAT’S AN EARLY 19TH CENTURY HAITIAN GENERAL AU

Kanaya presses the lapel down on his blazer, pinning it with smooth strokes and soft fingers. She does the golden buttons next, sliding them through each delicately embroidered hoop, admiring her handiwork and how they elegantly contrast the soft, red scarf wrapped around his neck.

She finishes him up perfectly, takes a step back, giving him final a glance up and down before she deems him fit for public appearance. He’s missing something, he looks…

“Do I look sufficiently pompous yet? Have you made me look like a fucking prince of nations?”

Ah, that’s what’s missing. He’s too put together for his sharp speech. She gets close, perhaps a little too close for a professional environment, and unbuttons the top three clasps of his jacket. His collar sags to the right, opening up more of that red scarf, making it pleasingly asymmetrical. She holds on to the lapel, rubbing her thumb against the smooth silk, not daring to look up at his face only inches away. He smells like thyme. She bites her lip.

“Yes, I’d say you do.”