Hi pearls I’m still here! New (castlevania) season, new readers! That means new stories and updates! 😊 I’m so grateful for all of you and all the love and grace you’ve shown me through the hiatus! I’ve healed my mental health quite a bit and my nervous system, I’m very grateful to be able to do so. Looking forward to more tales and self inserts~ 🌸 💎 thank you for everything, every kind word, every follow and fave, every message and more! 🥰🥰🥰
I’m sorry pearls for the delay. I’m still stuck at a dead end job that zaps my energy where I produce literal rocks compared to what I feel like I produce here! I’ve been hunting for something more leisurely and on the mark of what I should be paid…so I can then dedicate more time to me, and what I love! Job hunting has been difficult, four months plus and no end in sight…as I’m sure it’s been for many. So just a heads up I’m still here and still a hopeless romantic…just extremely overworked and underpaid at the moment! 😭 I know that’s not as romantic to read and I wish it wasn’t true, but it’s honest, and hopefully I can make my life more romantic irl soon! Until next time ✉️
You and Alucard traipse from town to town together...until trouble strikes in the form of claws, fangs and delayed vengeance. With you left shaken and marked, your host isn’t keen on letting you back out of the castle anytime soon. Normally, this stifling limitation would annoy you...but Alucard has been spending more time with you, lately. Getting closer and closer...
...perhaps being stuck in the castle isn’t so bad, after all?
The next chilly morning, true to his word, you and Alucard make your way down to the garden to gather the harvest.
You’ve switched into a road dress, not wanting to let the nicer gowns that Alucard has conjured for you go to waste. Your hair is bundled up in a scarf neatly behind your head. You’re wearing gloves, ready to work. Alucard makes his way over to the garden and leans down, showing you how he intends to prepare the harvest to take into town.
“This is how we’ll wrap them. Watch closely...You see? Show me.”
He is watchful at first, instructing you on how to bind and rope the packaging just so. It is to keep any of the stock from falling to the wayside while you’re both on horseback, leaving a trail of produce behind you.
His eyes are as sharp as ever, framed by lowered, dusky blonde lashes as he takes in your handiwork. The low rumblings of his voice give constructive critique, and you manage to avoid any accidents under his gaze. You wonder what he thinks of your hands briefly, before refocusing on the task.
You’re curious now, finding his instructive personality to be a much calmer one than his default. He seems so sure of himself here in the garden, and less walled off. Prepping vegetables is clearly something he had learned prior to your visit (as unseemly as it seemed to be for someone like him), and it is something he seemed more than willing to teach. Alucard seemed like one who liked to learn, now you thought of it.
Soon after, you wait as Alucard spirits away. He reappears with Brutus at his side and together, you prep the saddlebags before mounting the steed and taking off into the woods.
You lean back into Alucard as you watch the tree leaves speed by overhead, the feel of hooves stamping and thrumming through you both. The sound is rhythmic, soothing, and the smell of the green fills you. Alucard’s cologne mixes in with it, his hair beating against his back, with stray locks falling past your shoulders. It is still cool, yet the heat of the horse and his heavy riding gear warms you both.
You sigh, realizing.
‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,’ you think.
Eventually, you arrive in town and it is lively. You sell everything, making a good profit. You know it isn’t needed, but it is nice to have something to do. You talk to vendors and merchants, your tongue wagging in conversation and your mood feeling light.
‘No,’ you readjust. ‘It’s not in the woods I want to be. Perhaps here? This town? But there’s nothing special about it…’
Currently passing by a stand of jewelers while in thought, one of them reaches out to you, giving you pause. You look into a wrinkled face.
“Yes?”
“A necklace for you, girl? A ring, an anklet?”
You stare at the wares, considering. You’re not here for jewelry you remember, though they are pretty.
“I couldn’t, but thank you.” You say.
“Oh, but you could. What a lovely dress you have on. Never seen one like it.”
You look down to your dress, another that arose from the depths of Alucard’s inventory. It is simpler in comparison to what you know him to have from the clothes you’ve seen this far.
“Thank you,” you say.
“Did your husband gift that to you?” the jeweler inquires, gesturing over your shoulder. You follow their gaze and realize they are looking at Alucard across the stalls, across the road itself. He is kneeling near a tavern wall, gifting coins to some street children, an old woman or two huddled beside the shadows of the building.
He does not realize you are looking. He doesn’t know you are watching him give what you’ve both earned away to those that need it.
You find yourself surprised. You thought that Alucard ignored most of the world outside his castle and his surroundings. He could certainly afford to. Someone like him would never need to understand or empathize with the destitute and the ill. The human.
And yet there he was.
“He’s…not my husband.” you find your lips saying to the merchant as you continue to watch Alucard.
“But you came into town with him.” The voice is suddenly sharp. You turn to look and see the merchant appears oddly hostile.
“What concern is it of yours?” you say, retreating a step back.
“Nice dress,” the merchant spits. “He is finely dressed, like you. He gives money away like water. Your skin is clear and dewy. You want for nothing. It’s in the way you move. Slow, measured. You can afford the jewelry. You can.”
You find yourself turning to go, yet the offending seller follows you down the line of stalls.
“Are you a mistress? A hanger-on? Does his wife know? How shameless of you, to parade around like this. The things young ladies do for money, these days.”
Your temper gets the best of you. By the time you feel it, it is too late.
You turn around and crowd in on the seller. Their eyes widen, understanding very quickly that the dynamic has changed. They take a step back. You follow.
“Go on, do slander me. Great sales tactic, I’m sure your wares fly off the shelves, the customers love it so much! And not that it’s any of your fucking business, but do tell me; how you would know anything about what I do and why?”
“...Why else would an unwed woman be out and about with a man so blatantly—”
“ —I could be anything, you bint. I could be a mercenary with a partner, a scholar with a professor, a diplomat with a guide…is your mind so small that the only thing you could conjure is an escort? Even if I was, I still wouldn’t buy your jewelry…you insult me, and you insult him. I won’t have it.”
“Is there a problem?”
You and the seller turn to find Alucard towering over your shoulder.
“No,” you and the seller say in unison, one out of fear and one out of dismissiveness.
Alucard gestured to the gems in the jeweler’s hands, plucking a shining necklace from the bunch easily. The jeweler tremored a bit, looking between you both.
“Ah, sir...your wife was simply looking at my wares. Pretty things for a pretty thing.”
Alucard holds the necklace up beside your face then, not answering the seller. He doesn’t refute or explain, only watches you. You watch his eyes take you in alongside the gem before he seems to make a decision.
He clutches the necklace back into his grip and hands some coins over to the seller wordlessly. The seller mumbles their thanks before shuffling away, seemingly disbelieving that they made a sale after such a torrid argument.
Alucard dangles the necklace before you. “Do you like it?”
You frown. “You heard what they said to me.”
“I heard you defend our honor.”
“Is this a thanks for that?”
“This is because I want to.”
You pause then, a bit taken aback.
“I suppose...it’s pretty,” you try.
Alucard situates behind you, fastening the necklace to your neck before clasping it together.
“Then,” his breath warms the back of your neck, “I suppose it’s yours.”
Together, you continue through town, the necklace on your neck. The gem weighs against your sternum and you wonder if other people are noticing it, noticing the two of you.
You are too nervous to inquire further on it.
Soon enough, the day’s dealings are done. On the way back home, you find yourself liking the woods once more, and then the castle itself upon the return home.
Home.
Ah.
‘I want to be where he is,’ you realize.
Yes. That’s it.
Alucard stalks up the steps before turning to you, curious.
“Coming?”
You find yourself smiling, not quite sure why. He also seems taken aback by the sudden expression.
“Yes. Let’s go home.”
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Every other week, the two of you venture into different towns for supplies. Sometimes you go with hooded shrouds, other times you walk freely out in the open. Sometimes Alucard takes you into the nearby towns, and sometimes he steers Brutus further out. You have a feeling he has a system on how he navigates the outside world, a system that keeps eyes off of him and keeps nosy townsfolk from tracking his identity.
You love the trips. You love seeing other people and conversing with them, you love shopping through the inventory, you love getting the little bit of sun left in the chilly weather and you love going there and back with Alucard. He is like a patient specter…whether right next to your side or not, you have a feeling that he keeps his eyes and ears on you at all times.
It is during a return from another town, that something amiss happens.
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You’re riding in a wagon this time as Alucard directs Brutus, hitched and pulling the wagon along. It brings with it some new items, and a few things for you to use. You both could have went without any of it, you understand, but the socialization in bartering and trading was well worth it. It keeps the castle from feeling stifling, at times. You find yourself looking forward to return to it.
Brutus stops suddenly, rearing back a bit. Alucard’s eyes sharpen as he looks out into the forest, clearly hearing something. You watch him turn his head this way and that.
He calls your name. “__________, stay in the—”
You feel something drop into the wagon behind you, knocking things aside and pulling up close to your back.
It is not a warm presence. It is ice cold.
A hand grabs you roughly by the hair from behind, forcing you to bear your neck. You shriek in pain, unable to hide it. The shriek breaks into a gasp as you feel something sharp at the front of your throat, barely catching a gleam of the attacker’s blade.
Your head is wrenched so far back by the fist threatening to yank out your hair, that you can’t even lock eyes with Alucard. You can only focus on the trees lining above and try not to wrestle too much so that you don’t cut your own throat.
‘This is very different from the last time I looked up like this,’ you note uselessly. ‘Let me understand who we’re fighting before I try anything…’
You quickly try tapping into other senses. You can hear two others drop nearby, on either side of the wagon. You can smell the scent of old blood and grime.
Alucard doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word. Brutus settles.
The one holding you at knifepoint laughs, their belly bouncing against your back. You feel sick.
“Little prince,” the one behind you calls. His voice is thick, like the seafaring folk of the north. “We heard the king is gone. Thought you were too. Guess it got mixed up in the letters.”
‘Vampires,’ you understand, putting it all together.
The breath rolling off your attacker smells rancid and you wince. Your captor notices, yanking you again and earning another whine out of you.
“Don’t like that, do you? Here, have some more—ah, ah, ah, little prince!” you feel the knife burrow a little closer in your skin, barely cutting it. “You’re fast, yes you are! But my knife will be faster. And your pretty little livestock will not recover from a blow like this. Hold your place.”
It is silent then, and another heavily accented voice from the side chips in.
“They say our leader never returned from your father’s castle,” it spits. “Where is Godbrand?”
“It seems,” Alucard clips in a low, threatening manner you’ve yet to hear yourself before, “you already know. What did you come for?”
“Godbrand,” they state again. “You will take us to him.”
Alucard laughs then, low and mirthless. “An army came and went. A rebellion began and ended. Where have you three been this whole time?”
You hear hissing and shuffling about.
“Give her to me,” Alucard says, “and I let you live.”
The one behind you laughs again, curdling your stomach with the smell, the cruelty.
“This isn’t a bargain or a trade, boy. Have you gone insane? Look at all this shit,” he kicks something in the wagon aside, “Cabbages! For a bloodsucker? Ha! You’re a trader now, Prince? You play merchant and house with this human whore? You, who can fly across nations, teleport through realities, and shapeshift into anything...taking this piece of shit wagon in the woods?”
The man spits and you pray it was to the side and not in your hair. Fucker.
“You sicken me! Weak. Your father would rattle to life if he knew what you were up to with those talents, wasting them for pussy. Like father, like son I guess.”
You can see the woods darken from where you are. You can spy the treetops begin to shroud in dark clouds. The air feels heavy.
Something is coming.
“You do not know my father,” Alucard says. “And as you said yourself…just like your pissant leader, your king is dead too.”
You shiver at the boldness in his statement, afraid of the knife slicing across your neck in retribution. Is he even thinking of you? But you hear it then…the vampire behind you…his breath hitches. You are saved from the foul smell.
The vampires are afraid, you understand. Alucard knows this.
You decide to use this moment. You feel behind you for the vampire holding you hostage and try to focus the energy from your core. Sparks fly between your fingers and it is enough to jolt the assailant. You use his surprise to lean back into him, away from the knife and staggering him to the side.
It is the wrong move. The vampire simply uses inhuman strength to get you right back where he wants you, hands gripped in his fist behind your back and your neck under the blade. You’re both gasping from the struggle, but now with the vampire’s grip twisting your wrists instead of your hair, you can see Alucard and the others.
Alucard is closer, now. Just before the wagon, almost. His eyes burn into you before focusing on the attacker. You have never seen them more animalistic than that first day you met.
“See? Fast,” the assailant behind you sing-songs again. “But not faster than the knife!”
The other two vampires draw in behind Alucard, who pays them no mind. The one behind you tightens his grip on you. You feel your eyes begin to traitorously well up, all the emotions running high from this dangerous situation and frustration from being unable to reach Alucard…safety…who is just out of arm’s reach.
“What’s so special about this one?” the vampire asks, nudging his face against yours tauntingly. His beard leaves a burn behind that you despise. “Can’t be what’s under the dress. Those are all the same. Maybe it’s the blood?”
You feel a tongue lathe at your cheek then, and groan in disgust as you try to inch away without running towards the knife. It’s impossible, and you’re trapped in the game of cat and mouse.
Alucard’s eyes darken even further.
“I think,” Alucard begins, his voice steady and his footsteps backing slowly away from the wagon, “you abandoned your posts. I think you felt that you could slither back from where you came without Godbrand…only to find others like him, who would rip you apart for your cowardice. You thought by coming here you would spare yourselves from that...”
The darkness grows so heavy that you can hardly see. Alucard’s voice is the only thing that can cut it.
“...You should’ve let them rip you apart.”
“Oh-ho…now I know she must taste divine, for you to act this way,” your trapper calls, before he foolishly moves the knife from your throat and uses it to cut at your dress in a quick move. Your dress’s front opens and your sleeve is harshly moved aside, sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder. Before the teeth even puncture, you hear something sharp ring through the air.
It all happens so fast, you can hardly catch it.
A long sword erupts at your side, running through your assailant’s head and missing yours by inches. The vampire pulls off of you to shout, dropping his knife, and you lunge forward and away. You hear his screams warble and croak off behind you.
Another vampire leaps to grabs you up by the shoulders, yanking you off the wagon entirely. You feel his hands get ripped away from you as you hit the forest floor harshly. You’re quick to stand, swaying in confusion and adrenaline before trying to flee. Alucard and another assailant visualize before you, weapons swinging midair before they vanish once more. It’s almost as if you imagined it…but you can still hear the battle echoing around you.
'Fast,' you understand, turning back and ducking under the wagon.
Too fast for a human to run away from, likely. You don’t want to get in Alucard’s way while he disposes of these ambushers.
You hear clangs and hisses, shouts and bodies hitting the forest floor. Soon enough, it is quiet. You see Alucard’s boots materialize in front of the wagon.
‘He’s here,’ you think.
You crawl from under the wagon and before you can even move to stand, Alucard’s hands pull you up and draw you in. You clutch the front of his blouse tightly, squeezing into him and the cradle of his arms.
That was scary. You don’t want to go through that again. Now that Alucard’s here, it’s alright.
You peek past his hold and spy a leg on the ground. Just one, nameless leg.
‘Right then. He took care of things.’
He pulls you back, his grip firm. His eyes rove over you as his hair flies astray, made a mess from the fight.
“Are you hurt?”
You look up to him to speak, and find yourself voiceless.
The ride back to the castle is a blur for you. The bodies of the vampires are left long behind and Alucard is sure to let the wagon roll over them on the disembarkment.
You sit in front of him instead of in the wagon, his arms tight around you.
Once at the castle, he makes quick work of unholstering the horse and stabling it away. He unloads the wagon. Then he finds you, still standing amongst everything, waiting for him and lost in your thoughts.
You’re guided through the castle in silence, the arrival to your personal bathroom harkened by the loud steps on the floor.
Alucard runs the tub’s faucet, steaming water jetting out. You sit aside, looking straight ahead and pawing at your neck, feeling the puncture marks and frowning.
Alucard looks at you then, stepping over to lift your hair aside, gazing at your bruised neck.
“Will I turn…?” you rasp.
“No,” he murmurs. “Their intent was to feed. Not to change.”
You feel the tears then, and sniffle a bit before looking down at the floor. Alucard lowers his hand before brushing a few of the tears away. His thumb, his touch, is not cold like theirs you realize.
It is anything but.
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The trips come to an end, abruptly.
After the attack, you find that Alucard is unwilling to return to town anytime soon.
You’re annoyed, but you understand why. He’s borne of an immortal creature, somewhat like a demigod on Earth. Trouble like what you faced on the road before is not hindrance to him.
It’s you.
You’ve picked up your skills, but you still feel shaken after those vampires got so close to you…literally close enough to taste. It scared you then and it rattles you now.
He buffs up the insulation for the stable and prepares bedding and blankets for the animals. He takes cuttings from the garden to inventory in dry storage, there for future use while the Earth’s soil freezes over for the season.
Not long after, the snow begins to fall and frost begins to set.
It is terribly beautiful from the castle. You can see the forest spread out far and wide, the treetops painted white and the snow falling easily. The stone of the castle keeps you warm from the elements, able to enjoy the beauty from a perch you weren’t always able to use.
You can almost remember the feel of trudging through thick snow like that, nothing but boots and cloth. Like a true adventurer.
You feel a bit nostalgic.
‘What am I missing…?’ you wonder.
One day, he catches you staring out the castle windows at the snowy grounds below.
“Don’t fret,” he assures, interpreting your expression to be woe. “Spring will return soon enough. It may be safer to travel, then.”
When you don’t respond right away, he comes nearer and looks out the window with you.
“You’ve made your way through the library, I would assume. Nothing left to peer over?”
You think for a moment, your thoughts taking a while to gather as you take in the snow.
“Are you reading something at the moment, Alucard?”
“I am.”
‘I am lonely,’ you realize.
Yet, your host is right here. Perhaps he could help solve this dilemma?
“Can I read with you?” you ask, your voice softer than intended.
Alucard pauses a moment, clearly surprised. “With me...?”
“Yes,” you say. “With you.”
“I…” he looks at you for a long moment before nodding slightly. “Where would you prefer—”
“The parlor,” you decide. “In front of the fireplace.”
You head to the parlor together, quiet through the halls. Soon enough, you enter one of the many throughout the castle. You often wonder why this one is favored for Alucard, though you’ve never drawn it upon yourself to ask why.
You find you quite like it yourself. The colors are warm, the books rise high against their glassed cases, the fireplace is grand and warm, and the rugs and throws are divine. The settee is of a more soft material than the other leathered furniture in the castle.
It is softer, here.
You sit easily in front of the fireplace, on the fur rug before it. It is clean and cozy for a floor, a far cry from the floors you’ve both sat and slept on in the past during your travels when an inn was out of the question. The fire crackles loudly as you settle, thinking back on the days before you were housed, your vagabond adventures.
You sigh contentedly and watch the fire, your dress swaddling around you as you settle. You don’t even notice your host until he is beside you, holding out your current book.
‘So he still tracks me,’ you think amusedly. “Surely my reading habits cannot interest you this much?” you jest.
Alucard ignores your teasing before taking his own and seating himself in the chair next to the rug. It faces the fire, the glow warming you both.
You watch as he takes off his jacket and vest, hanging them aside and relaxing in one of the simpler white blouses he sometimes dons. He palms open his book and begins taking in the story before him.
You note how rigid he is.
‘Is he nervous?’ you wonder suddenly. As far-reaching as it is for someone like him, you feel as though he is. Maybe all this time, he wasn’t disgusted, but instead unsure of what to do with himself.
‘Hopeless man.’
“Relax,” you insist, tugging at his nearest leg beside you. He pauses in the chair at your touch, but you do not relent. You smooth a comforting hand down his calf casually before pulling away easily. “There’s no reason to trouble yourself with whatever is rattling around in that head of yours. Let the fire warm you. Relax.”
You relax on the rug, one hand on the floor and the other flipping through your book as you read.
“Are you quite comfortable?” he asks suddenly.
You look up, watching Alucard watch you. You nod, smiling before looking back to your book.
It is a warmer feeling now than it was by the window, and though the fire helped, it was not the cause.
You find yourself toeing your shoes off and curling into the carpet, watching him watch you.
'Enough of this.'
You go over to him and his chair before seating yourself on his lap and curling up on him in the chair, book in hand. You feel his body turn like stone underneath you, but you choose to relax further, opening the book as you lay your head on his chest, curls tumbling down his front.
It is quiet for a long time, and you sigh comfortably before sinking back into your story and relaxing on your host. He unfolds inch by inch before finally unclenching himself all the way through, loose and easy.
He does not ask that you stop. He does not say a word. You hardly think he's breathing at this point.
You smile. 'Now was that so hard...?'
Alucard's hand suddenly reaches over to pluck the book out of your grasp before putting it aside; he then touches the underside of your jaw.
"What are you doing?" he murmurs at you. It's not a question, not really.
"Whatever I want," you reply easily, meeting his gaze. "I know that's probably fascinating for someone as straight-edge as y—"
His lips are against yours before you can even finish the sentence. His hands tangle in your hair, fingers unable to run through and clenching at your scalp instead, directing you. He leans you back as he leans forward, eager to seemingly sink into the very being of you.
He's never been this forceful with you before. It has never felt so good.
Your eyes draw closed against it, a whimper escaping you before you kiss back eagerly. You don't know who started with tongue but you're both pursuing it now, chasing one another down as the kiss continues into something more heating.
'He doesn't taste like blood,' you think. 'He tastes like wine.'
You hear the fireplace crackling at your side, the fever of the flames against your skin, the rustling noise of your dress against his clothes, and more than anything...you feel the hot, iron handprint of his touch at your waist, at your neck, at your shoulders, on and on the touching continues.
He pulls back, rasping words escaping him.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he begins, stroking at your waist as he eyes your mouth, fighting himself not to kiss you again. The words are bitten out, barely restrained.
"I'm not asking anything," you say, repositioning yourself in the chair to straddle him. "But if you show me...? Then maybe I'll ask nicely. Just for you."
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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.
Sorry for the absence ladies, I'm in the process of escaping a trash job! Anyway, the important stuff...all my current stories will be completed, but what story would you prefer to see next? Just curious
Reader x Geralt (The Witcher) - A hurt/comfort rescue tale
Reader x Alucard (Castlevania) - A dark, gory forbidden love tale
Hey girlie, you’ve been gone for a while. Are you good?
I’m okay 🥲 I just work a job that’s too demanding and hard on me. I’m job hunting rn because I want to have time to do the things I enjoy, like this! Thank you so much for checking in on me, you all are so sweet. ❤️🖤
📜 🖋 𝒞ourting with 𝒟r. 𝒟evorak (Julian x BlackReader) Pt.5
PART 5 SUMMARY:
Snow is beginning to fall around Vesuvia once more, yet your heart beats as warm as a fireplace for your latest suitor. Having been given the option of choosing your next romantic destination, you opt for a lantern festival and ice showing at the Royal Palace...yet many surprises await for you there, threatening to turn the evening into something else entirely.
The next letter from Julian arrives in equal shape, similar to the first. Formal, yet unseemly tattered paper and postage. As before, there are no fine designs or grand engravings. The wax seal touts no crest, and there is just the barest scent of a man’s cologne following it. Again, he’s trapped ferns and dried leaves that he clearly assumed pretty on his part to the seam of the envelope. Perhaps they also have medicinal properties pertinent to the season.
You smile, bringing the letter close before unsealing it. More wooded scent wafts out from the layer of paper and you let your eyes rove over the script before you.
I humbly request another audience with you at the week’s end. I hope to allow for you to pick your own adventure this occasion, and I’ll see to it that all your wishes are fulfilled.
I do not wish to be forward, and yet; I must confess that I anticipate our outing with bated breath. If it is not disagreeable to you, in honor of receiving your gifted favor from the previous nights before, I depart upon you a gift I hope you find to be worth adorning.
An ornate, wooden box is suddenly brought to you by a maid, an accompaniment. You nod your thanks to the maid and watch her depart before turning back to your item. Opening it, you find the most delicate of bracelets.
You palm it in your hand and raise it to the light, watching the way the small jewels gleam and glint vivaciously.
It is a very well thought out gift. Not so large and binding that it would infer the intentions of entrapment and possessiveness, but not so loose as to suggest you mean nothing to the one who gave the gift. The jewels are not so big that they are gaudy and distasteful, but not so small that they would not draw admiring gazes and gossip.
You caress it and think to yourself, wondering of what fun occasion the two of you could attend...fun, yet...strategic.
You’ve been around Julian’s crowd, a working man’s crowd. His colleagues and apprentices, his old professors and competition in the medical market. You met them all politely
Your crowd is much different. Perhaps it’s time to see how he will handle himself around the elite of Vesuvia...?
“Delilah, Lilian,” you request easily, sitting at your vanity. As your two staffers come near, you think to yourself absently, twirling your finger in your kinky curls. You offer one of them a wrist and the other the bracelet; they make quick work of clasping it to your wrist.
Watching them handle you, you decide on what you will inquire.
“What are some of the events lined up this week in Vesuvia?”
“For yourself, Miss? Or for friends?” Lilian notes.
You smile. “For courting.”
“Ah! Well...” the two of them consider what they know, glancing at one another. Delilah is the first to speak.
“Since winter is upon us, there’s the annual evening ice viewing at the Royal Gardens. They always follow up with a lantern showing later in the night.”
Lilian nods in agreement. “I think that would be rather lovely. Everyone from across the city watches the lanterns rise. Few can watch it from the gardens themselves.”
“Of course,” you say, “that is perfect. Thank you, both.”
The event itself is not the most strategic of occasions...but you genuinely enjoy the ice viewings every year. And it has been a long time since you saw the lanterns release in-person, much less from the Royal Gardens themselves.
You’re looking forward to this venture! Other influentials will be there, some whom you’ve been courted by, and others of notability or useful networking.
It is the kind of pool you normally swim in. You thrived in Julian’s environment...you’d like to see how he will fare in yours.
I look forward to our evening along the coast on Royal grounds. We’ll be amongst the ice and the lanterns.
I am glad you hold my favor so dearly to you. Your gift is more than agreeable to me, and I will be sure to express my sincerest gratitude upon our next meeting. The gemstones are my favorite. I do wonder how you happened to know.
Another secret for me to find out. I will look forward to it.
As the sun begins to set, you draw into your room and begin the next stage of the process.
You’ve already had your staffers style you in long, thickly roped twists earlier that morning. Your hair is washed, oiled, perfumed, and gleaming to all who gaze upon your crown. They worked and worked while you soaked in a lavender milk bath, flower petals further scenting the water and you inside out.
After the bath, it is time to dress.
You choose a fine leaflet tiara, before adorning yourself with your jewels and normal accessories. Your makeup is applied, your feet outfitted in glass slippers, your hands sleeved.
You stand before the mirror and you liken yourself to a winter goddess who’s found her way back into power...back home. You glitter and gleam, from your dark skin and white teeth, to your ethereal clothing. You’re a beauty, as always.
You smile at the reflection. You will never, never forget who you are.
“Madam, he has arrived. He awaits in the parlor for you.”
Your eyes linger on yourself just a moment longer.
“How fortunate he is,” you note easily, before turning away and sweeping out of the room.
You descend, and the scene is familiar. Like before, you leave your suitor stunned as he takes you in, his mouth quirking slightly. It’s as if he can hardly believe you stand before him, dazzling as you are.
He remembers himself and clears his expression, bowing in a gentlemanly manner before reaching his palm out skyward, an offer to kiss your hand. As he leans, you spy your favor — your handkerchief — in his breast pocket.
You allow him to take your proffered hand and he kisses it smoothly.
“My eyes are relieved to lay upon you,” he murmurs.
“Mine feel similarly towards you, good sir.”
“And where, may I ask, have you decided to spirit us away to this evening?”
“It is just like I stated in our last written exchange,” you remind, “a surprise.”
“Oh?” he wonders aloud. “I thought you were simply jesting. Surely you’d let your dear companion be in the know.”
You turn, facing him then. He pauses, set aback by your boldness.
“Do you enjoy mystery, Mr. Devorak?”
His head tilts a bit.
“I do.”
“...Intrigue?”
“Yes.”
“Drama?”
“You know I do.”
You smile.
“Then savor this. Let me draw you into the dark by the pads of your fingers. You know not where I take you, where we go. Stumble. Stagger. And savor every second of it.”
A slow smile draws on his face then, and you feel as though your play at seduction has backfired onto you rather spectacularly.
He looks devilishly handsome with a smile like that.
You find you do not mind the misfire.
“Sir? Madam?” a coachman calls.
You both are escorted by your staff out into your courtyard and into the ebony wagon of Dr. Devorak’s once again, before rolling off into the night.
Julian remains conservative behind closed doors, but there is an edge of something else to him this time…you do not know if he’s found his own inner authority or what else could be the culprit of his boldness, but he is more open it seems...
...More mischievous.
A gloved hand brushes the underside of your arm as he points to something out the window, you feel his sidelong glances as you bump along through the night, and when you catch his gaze he does not release his own. He sits a little taller, speaks a little lower, answers a bit slower. He is not so focused on impressing you as he is with taking you in as you are in the present moment.
For some reason, you find yourself growing slightly nervous under his intensity. It is nothing new to have men and women gaze upon you or desire you openly, but Julian’s fire is a low simmer, a barely-there thing. It would be easy to miss, but once caught, impossible to ignore. The more you grow to know him, the more you sense something beneath the surface that is toiling, broiling...
...just for you. Only you.
It feels more intense than anything else you’ve detected from him thus far, even moreso than his shyness.
He is doing a fair job keeping it under wraps, but your intuition knows and your body is responding in its own way. You feel your senses heighten with every move he makes. You smell the notes in his cologne much more clearly....bergamot, is it? Amber possibly?
You forget yourself, letting your gaze fix onto a crimson lock of his here, the leather of his eyepatch there…
“Lady _______,” he murmurs.
You flash your eyes up to his, realizing suddenly. You apologize, but he simply carries on, seemingly fighting away a smile and failing.
“Nothing to worry yourself over,” he assures.
As your carriage nears the Royal Gardens, you begin to hear the clamor of people outside and the spinning wheels of other carriages. With a satin-clad palm, you pull aside the carriage’s curtain to peer out onto the cobbled streets. Sure enough, carriages of all shapes and sizes ride along you both, all heading to the same place.
You feel a hand touch yours, and look down to see Julian’s waiting palm hover.
It is inappropriate to the courting etiquette, yet not the worst thing a suitor could do. It is also a promising sign.
You slip your satin across his leather, intertwining your fingers together gently. He clasps your hand in a reassuring squeeze, the breadth of him nearly swallowing your hand whole. His fingers are long, slender and warm.
You look to him, wondering what brought this on.
“I thank you,” he answers without needing question, “for giving me not only a mysterious adventure, but another evening with you.”
You smile, saying nothing. He should thank himself. You were impressed, attracted and most of all…interested. Julian is an interesting man, and he clearly finds you a woman of a similar manner of intrigue.
“What if I am carrying us to something you find displeasing?” you tease.
He answers easily. “You could take us to a pig sty on the edge of town and I wouldn’t mind a bit.”
You find his curtness and sincerity hilarious, chuckling before you can stop it.
“Goodness Doctor, you’ve quite lost yourself on me, haven’t you?”
“I have.” He brings your clasped hands to his lips, giving it a kiss while locking eyes with you. A repeat performance of yours from so many nights before.
You swallow, watching him press his lips to the skin of your glove before holding it to his chest. You cannot feel his heart through the many fine layers of his clothing, and yet you are certain it beats steady, whether slow or fast.
“Hmm,” he notes.
“Hmm?” you parrot.
“Have I finally found a way to render you without an answer? Surely not. You’re far too clever for that.”
You lean forward slowly, following your hand against his chest.
“Some do not like a ‘mouthy’ woman, no matter what status or background. Are you certain you want to encourage me in my games…?”
“Yes,”
“...Even if you lose?”
You feel the hand that is not clasping yours together drawing to the middle of your back, trailing towards the kinky nape of your neck.
“Even then.”
The door of the carriage begins to creak as the footman works it open, and you retreat back into your seat. Julian does not release your hand, and you do not fetch it from him. He exits into the street, the lights of the Royal Palace striking the black of his robes, before assisting you out.
Vesuvia’s Royal Palace is always a sight to behold, even to the upper echelon of the city. It’s tall white spires stretch into the heavens, domed by large Arabesque domes and arches. The crowning tops of the gardens can be spied even from outside the gates, a testament to how old, grand, and strong Vesuvia’s royal reign has lasted.
“The palace…” Julian notes oddly, his face quirking a bit.
“Yes,” you respond, curious.
“This is certainly unexpected.”
You detect he holds unfortunate history here perhaps, and that the sight of this place has struck it up once again in his mind. That is no fault of yours and he clearly does not mean to show it…he does not intend to question either, but you see it hanging in his eyes, unsaid.
‘Why here?’
You wink, trailing ahead whilst looking over your shoulder.
“You shall see.”
You see the memories in his eyes fall away as he beholds you once more. He tips on his hat, drawing near with a billow of cloak.
Whatever has a hold of his thoughts here, you will wipe the slate of his mind clean and write anew. He will be consumed by you, soon enough.
That is what you think as you draw together, walking through the crowds of guests up the palace steps and past the billowing lights and lanterns. Servants race out of sight to prepare them all in time for the release later tonight, despite the dizzying amounts of lanterns already everywhere within the castle and on the grounds.
“It seems like a fire hazard…” you note vaguely, watching a young woman light a lantern.
“Magic,” Julian notes. “They use it to keep flames at bay from the castle itself.”
You look to him, curious.
“How do you know…?”
He opens his mouth before you’re both interrupted by a plethora of voices.
“Julian?”
You turn, spying Portia the jeweler and Muriel. They stroll by, hand in hand.
“Lady _______?”
“Sister?” Julian inquires.
“Sister?” you repeat, stunned.
How...awkward.
The crowd suddenly swarms you all within the ballroom, trumpets blaring and chandeliers roaring even brighter than before. Feathers and snowflakes magically rain down upon you all as the Count and Countess...Nadia and Lucio...enter the hall. They are settled a reasonable distance between one another but remain looking better than ever.
They both scan the applauding crowds, smiling and waving politely. You see their eyes find you almost simultaneously, locking onto you for a moment too long. You look away only to spy several other familiar faces as you gaze along.
You stiffen a bit in the crowd, wondering however things could have converged to a knife’s point like this...?
You anticipated your past courters to be here, yes. It was only sensible. Certainly Nadia and Lucio. But almost all of your past courting inquirers are here…!
Hi pearls! ✨ I got the best news today! In light of this celebratory time, please expect an update later this evening if not tomorrow morning! Thank you everyone for your kind words and sweetness. Shine on! 💎
Hey😊I just wanted to say thank you for putting out this amazing content. I have been going through a very rough time but reading your stuff has made me feel so much better and now I'm addicted🤭. Once again thank you and don't forget to drink your water 🌠
You’re very welcome! I’m sorry to hear you’ve been having a tough time, but hang in there and believe in better things. The universe is too big for them not to happen. I’m kind of happy I’ve addicted you, stay on this wild ride with me! I’ll stay hydrated 😚🌸 thank you for thinking of me!
Well you spoiled me with your content. I find it hard to immerse myself in most reader fanfics since they usually don’t take black features into account. You’re one of the few writers that write black people well and don’t make overblown stereotypes of the character. Thank you so much for the beautiful content. ❤️❤️❤️
I’m very glad: that was my intention! Black women deserve love and romance we can fully immerse in and enjoy. I deserve lovely stories, you deserve lovely stories, we all deserve them! I myself was sick of reading black women characters that were stereotypes, minstrels, caricatures but not characters. Not people.
At the end of the day, color is a non-factor, a simple visual signifier…but societies worldwide make it out to be so much more than it actually is (ie. she’s black so she must do this, say this, think this, speak like this, avoid this, look like this etc) LOL it’s a skin color not a personality. Not a person. People so often forget that black women are just that…people. People who are different from one another, who hold different ideas, who feel different things, and who have different dreams. We can have the same things as anyone else. We can have better, that’s the one that really kicks their teeth in to see. And we don’t have to apologize for it. We don’t have to share. It doesn’t seem like a hard ask when you think about it but since I couldn’t find anyone else to do it the way I could, I showed up. Stay a while, won’t you? 💋
Alucard has found you in the depths of his castle. You spend the night outside the castle together, and you bear witness to a few more of your host’s supernatural abilities. You learn more about him, about his life, and he learns of you. You’re both opening up...but what secrets remain? And are you ready to learn those too, under the light of the moon? Or will the shadows swallow you back up...?
You imagined Alucard’s return to his form to be something macabre and anatomical, full of moving muscle and crunching bones.
His change back is more like a whisper in the night. Something that is a part of him and not a gruesome, forced curse. Something inherent. Natural.
‘Supernatural.’
He looks to you then, his eyes just the same as they had been when he wore the skull of a wolf instead of that of a man’s.
“You shouldn’t wander,” he says simply, as if nothing has happened. Perhaps to him, nothing had. Another uneventful night in his mind, surely, you guess.
You nod, unsure whether to thank him for finding you deep in the castle’s nooks, or whether you should keep your silence and your grudge over his treatment of you the past few days.
You decide that the night’s events have made you rather tired and that you don’t possess much more energy for anger. Perhaps tomorrow.
“Thank you. For finding me,” you attempt to salvage.
“Always,” Alucard murmurs, before moving away and turning his head to see if you’ll follow.
You do. You feel yourself wonder at his choice of words just now, but smother the feeling.
‘No more investigating every little word or thought. I’m tired...’
You try to keep a respectable distance, yet you note that Alucard slows his pace until he is at your side. His eyes look ahead yet his expression is concerned, and he seems to be struggling with something.
“Earlier, I...” he sighs. “It seems that I keep finding myself in situations where I owe you an apology.”
“Yes. Well.” You don’t try to put on airs. As nice as it is to have someone apologize to you these days, it’d sooner be more pleasant to see action behind such words.
The road held its stories. Anyone could say anything. Never did that make it true.
You learned that the hard way.
“I am sorry,” Alucard states. “I often forget that how I partake in solitude and how I behave with others must differ. Another excuse, yes. Yet it truly is...too easy to forget.”
You shrug. You suppose that if you were a half-vampire holed away for God knows how long...you’d lack certain manners too.
“Does it make you...resentful…? That you must treat a human like me so carefully?”
Alucard shakes his head, looking straight down the dark corridor.
“No. It makes me…remember.”
‘Remember?’
“Remember what?” you ask.
Alucard’s face really shadows over then, and you find yourself realizing that as forlorn and cold as he’s looked since your stay, you have never seen him quite this sad.
“My friends,” he breathes, before turning on his heel and continuing down the corridor.
‘Friends,’ you think to yourself. ‘I never stopped to wonder about his friends. Family, yes. Enemies, certainly. Acquaintances, trysts, lovers perhaps…but never friends.’
“Even creatures of the night have friends,” he jests coolly, but there is truth in it.
You smile, drawing nearer as his steps slow from their hurried pace. He has seemed to remember himself. “You are no creature of the night, just lousy at waking early. And of course you’d have friends. Of course.”
“Of course?” His brow lifts.
“Well yes. Everyone has friends.”
“What about you then? Your friends.”
You pause, finding yourself taken aback.
What about you? What about your friends?
You’ve met them over the years on the road. Acquaintances, interests…and yes, even friends. But they never stayed. And neither did you. No addresses to pen to. No pigeons to send off. No magic mirrors of legend.
Just you.
“I suppose…I had them. Before.”
Alucard looks at you then, really looks at you. Then he gives you the saddest smile.
“How lonely.”
You do not know whether to be insulted or to cry. It was lonely. It is lonely.
Perhaps that’s why you fight so hard for attention now that you have something more permanent, more stable...? But you’re not sure how kindly you take that comment coming from someone who lived in a castle vast enough to house entire cities and yet held no one but himself. If anyone should be lonely, it would be Alucard, right...?
...Right?
You look at your skirts and the floor, thinking.
It was so easy for you to see his loneliness. His solitude wrapped around him like a cloak.
Yours? That was much harder. You hid it. And you smiled, and you said all the right things, but there it was. There it remained.
And perhaps there it would stay, no matter how many towns you went to or sights you saw. No matter how many things you pried out of your host who was clearly not used to company.
You were afraid you would...always be alone. In the middle of the woods, in a crowded room, none of it mattered it seemed.
And it felt like Alucard was looking straight into the heart of it, feeling awfully sorry for you. Maybe more sorry than you’d ever taken the time to feel for yourself.
You feel yourself leaning towards being upset when Alucard moves toward you, drawing your attention.
“It's dark outside and creatures roam, but...the moon is bright and I am here. We could see the garden. Unless you’re ready to retire for the night...?”
You find your eyes widening in pleasure, your heart vibrating with anticipation. A garden hardly holds up to all the wondrous things you’ve seen on your travels, but after a measurable time in the castle exploring its brickways and hidden delights (and horrors), you are ready for some fresh air that is not from a precipitous balcony.
“I want to see...but perhaps you’re right. I hardly think I could make it all the way out there and back as tired as I am.”
You feel yourself wilt at the thought that you will miss out on the outing you’d been hoping for. You had to be realistic with yourself, though. Traipsing these grounds was no cakewalk.
“There is a way.”
You perk up at that. “A secret passageway?”
“No. Well, probably, but no. There is a faster way.”
Alucard comes closer then, peering down at you. You can feel his presence rolling off of him, you can see the tight knitting in his thread-wear. You can even scent his cologne, something deep and dark and old.
“Are you afraid of bats?”
───────────━┿──┿━──────────
Alucard possesses many supernatural gifts. This, you learn tonight.
The white wolf had been illuminating enough. But now, as you are shrouded in darkness, hearing nothing but the sound of flapping and the feeling of thin-skinned wings touching you lightly all over, you wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.
When the bats clear and your vision goes from total blackness to the vast night sky, you realize that you stand on solid ground now instead of shapeless, shifting swathes of night flyers.
The cloud of bats is silent save for flapping, with not a shrill or scream to be heard. The mass unfolds from around you, disappearing to the edges of your vision and recollecting out of sight with only sound to signify.
It happens so quickly, that by the time you are turning to follow the mist of the bats, you hear something that sounds akin to a whirlpool closing in on itself rapidly; you watch with wide eyes as the bats gather together, glowing in a red unshapely blob, before snapping into the image of a man. The last things to fade from the red glow into visceral reality are his eyes.
His gaze appears tinted with humor at your clear astonishment from the whole endeavor.
“See? Faster.”
“I...yes.”
“Did it hurt?” he asked. He stepped away and waited, and soon enough you realized he was leading you once again.
“No. It was odd, if anything.” You think it is a funny question, as you are sure he took the consideration to ensure that the journey didn’t hurt or startle.
You stay close, eyes widening as you spy where he was leading you.
The garden.
The same garden you had spotted so long ago on your way into this place. It is not as blooming as before, the soil covered in pine needles, foliage, and some areas with tarp.
“Ah, you prepared it well,” you note. “You do this before every winter season?”
“Not as thoroughly,” Alucard says, observing the state of the garden. “Usually I let most of them die and sprout unaided in the spring. Only this season did I harvest and prepare.”
“Why?” you wonder.
Alucard looks at you then, and suddenly you realize.
‘Because of me.’
Because of you...you who is wholly flesh and bone, you, a human, you who needs sustenance and warmth and care during the winter months...You are not supernatural like him, and you cannot last like him. This much he understands. He seemed to have taken the prospect seriously by doing all of this work.
You find yourself speechless. A nervous hand of yours draws to the tight curls on the nape of your neck, detangling them anxiously.
“I...thank you for thinking of me. I had...no idea.”
Alucard nods almost imperceptibly before kneeling down towards the drying garden bed, sifting leather-clad fingers through the dirt.
You follow after, the night’s dew glistening back the moonlight and softly dampening the edges of your dress.
The air is cooling, you realize. You find yourself gasping outside of your control.
“Ah—”
A sudden shiver runs up your body. Winter is upon you and the air’s chill only hints at that fact further.
You feel movement by you and you wrap your hands tightly around your kneeled form, forcing a chuckle through the tremors.
“The chill out here is something else, isn’t it?”
You feel it then.
A large, heavy cowl is laid over your shoulders, covering your frame entirely. You freeze, feeling the warmth emanating off of it. It smells deeply of the smoky scent you associate with...Alucard.
You turn and catch his gaze, set aback. He eyes lower to the lapels, and he angles towards the front of you so that he may draw the clasps closed, covering you completely. He begins to slowly stand, and as if in a trance, you stand with him; perhaps an unsuspecting outsider would assume the two of you to be in a dark, pagan dance on this moonlit night in the woods. Finally fully upright, he fastens the final clasp closed, but his hands do not release you; instead, they trace back to the collar and draw it together firmly, making the coat feel that much closer to your skin.
He has never met your gaze this long. He has never stood this close.
His amber eyes momentarily lower to the buttons, then the ground, and finally they lift to take you in once more.
“I’ve been careless.” The admission is low, almost like a whisper, despite the night’s quiet and the chilled breeze overhead.
Careless? About what? The night air? The revealing of his numerous abilities? Something else entirely...?
You open your mouth to respond but cannot find the words. Alucard fills the silence for you both.
“You are human. And you need more than I cared to give.”
You feel your mouth part in surprise, unsure of what to say.
“I...I don’t understand.”
Alucard leans down then, equaling himself to your height.
“You will.”
You find your body drawing even closer to him, the gap between the two of you growing infinitesimally smaller. He is like stone, still but steady. Something low brims between the empty space, and you feel like something going to occur—
“!”
A long, shrill, almost-human scream cuts through the dark night.
You feel your heart drop to the sole of your shoes. It sounded bad. Very bad.
Alucard’s expression hardly shifts to the level of fear you currently feel, but you do spot a hardening in his look. Concern bleeds into his face as he turns over his shoulder, seemingly listening to something you can’t hear.
“We’d better be on our way then.”
You nod, eager to get out of there.
“Is that a…night creature?”
“Yes. You’ve met one already, I presume.”
You sigh, agreeing. “Ever since I stepped foot in Wallachia, unfortunately. This place seems to be crawling with them.”
Alucard nods, all-too knowing.
The scream comes again, and this time, it sounds far too close.
Alucard doesn’t look as bothered as you feel inside. You begin attempting to chat away the fear.
“They don’t go down easy. Well…” you eye him warily, his stature, his gaze. “...maybe not for me.”
Alucard smirks then, shrugging.
“It’s a bit late for a needless fight. Let’s go back.”
You nod, glad for the warmth from his coat. The scream arises again, and you jump this time. It sounds even closer. Maybe it sniffed you both out?
“Should we run?” You ask with a shake in your voice, hearing something hulking and hissing fighting through the trees on yonder.
You feel as though you’ll see some hellish beast any minute.
“Hold on.”
You feel a hand grab you round the waist, and before you know it, you’re in the air hovering like a bird in the sky. You don’t even have time to log the latest ability of your host that you’ve discovered because you’re too preoccupied with watching the ground fall away from you both.
You shriek, closing your eyes and tucking your face away from the dizzying heights into the nearest solid surface, Alucard’s lapels. You try to ignore that you’ve never been quite this close to Alucard, the tufts of his blouse rubbing against your eyelids and lips, the thick material of his jacket flapping near your ear in the wind. You can feel your own skirts tousle about in the air dangerously, but you don’t have the heart to reach down and keep them close to your thighs.
Luckily, Alucard is the sort of supernatural gentleman to consider such things; he wraps his other arm underneath your legs, tucking in your skirts tight in his grasp as you bend, now held like a bride or a child. It is not enough to make you pull away from the illusory safety of his bosom and see just how far the ground is now below you both.
You shake and wonder if he feels the tremors. Your question is answered once you feel his face lower to gaze at you assumedly, his chin grazing your scalp and settling there easily.
“Is this worse than the trip here?” He wondered aloud.
The noise you let out is far from proper and you feel yourself shaking harder from the thrill of being up so high. The bats had hidden the last trip from your sight. It hardly felt like you were moving! Now, however...? You could feel and see everything, with only Alucard as an anchor to hold. Clearly he was used to being a night bird, but you were not. Not yet.
“Don’t look, if it scares you,” Alucard advises before jetting you both off towards the castle.
───────────━┿──┿━──────────
That night at the table is quiet.
You requested a drink before retiring as the journey out into the night air has left you parched.
Alucard not only obliged, but sought to escort you to the kitchens. Even he seemed to understand the difference of mood in the castle at night compared to the day. His company is a welcomed circumstance.
You sit before one another at the place you last were not so long ago, where your argument took place only hours before.
The tension from that last talk seems to still have a hold on the setting, you and Alucard both choosing silence for the moment. Tea steams between you both, a pot full. Your cup is draining as you quench yourself, but Alucard’s is empty.
‘Is he not thirsty?’ you wonder.
“Alucard, aren’t you parched?” You gesture towards the tea but Alucard will look at nothing else in the room but you.
“You were right. Before.” he admits. “I do not take human blood. I can. But I won’t.”
You nod, letting him unveil himself to you.
“Why lie?”
He sighs heavily, wrangling with something.
“It is difficult to...learn others. Sometimes it feels as though it is for nothing. They all pass by so quickly.”
‘Pass by? What does that mean?’
“Well, traveler I may be, I am here to stay for as long as you’ll have me. I like it here. I hoped I wasn’t burdening you.”
Alucard seems to soothe at that, his shoulders lowering a fraction and his brow easing.
“No. Nothing of the sort.”
You nod then, feeling like you’re both back where you started in a sense. He wants you there, you want to be there, but his actions say a different story at times and it confuses you. At least one thing is settled...
“Why won’t you drink blood if it is beneficial for you?”
He looks shocked then; not that you asked seemingly, but at the way you asked. You wonder if he expected a more angered response from your end towards his vampirism. If he expected disgust. But you know who you look at and where you are. You may not know exactly who Alucard is, but you know what he is. Half a man, half a vampire, and more things beyond either category entirely.
Those other things are more interesting to you anyway.
Learning what Alucard is was an old task. Learning who he is will be the challenge. As will it be for him to learn of you.
He considers your question for a moment and you almost believe he will not answer it, not until he begins to speak.
“My father...”
You know not if your eyes play tricks on you, but the room almost seems to darken. The candles lower and the fireplace hushes its crackling.
Even dead, the castle remembers its owner.
Alucard presses on.
“...he drank before. I was not alive to see it. But I know. He ceased the drinking once he met my mother. He was strong enough to go without it, as moral as one such as himself could manage. Stories may say otherwise, but I know this to be true. They were content for many years. After her loss, he drank once again. Insurmountably. None of it quenched him. None of it was enough.”
You feel your face fall. His eyes, as gold as they are...they look so empty right now.
“I will not drink. Not that.”
You sit back, thinking to yourself. Alucard has shared quite a large piece of himself that he keeps hidden away. Even speaking it seemed to cause him pain. And you wonder to yourself as a human woman, what kind of existence it is to be permanently at odds with yourself...your nature singing for one thing, your morality reaching for another. Always at odds, always in a tension.
You see it in Alucard, who you know now to be good. Maybe not open, maybe not the most considerate, but good. And in someone like Dracula, you wonder what kind of person Alucard’s mother was to make such a notoriously cruel creature...a powerful creature... put himself at odds with his own nature like that for her sake. And find happiness in it?
“I understand better now. Your mother must have been a unique person, Alucard.”
Alucard nods, eyes to the table, searching through memories only seen to him.
“She was.”
It is quiet for a moment, the silence comfortable. Then something seems to spark in Alucard’s eyes before he lifts his gaze to you, curious.
“What of your mother?”
You feel yourself freeze.
‘What?’
“I...” you begin, searching. “We were not close. My story is not so interesting. I will tell you about it on a different night.”
Alucard’s warm look melts away at your expression, and you quickly clear it up to avoid further investigation.
‘You madame, are a hypocrite...but for right now, I can live with that.’
Sensing your discomfort, Alucard nods to the window.
“The morning sun will rise anytime now. We’ve spent the night out and about, and you will tire soon. Even if it is a late morning for us both...”
You watch him, curious as to where he intends to go with this.
“...Yes?”
“...Would you accompany me to the garden once more after resting? There are some final portions of harvest that will not fit in storage. I sought to head into a different town to give them away or to trade.”
Alucard would not need the help of his visitor to sell a few vegetables on the road. He probably wouldn’t go through the trouble of selling any and just compost or dispose of it all, if not for you.
‘So he meant his apology. He is not annoyed by my presence. He desires it. And he seeks to prove it.’
You smile then, plucking up the teapot from between you two and pouring into his cup.
“I’d be happy to come along. And since we have a long day ahead of us, I insist you sustain yourself.”
You fill his cup and it steams. Pulling away, you gesture at the tea.
“Just because you do not drink blood does not mean that you do not drink at all,” you tease. “And perhaps in town we’ll find cider or ale at this time of year. Do you drink spirits, or is that off-limits also?”
Alucard shakes his head and smirks, his sharp fangs in clear view but his pleasure even more so. It sends a hair-raising thrill through you, and you bring your legs together under the wooden table. You hope he does not see, but you are not so sure; he lifts the cup of tea to his lips, gazing at you.
“I think I’ll manage.”
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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.
Alucard has been keeping you at arm’s length, and the tension it’s causing is coming to a head. Your host is still a supernatural creature of the night, but you have little patience for being left in the dark. You face off with your host, realizing that you’ve been falling faster and harder than you ever intended to...
As the days wear on and autumn’s bite begins to linger in between the scents of the summer, you spend the week watching Alucard prepare the castle for the cold months to come.
Some preparations take him deep into the stone hallways where even you and your prying eyes cannot always follow.
You’ve been here for weeks now, and have yet to see even half of the castle’s entirety, despite daily explorations. You’re beginning to find your way around with the little that you do recognize, and it pleases you to make a more familiar place out of Alucard’s home every day. Each day that passes where you don’t find something frightening around a corner is simply another day where you can relax just a bit more in the grand fortress.
You spy Alucard one day, heading off to another location unbeknownst to you. You hesitate before finally calling out to him, suddenly realizing that the annoyance of going hours if not days without your host is getting to you.
“Where are you going?”
“Never you mind,” he responds easily, continuing on.
“More preparations?”
“Something of the sort.”
“Could I be of any help?”
Alucard looks at you then, thinking quietly for a beat before answering.
“Certainly. In the library, if you’d like. You haven’t finished ‘The Regalia of the Fourth Centurion’ yet, have you?”
You pause, taken aback a bit. His flat redirection that normally would’ve irritated you instead turned into something else entirely in your mind. His library is infinitely large and it would take a steady, trained, focused attention to not only notice what you read in there, but to recall whether or not you had completed it.
He is watching you when you cannot see. And taking notes, it seems.
“You keep track?” you ask bluntly.
Alucard seems to remember himself before turning with a rush of cloak and walking away.
You watch him leave, left behind in the darkening corridor.
Sometimes, you wonder if it’s really seasonal changes he plans when he wanders into the deep hallways, or if it’s just that he knows not what to say to his new, long-term guest.
“He must not have had many guests before,” you wonder quietly to yourself, watching the shadows climb.
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You prepare breakfast and dinner nightly. It seems to temper Alucard’s melancholic mood as the days stretch on, and only then can you speak together with some more breadth to the conversation besides the meals, the horses or the gardens which you’ve yet to see. Alucard is continuously too busy to show you around it seems, and you are too nervous to venture out alone. Alucard says there are monsters about, and you believe him. He shares bits and pieces of his knowledge, his past encounters in brief mentions or condensed tales. Despite his lack of detail, you can tell he knows so much more than what he says. The short stories are enough to draw intrigue and wonder.
Still, he is not always as revealing as you’d like.
You’ve spent ample time planning things in the perfect way to gather information on your host. Perhaps you’re a bit obsessed…But he is endlessly fascinating. And you feel the feeling is mutual, as he also uses subtle maneuvers to learn about your life and past.
You will give in when he does. Who is winning the battle, you’re not entirely sure.
You now know that he had a mother. You even know her name. But you do not know her, the kind of person she was or could’ve been. You only know that she is no longer here.
You know that he had a father. A legendarily cruel, powerful father, but a father nonetheless. You know who Dracula is to the outside world—a horror—but you are not so sure who Dracula is to Alucard.
Somehow, you feel that is what matters more to you.
You only tell as much to Alucard as he tells you. You feel like you don’t have much to hide, but you don’t have to give all your secrets away, now do you? Especially not to someone who won’t divulge theirs.
The task is mighty difficult. You find yourself wanting to spill your insides to him in the quiet evenings, warmed by kitchen firelight and gazing out into the night through gothic windows while Alucard sits nearby, staring into the embers of the fireplace.
You find yourself treading carefully, sometimes. You don’t want to, but…whenever you step too close to matters of the heart, Alucard fades away into the darkest hallways of the castle where no light can touch. He’ll never miss a mealtime with you, but he won’t stay if he feels his vulnerabilities being pulled out from his grasp. His shield is a strong one.
Stronger than yours, maybe.
It upsets you, for a bit. You can’t understand…why won’t he just trust you? You’ve done nothing to warrant all this trepidation. You even have an inkling of a feeling that Alucard…wants to trust you. You sense that he used to be the kind of person who shared things freely…why else would he have such a tight grip on it all now?
He’s been hurt, it seems.
But so have you. God knows you’ve been hurt in the past. And you’ve been trying, haven’t you? It was no walk in the park for you to lay your life in the hands of someone who once threatened it. You lived long enough to see his redemption, but that redemption only came about because you were open…and had little choice in the matter, at the time.
Can’t he do the same?
It all comes to a head, one night at dinner.
“I’d like to help you harvest and prepare the garden for winter,” you say into the quiet evening.
You want something more beyond strained lunches and dinners. You want…you want…well you’re not sure how to name it, or if you even can right now. But you simply understand that you require more than this.
‘Maybe I am greedy. But I can live with that.’
Alucard pauses amidst arranging his cutlery. He thinks before speaking.
“You’ve no need to worry yourself over that. This is enough.”
You frown, biting your lip.
You know he simply means that he doesn't want you overburdening yourself with unnecessary tasks, but you can’t help to feel…that he means these gatherings are enough. These scheduled, organized times. Drawn together by bodily functions of hunger and satiation, but leaving it at that. Nothing more, nothing less. That the surface is enough, that leaving your insecurities and curiosity to stand where they remain is enough.
“It is not enough.”
Alucard’s face seems to harden. He stands, pushing away.
“I see. And what more could you want? You have everything here. Food, shelter, oddities and distractions from ceiling to floor—”
“—I am not a child,” you say quietly against the condescension. “Do not speak to me as such!”
“Why the upset then? What is this really about?”
You can’t hold yourself back and blaze into him, angered by the fact that he would try to obfuscate the plain facts sitting before you both! “You hide away from me—”
“—I sit here before you—”
“—Goodness knows why, because outside of mealtimes I would think I was an immense pest to you—”
“—I dine with you—”
“—You take me for a fool—”
Alucard looks away and scoffs as if you’re a mere annoyance interrupting his day, but you follow his gaze, insisting. You know you’re right, you simply know! And if you leave things this way, well then that’s no good now is it?
“You watch when you think I’m not looking, but I know, and it’s...It’s as if…it’s as if you’re bursting to tell me something and you simply never do! Do you know how distressing that is? We can discuss things outside the premise of basic needs like hunger—”
“—Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” Alucard says, his voice odd. “I’m always hungry. And your food isn’t enough. You should be grateful for the berth I put between us, or else it’d be my teeth in your neck.”
It is like a weight has fallen through the floorboards, and you find yourself speechless.
Since that first day, Alucard never mentions his nature. And never has he threatened you with it.
Until now.
It is quiet for a long moment, and you can feel your chest rise against the lining of your bodice, the skin that the air touches, growing more sensitive by the second. You cannot lie, the skin on your throat tingles, and you can see his piercing eyes take in the sight before shifting back up to you. You look into them, seeking something, anything.
‘A lie. He is lying.’
It is a threat, no doubt. But he is bluffing. You can see it, clear as day. You’d believe it if his gaze held at your jugular, but his eyes keep flitting up to force an intimidation, to check if you see, if you’re afraid. He’s spinning stories.
Why…that is the question you do not know the answer to.
“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, your voice growing far more soft than you intended.
You can’t help but feel the hurt. He really doesn’t trust you, not after all this time.
Alucard’s eyes widen, and he seems suspended in shock as if he would’ve never expected you to see through the act.
You sigh and speak, looking at the wooden table.
“You do not take human blood. That much is clear.” You feel your fingers begin to tremor ever so slightly at your side and you shake it off. “You must take me for a fool if you thought that I would believe that horrible attempt at a rebuff, much less scare me away. Maybe I am a fool. I keep trying to...yet…”
You keep trying to draw him in, like a child. And he keeps pulling away. And here you are, upset and fussing, like a babe.
It’s embarrassing. It’s demeaning. You don’t want to beg for trust or affection—
‘Affection? Is that what I wanted?’
Oh no. You’re not going down that road.
Alucard looks caught then, opening his mouth to speak, but pausing.
“If you cannot stand to be near me,” you finish, putting down your napkin on the table, “there is no need to lie. I know how to excuse myself.”
You leave the table then, holding your posture strong until you’re through the doorway before drawing arms around yourself.
‘It isn’t enough. Am I desperate? Am I in too deep? He must know that, surely? Or perhaps..’
Maybe that didn’t go the way you planned….Maybe you were too direct? Maybe he was just dumb. Maybe you both were. Ugh.
Or maybe you were right from the start, and he didn’t want you around. Not truly.
But if that were so…why invite you to remain here in the first place?
It doesn’t make sense. Alucard probably does not despise you…but you’re not entirely sure at this point that he likes you, either.
…And you’re not certain when it began to matter to you so much.
You fist the soft fabric of your dress and dash through the halls, heading for your rooms.
You feel a fear rise in your throat.
Will this be your undoing?
For so, so long, you’d effectively trained yourself on how to not need others. How to not rely on them. You’d fallen through too many safety nets others had built shoddily and sworn would hold you up, you’d seen too many precious things smashed by those who promised to keep them safe for you, too many who promised to keep the bad luck out only to then open the doors of your life to blight and strife, letting them rattle in the wind.
You were your own protector, your own confidante, your own friend…
You were a woman who learned how to do everything…because no one else would.
Not for you.
You feel a whine try to work its way up your throat but you swallow it back, feeling frantic.
You couldn’t do this again. Growing another attachment that would only break something in you in the end anyway….You’d learned this so long ago…
…but then why were you feeling it now? When did that happen?
You were not this needy this quickly with others before. Never. So why him?
Maybe it had simply been too long since you’d had another human connection that was meant to…last longer than a quick trip through town? Somehow in your mind, permanence in this visit meant that now you could relax and be safe. You could now build relationships. Make friends. Go by another name rather than a passerby.
Only, the other person to do that with…? He didn’t seem up for the task. And that saddened you like nothing else. To finally be ready and be rejected, yet again.
‘Oh!’
After losing yourself in your thoughts, you find that you’ve gotten lost physically.
‘Where am I?’
The halls look unfamiliar now.
Had you not been paying close enough attention?
“Hello…?” You call out, listening to your voice rebound through the deep chassis of the hallway. Nothing echoes back.
“Alucard…?” You try, turning in circles to look at the shadows, hoping that his supernatural hearing overcomes the amount of distance you’ve just put between yourself and him.
The halls are silent as a tomb.
‘Looks like I’m in trouble.’
The tables have turned, and you know you’ve made a poor choice venturing this deep into the castle without paying attention. You’ve mapped quite a bit so far since the beginning of your stay, but you were not completely abreast of the monstrous place. To go too deep was to risk getting lost in a manner unknown to you before now.
The shadows rise on the walls as the sun lowers. The moon begins to rise, following the hours rolling by. Time seems to stretch ever onward and the silence only grows heavier and heavier.
You feel worry rising but do your best to suppress it, thinking of what to do. You’ve stayed put and yet help has not come of it. You may have to find your own way.
The dark is oppressing, and something in you feels as though the castle has changed, somehow.
Stepping forward, you pause, suddenly hearing something shift in the shadows.
“...” You open your mouth to call out, but instinct stops you.
The sound of something heavy and large draws near. You draw your back tight to the wall, knowing that it may not be enough to camouflage you from what comes this way.
You listen into the silence, watching the patch of moonlight that illuminates the pitch black hallway before you.
Something white, clawed, and large steps into the light.
“Oh!”
A wolf the color of the moon emerges, and you feel your jaw drop.
‘My!’
It draws near, impossibly large and sentient. It draws near in sure and steady steps, and you find yourself rooted to the spot.
“Easy boy…” you try in the softest voice you have, showing your empty palms up to the animal as if it’d do any good against a strong creature such as this. But you have to try. “I’m no threat, see? Easy…”
The wolf simply watches.
You see it then. Its eyes.
His eyes.
“I...Alucard?” you gasp.
The wolf huffs, stepping forward to push a soft, shiny wet nose into the flesh of your palm before brushing past you intentionally.
You turn to keep eyes on him then, following after with your skirts floundering around you.
“You…how…?”
The wolf continues onward, and you simply follow after in disbelief.
“I didn’t know you had different forms!”
Of course, he does not answer back. He likely can’t.
“Did you…can you turn back?”
No answer.
“Do you need assistance? Is this a curse?”
You lean down to press a kiss to Alucard’s forehead, ignoring the instinct to stay out of range of his sharp maw before standing back to wait patiently. When nothing happens except you learning that wolves can express confusion quite clearly, you hum to yourself and think.
A tug on your dress pulls you out of your thoughts and you look to see the white wolf release your skirts from it’s hold before padding ahead into the shadows.
It doesn’t take long for you to follow after, sweeping into the dark.
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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.
Hope you are well or at least doing better than yesterday and the days bbefore. The update to The Visitor was amazing! You've outdone yourself per usual and I commend you for it!🥰😊😘💙💙💙
📜 🖋 𝒞ourting with 𝒟r. 𝒟evorak (Julian x BlackReader) Pt.4
PART 4 SUMMARY:
You are a reputable, young beauty of means in Vesuvia, enjoying the winter courting season. An odd letter from an odd doctor finds its way to your door. You are on the final segment of your first date, dining in a lively establishment deep in Vesuvia’s snowy burrows.
You thought that the play could be the highlight of the evening.
The rest of the night still had to happen, of course, but that fact held little sway over your rising opinion of the performance before you.
The drama was entrenching; the plot thick and delightfully conflicted with emotions of all sorts interwoven into the fabric of it. The actors were riveting; their faces full of contortion, expression, and range. The costumes and set designs were otherworldly; everything from the smallest trim to the boldest detail was painstakingly planned and executed to perfection.
You found yourself very pleased with the choice of play Julian had picked. The story was a rollercoaster of intense love triangles and by the time the curtains drew to a close, you couldn’t help but stand and applaud with the rest of the audience in the atrium.
“Bravo, magnificent!” Julian cries out, impassioned and forgetting himself. His eyes shine with feeling and intrigue, a far cry from the nervous man you’d met only hours before.
It is a sight to see him fill with energy like that over the theater. He seems to be an even bigger fan of it than you are. Perhaps that is why he was there at the theater, that fateful day when he first laid eyes on you...?
You call out approval and join him in his reverie, singing your own praises to the actors bowing below. They look into the audience past the bouquets of roses and flowers being thrown onto the stage, and for a moment, you even make eye contact with one of the younger, upstart actors. You are gifted a sly wink before the actor turns back to the crowd, bowing again and again.
As the theater lights come back on and the crowd compiles together amongst themselves down below between the aisles, you turn to face your date in the private box.
“Some show, right?” Julian beams, watching the crowds disperse towards the exits. There is still enough people inside that the hubbub nearly drowns both of your voices out.
“Yes,” you agree. “What a twist, at the end.”
“I know, right?” Julian nods, looking off into the distance, deep in his memories. “I couldn’t have ever predicted it.”
You raise your binoculars to your eyes, spying on the passerby below. As you rove over the many faces, you speak to your date casually.
“I think you are a drama enthusiast like me. You enjoy plays very much?”
Julian’s voice bounces back with vigor.
“Certainly. Good ones, especially. I used to attend the smaller local ones, once upon a time. I am glad we share that interest. I noted your interest during the finale.”
Your brows lift, but you do not take your eyes from behind the binoculars.
“Yes, it was very good. I am surprised you are not a thespian yourself, Julian.”
He sighs softly, and you can almost feel him nodding next to you.
“I…I was, once. I decided to pursue a different passion that I held a bit more talent for. Medicine. But…we all live many lives, don’t we?”
You look to him and think of yourself, and all the lives you’ve lived up until now.
“We do,” you agree. “See, your theory is proven. Take a look.”
You slide over the binoculars and watch as Julian peers down into the crowd for himself. A smirk plays at his lips and you find yourself mirroring it. You both begin to share insights on the crowd below, leaning in close together against the banister and passing the binoculars back and forth between yourselves.
“Goodness, that fur looks ravishing on her!”
“So ‘ravishing’ that the fox could hop off her shoulders and run away, if I didn’t know any better!”
You laugh, doing poorly to hide your teeth behind your gloved hand. Julian smiles wider, clearly happy to have won humor from you. He carries on with the silliest of impressions based on the unsuspecting people below and you can hardly contain yourself, noticeably drawing some looks as both of your joy echoes around the emptying atrium.
A group of posh gentleman look up at you both in annoyance, and Julian and you retreat from the banister out of sight into your theater box. Giving each other a knowing grin, you both gather your belongings and carry yourselves out of the box with decorum and grace.
“We’re decent folk,” Julian jests, loud enough for only your ears as you both step over the velevet carpet of the theater. “Us? Bothering the well-to-do? Making charades of their lives? Impossible. I am a doctor, not a clown.”
You giggle at his antics, shaking your head.
“And I, sir, am a lady. I do not associate with such poor manner.”
“Quite!”
“Well…only sometimes, when I am with doctors.”
Julian chuckles himself, his smile widening. To anyone else, you both would seem as if you’re engaging in normal conversation expected to come from two of the upper crust attendees.
Only you know better.
Together, the two of you joke and laugh all the way out of the theater and to carriage waiting outside. Once you leave the breadth of the theater’s shelter, the winter chill grips you and you realize snow has begun to fall once more. The sun has long hidden away and the night stars twinkle above.
Julian pulls you closer, and hurries his steps to the carriage. You shiver as you take in his warmth, letting him draw you.
“After you, Lady _________,” Julian states formally, opening the door and offering a gloved hand to help you in.
You pause momentarily, looking from his hand and back to him. You glance around at all of the people drawing to their own carriages and horses. Many of them are with their partners and families, laughing and arguing and regaling tales of times from long ago.
You look back into Julian’s face, wondering if he will be at your side like that one day. It is a moment too soon to wonder on, yes.
But the wonder remains.
He looks back to you with a note of concern before you soothe it away with a nod and carry yourself into the carriage. He follows in soon after, with a resounding shut of the door, blocking away all outside noise and chill.
The restaurant he ends up taking you to is splendid. You can see the dazzling lights coming from within the dull building before the carriage even pulls to a full stop outside the establishment. The outside is nothing to write home about, but you’ve found in your time as a lady that some of the best places are well-hidden in mediocrity.
Julian seems to understand a similar concept.
“You’ll like it! Trust me,” he assures.
“I’m sure I will,” you agree. “I’ve liked everything else so far. I trust you.”
Those words seem to throw Julian off momentarily, as if he is not quite sure what to say or think.
“Well-I…well then!” He surmises, turning away with a finger pulling at his collar and a funny look.
He escorts you both into the restaurant. You are taken aback by the boisterous manner of the patrons inside. They are dressed well and are dining fine, but they are laughing louder than any crowds you’ve mingled in before and some are even dancing out in what looks like a dance floor.
Waiters rush past with heavy trays, topped in silver domes and bright drinks. A host gestures you and your escort through the fray, before greeting you and seating you.
‘Reservations yet again, you note to yourself pleasantly. The doctor is a meticulous man when he desires it, you think. How long has he been planning this evening, you wonder?
Following after the server host, Julian guides you through the tables and diners to your own table, lit by chandelier’s gleam and candlelight. You seat yourself after he pulls out your chair.
You both put in your order with the attentive waiter before turning to one another, taking it all in.
“It’s energetic here,” you begin.
“If that’s code for, ‘so loud that I we can barely hear each other’, then you’d be right!”
You chuckle, shrugging your shoulders. That wasn’t too far off the mark, but you liked the atmosphere. Your home and the places you roamed often held far more reservedness, so it was nice to be in a partying kind of place for once.
“Well, it’s definitely that. Is it always this way?”
“Usually! It used to a smaller affair. But the owner has done well over the years. Now anyone can come and have a good time. This used to be a rougher part of town, believe it or not. But the people never were. Just their circumstances. With a little finagling of political allies, and a few investments to infrastructure…this place thrives now. It’s better now that there’s more opportunity. Sometimes I don’t know if I miss the rough and tough days more, though. More fun that way.”
He winks, looking away to the crowds.
‘Rough and tough is more fun, hm? This one has an interesting story to tell, I’ll bet. And I wonder if that applies elsewhere...’
You are pulled out of your thoughts once you catch Julian staring intensely at you. He seemed to have thought you wouldn’t look his way and had been taking full advantage ogling you until he realized suddenly, and turned away. He turns back not even seconds later, clearly wanting to say something, but stuck on you.
‘Funny man.’
You almost speak until Julian beats you to the chase.
“Are you enjoying yourself? Tired, perhaps? It is no concern at all if you would like to draw the night to a close. I’m aware I packed in quite a bit into our first engagement. I just...erh...I want you to enjoy our time together. I’d like it very much if you remembered this night...”
‘...Or me,’ is left unsaid. But both of you seem to hear it loud and clear.
“I do not wish to retire,” you say. “I am content here with you.”
Julian smiles.
“Good.”
He begins to inquire about you, your likes, your dislikes, your past, your aspirations. You find the conversation flowing easily, and there is less pressure to answer as Julian clearly knows how to embellish humility in order to take the focus off of whoever he’s talking to. It’s easier to tell him something of a more sensitive nature when he's being vulnerable, himself.
You think to yourself as you converse.
Julian has taken you to a restaurant that he’s spent much time in before, it seems. He’s taken you to a theater he’s spent much time in. He’s taken you to a medical gala that he’s likely attended in a similar essence prior. All these places are pieces of him in a way, and yet he made sure that with each event, he attempted to upscale the experience for something to your liking. Julian is no lord, yet he knew he was dealing with a lady, and acted accordingly, even if his choices weren’t what some would call choices of propriety.
It’s not that you sought lavish things from him, necessarily, though those were certainly nice and of no harm. It’s how…he blended the two. How he blended what you may like and what he may like. It’s his clear consideration for you that shows throughout the evening.
You enjoyed that he wanted to show pieces of himself to you while still thinking of you. You liked how attentive and thoughtful he had been today. He was well-mannered, initiative, conversational, of good humor, and so on.
‘I would like to see him again,’ you decide resolutely. Of course, you had already known this back when you first laid eyes on him in your foyer. Yet after spending time with him, the desire has only cemented itself further in you.
You leave your thoughts and begin to observe the dancing and live band across the room, smiling at all the joy.
Julian notices, smirking.
“You dance?” he asks.
You glance over at him, a little awed. He’s such a tall, broad fellow. You find it hard to picture him dancing at all.
“Do you?”
He nods to the side.
“I can show you better than I could tell you.”
“Well in that case,” you say, setting aside your things. “let's see your best!”
Julian watches you stand before smiling, taking your hand, and leading you onto the dance floor.
Plenty of dishes, steps, laughs, and locked gazes later, you are finally home in front of your abode.
Julian helps you out of the carriage, his hair in a flurry underneath his hat from all the dancing. You’re certain you haven’t fared much better, indulging in the vigor yourself back at the restaurant.
That hadn’t been the only thing that worked you up, either. Julian’s hands glancing off your body, his eyes piercing into you, the warmth of the collective crowds surrounding you and pressing you close...
...For a moment, you thought he might kiss you on the dance floor.
You feel a similar inkling now, watching him on your grand steps as you both stand before the door. He is watching you watch him, and time seems to hold under the soft, snowy sky.
‘Could I chance it?’
You look around. The carriage driver pretends to busy himself with fixing the horses’ saddles, and you pretend you didn’t notice one of your servants peeking through the curtains only to dash away in a flash.
‘Ugh. Maybe propriety and proper manner can be forgotten, just this once.’
As you fight to decide on what to do, Julian offers a hand and you grace him your own. He lifts your knuckles to his lips and kisses them smoothly before releasing you gently.
“May I have your favor, Lady ______?” he asks.
‘Ah, so he will do it the gentleman’s way.’
That saved you some trouble of deciding whether or not to have him take you away in his carriage into the night, away from good manner and courting ritual.
“You may,” you respond.
You reach to your bosom and pull out your engraved, courting handkerchief which had yet to see the light of day...until now. You hand it to Julian, and he neatly folds it with barely contained pleasure before placing it in the breast pocket of his jacket.
Now he knew your intentions, and you knew his.
“I will call for you again,” he says. It is not a question this time, it is not wavering. He seems to have found his nerve tonight, receiving your favor. Maybe it was the dancing. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the favor.
Or maybe, it was the moment?
“I will answer,” you say softly. It is not a lie.
Julian slides off his glove, raising the hand you had kissed only hours before. Your mark is still there, and there it remains as he brings it to his own lips. His eyes closed for a moment. The night is silent save for snowfall as he just holds the stance before finally lowering his hand and re-gloving it as if nothing had happened.
He knows he cannot have a kiss tonight. Not if he wants to honor you and the process. Yet, he knows you desire it. And you’ve both found your own, private way to rectify the dilemma.
“I look forward to our correspondence,” he promises. “Keep warm tonight.” The words are formal, but there is something tight and wound up in the tone that makes the hair on your skin stand at attention in the most delicious way.
You let your eyes drag up his frame from the soles of his shoes to the tip of his head before locking eyes with him.
“I surely will. If I can’t manage, well...perhaps I could send for a professional like you to do a house call?” you inquire subtly. You turn and ignore the undignified sound he makes, stepping through your doorway.
“Goodnight, Doctor!”
You close the door without a second glance and smile, sashaying all the way up to your rooms.
If anyone’s having the last laugh, it’s you. You’re looking forward to your future courting.
