I NEED MORE RUSSIAN GRAVEBONE PLS IT GIVES ME LIFE.
Credence looked away from the shop window he stood in front of, his eyes fixing upon the Count as the man approached him, his billowing greatcoat lapping at his legs as he walked towards Credence. Count Marzan looked into the window, raising a brow at the delicate glittering baubles displayed there.
“Did not take you for a Tiffany & Co. sort of man.”
“They’re pretty. I like pretty.” Credence murmured, pulling his plain black coat around himself tighter. “I like walking in this area. Looking at the pretty things that I can’t have.” Credence’s eyes flickered to Percival and there was a sharpness in his gaze that Percival had seen before in the boy’s mother. An assessment. A test. “Something you and I seem to have in common.”
“You say that as if I cannot have you.” Percival turned and offered his arm and Credence took it, the two of them walking slowly down the street. “I am always one to have charitable feelings towards beautiful young men with sad, dark eyes.”
“To your detriment, no doubt.” Credence hummed, looking straight ahead, refusing to look at the man he held onto. “Count Marzan, you must understand that my mother is a cruel woman with no tolerance for people of your… Disposition.”
“Is that why she beats you?”
Credence’s grip tightened on the man’s bicep as he stared ahead.
“My personal assistant, Tina Goldstein. She and her sister are quite the set of eyes and ears. And gossip always has a grain of truth.”
“A sodomite Russian aristocrat who employs a pair of Jewesses as his spies. My mother’s head might spin with the scandal of it all.” Credence’s lips twitched upwards the barest hint.
“Don’t all children go through a phase of wanting to scorn their parents? Who else for you to let yourself be had by than a sodomite Russian aristocrat who employs a pair of Jewesses as spies?”
Credence’s lips curved into a positively feline smile as he thought of that fact, of his mother’s face, not noticing that they were walking towards Bergdorf’s until they made it to the front steps.
“I am to buy my beautiful young lover an ermine stole.”
Credence tilted his head, looking directly at Count Marzan and taking in the handsome set of his features, carved from marble and darkly drawing the eye. “If your intention is to buy me…. Know that the cost might be greater than a few dollars spent in a shop.”
Percival smiled, slow and languid, a large cat licking at it’s teeth while beholding tender prey. “No cost is too great for you, sweet Credence.”
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