Op you’re a genius i had to write something for this immediately, i hope it does your idea justice :)
Owen wasn’t angry. He wasn’t upset. And he certainly wasn’t jealous.
He knew next to nothing about any of these people. He could never equate the tall, blue-haired man to Louis, no matter his lack of reflection in the shards of a mirror on the floor of one of the crumbling houses, or the subtle way his butler would wave his hand or tilt his head upon entrance to someone's home, allowing the vampire to pass through the threshold. He could never be the same as Louis, because Louis was a kind man, the only bright spot in his two hundred twenty-five years of darkness, and look what humanity had done to him— snuffed it out.
And it certainly wasn't fair to compare the butler, with his freshly ironed clothes and perfectly slicked hair and even, painless gait, to himself some two hundred years ago, no matter the way he trailed after the vampire— Goldsmith; it rang a bell, though Owen wasn't quite sure why— with his heart in his hands, looked at him with the sort of devotion Owen had assumed was reserved exclusively for himself, for Louis. For the only one deserving of it.
Was the butler a thrall? Owen mused. Surely he had to be. It should have only added to the differences between the man and himself— Louis never would have considered such a thing— but only served to further pique his curiosity.
He wasn't jealous. Not at all.
But he'd found himself trailing after the pair for much of the week, and from his observations, the butler didn't seem naive, or misled. He wondered if the man knew they were doomed— that there was no such thing as a happily ever after for a relationship such as that; the universe would make sure of it. Owen had learned the hard way.
Eventually, somehow, he'd ended up alone in a crypt with the butler— Abolish— on some fruitless search for magical books. Owen's head ached, and his stomach cramped; he hadn't managed to drink anything but a few chickens since waking up, and the blood of nearly three thousand people didn't last nearly as long as he would have liked. Briefly, he considered turning Abolish, just out of spite— the man was cornered, he was off his guard, it would be so easy— but ultimately decided against it. Vampires could be territorial, and Scott, even while blending in, carried himself with an air of millennia exclusive to elder vampires. There was no reason to pick a fight. Besides, Owen was perfectly capable of making civil conversation.
He cleared his throat, wincing as the sound echoed throughout the cavernous space. "So, you're Scott's butler?"
Abolish nodded, turning away from the chest. "Yep. This one's empty, too."
"Oh, alright. Well, it's getting kind of dark. We should head back soon anyway."
They left the tomb, climbing down the stairs to the monument. "How long have you been working for him?"
"Since I was… eighteen, I think?" Abolish shrugged. "He's a good boss. Pays me well, lets me stay on at his manor."
Owen's head tilted. "Oh, where are you guys from?"
He had to give him credit— Abolish was a remarkably good liar for a human. He gave no hesitation, his heart rate picking up only the slightest bit of speed. Had Owen not been paying attention, it could very easily have been missed, or written off as a fluke. "Oh, a pretty long way north of here. You probably haven't heard of the town."
Owen hummed, allowing them to walk in silence for a moment. "Have you seen the castle close to the town?"
Owen feigned confusion. "You didn't take the bridge in front of the castle to get over the river? Which direction did you two come from, again?"
Abolish studied him, his face expressionless. "You seem to know the area well."
"The castle seems in exceptionally good shape, doesn't it?" Owen mused, the pieces finally fitting together in his head. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. "Especially when you consider the town's state of disrepair. It's almost like someone's been looking after it, all those centuries."
They were nearly at the town gates. Abolish's pace slowed. "What's your point?”
"Abolish?" Scott called from somewhere inside the town walls.
He'd heard rumors as a boy— of a long line of Goldsmith vampires buried around the town, waiting for the right moment to rise. He'd written them off as children's stories, old wives' tales.
After hundreds of years of waiting, Abolish got his sire back.
Owen curled his hands into fists, dullened claws biting into his palms. He watched as Abolish strode over to Scott with even, painless steps, his ironed jacket untouched by the slight breeze as the pair slipped back into easy banter.
Louis would never wake up.
Vampires and humans could never have happy endings. The people of Oakhurst had made that abundantly clear.
Now Owen just had to make sure Abolish knew it, too.
