count-v-dracula:
Grieving, or perhaps more like reflection had taken residence in his mind prior to the arrival of this graceful creature. Already, she was a welcome ray of light he would gladly bathe in, a light purer than the sun she was where crumbling into ash could not occur. He remained silent as she pleaded, those red eyes of his securing on the blush which spilled like ink on her cheeks, a delicious shade like sun-ripened berries.
The white-haired figure took two careful steps closer, a congenial grin alighting his matured face as she elaborated on her sleeplessness. “I find the practice of attending our troubles by the sea is the best treatment.” The elder gestured an arm behind him towards the bench he previously found rest on. “Shall we two restless souls find respite from the torments our minds devise for us near the cleansing tide? I think we will not be disturbed by them,” he cast a glance at the graveyard before returning his eyes to Mina’s. “I bear no ill-will…” the Count continued, placing a vowing hand across his chest. The smile having spread wider revealed just the tips of his teeth. His behavior was attributed to his old world self, polite and well bred, and to that of his more sinister intentions for this seabound land.
“Tell me of your troubles…?” His voice wandered upward in search for her name despite him knowing her all too well.
Wariness plagued Mina’s eyes at the gentleman’s tentative steps towards her. Truly, he seemed nothing more than a kind old man who had come to seek solace from his thoughts in the crash of the waves and the hiss of the sea foam upon the cliff. Yet, Mina noted it was highly important to observe that despite his kindness, she was a young woman out alone in the late hours of the night. It would be terribly unwise to put her faith in this man blindly without knowing the true depths of his character.
His promise of bearing no ill-will was met with a gentle smile, the good in her fully hoping that the words he spoke were true and that they could both seek some comfort in sitting peacefully on the bench that overlooked the dark sea.
“Mina.” She stated softly, her small frame tentatively moving towards the bench as a rabbit may creep towards a suspected trap. It was not that she suspected this man would commit too terrible a harm upon her, but more rather the unknown of what he may be intending. On the surface, and in his heart, it would be pleasant to know he simply wanted to shelter her on this dark night from others who may prey upon a young woman at this late hour. But, her lack of certainty caused her to waver as she visibly debated taking her perch upon the stone. “Mina Murray, and your name, sir?”
