Skye had been careful when it came to the other. Their rising heartbeat loud in his ears which only made him more hungry to have but a taste of the other. It was no easy feat to keep himself all contained so perfectly, but the other was a bitter reminder that he had no longer been of the living. However, that tainted blood he had coursing through his veins had helped heal the young man before him, and knowing that pulled him from his darker thoughts. It was only in times like these that he felt– normal. His gaze would soften, encouraging the other to continue until he felt relief and then he’d pull away. The other’s words, only making him laugh. “Yes, we can. It’s….not an easy diet for most. The longer you’ve had a taste of the real thing, the harder it is to wean off of it. I can certainly tell you, that it was no easy feat in the beginning but–” he’d pause, remembering his encounter with his brother that started this mess to begin with. “–once you actually gain control, everything else just seems easier and the hunger is less unbearable. You might get cranky if you don’t feed, but the mind is definitely clearer then. Less murderous intentions.” Which had been the only time Skye had felt true peace in a long while, but now he was angry all the time all over again, and his urges craved for more than just tearing someone apart. That of which, he would keep to himself.
“I ain’t important enough to even be in the room with ya’.“
He didn’t know why, but that had slightly bugged him. Was that how he had been viewed? Why heads would turn when he walked into a bar, or nobody paid him any mind but to give him the best service they could provide? Skye had liked coming to the village when he could, but never had the thought crossed his mind. He’d figured that maybe– maybe they were all afraid of him. Maybe it was a bit of both. “It’s important, yes. Unfortunately, we are the ones who have– helped in the decision of enslaving all. There are many castles quite like Krovs around the world. This one is just my least favorite,” he’d mutter towards the end to himself. “However, my title does not deter from who I am as a person. It is but a title.” Eyes would avert to Percy’s hand, but the vampire was careful. Instead of simply taking it, he’d carefully hold it so that he’d bring the younger’s knuckles to his lips, giving it but a gentle kiss like he’d been a gentleman. Yet, Skye had not been a gentleman, and he’d release the other carefully to place his hands within his pockets, a smile creeping up on his face. “Keep it,” he’d whisper softly, almost flirtatiously.
“Do we now?” He’d give a breathy chuckle at that, a reminder of someone else he knew who liked to be bitten as well. “Quite frankly, I have all the time in the world. It’s quite depressing really.” Eyes would flutter to the corners and then back towards the other, his toothy side grin rather bright in the lamp lit night. The other was a rather interesting little thing. Something Skye could not understand. The way he spoke, belittling himself and making himself smaller– the vampire wasn’t sure if the other knew he was doing it or if it was intentional, but now he felt slightly guilty for having tried at all. A hand would carefully reach out to lift the other’s face by his chin, eyes locking on the other’s own for a long pause, though he knew the other would most likely protest. Yet– Skye felt empathetic towards him. Something so fragile. The lives he had met recently. It confused him. He’d suck in a breath and pull away again, drawing his hands behind his back this time. “Is that how you wish for them to see us? Me just fucking the whore?” He’d pause. Under normal circumstances, Skye one-hundred percent cared about how others perceived him. Part of that coming from his title, but the other part, was to hide the sadder, darker parts of himself. Vulnerable parts. “How about this? I will escort you safely where you need to be, and then– we will see where the night takes us? Afterall, it’s quite nice out for a stroll.” He’d pause. “–And I highly doubt you’re just some whore from a dive-bar. You should try seeing yourself differently. No one is ever truly what they seem on the surface,” he’d walk past the other nonchalantly, making his way towards where he’d been instructed, as if paying the other no mind, even though he’d been hyper-focused on him.
Percy couldn’t quite make heads or tails of it. He understood the idea just not the desire. Tilting his head as the other spoke, answering he question he’d just blurted out - it didn’t satisfy his curiosity in the least. “But why?” His voice was small, questioning and almost accusatory in equal measure. “Why...why would any of y’all be botherin’ with animals when humans are right there? I...that doesn’t seem to make much sense to me? Y’all...?” He chuckled, more at himself than the other for his own lack of knowledge on the matter. “You vamps...you...y’all won though? Like...the world’s yours? Why not - why wouldn’t you take what you’d fought for and what you’d earned? You’ll keep a slave but draw the line at blood? Genocide, eradication, rape, pillagin’, murderin’? All that’s fine and dandy but you’ll drink a poor fuckin’ housecat over a person?” It wasn’t the most outlandish thing Perceval had ever heard of but he still found it strange.
Like those women his mama used to have over who only ate plants and veggies, claiming it was for the good of the earth but taking the damn things from poor folks who had nothing else. But who was Percy to judge?
When the vampire took Percy’s hand, he stopped short. When the vampire lifted Percy’s hand towards his mouth, he tensed for the bite. As lips met his knuckles, Percy felt heat rise across his face as he glanced away - his eyes wide, a small gasp on his lips that he was immediately embarrassed of. Only one other man had ever taken his hand and kissed it and even at those memories, the color on his cheeks only deepened. Percy wasn’t used to flirting. He was used to business. Being asked how much he was. If he was ‘clean’. If he’d been ‘used’ that night. People didn’t kiss his hand. People didn’t...
He clenched his eyes, hating himself for the argument that bubbled up. “I...” He sighed to himself, still clutching the folded bills. “I...I didn’t...earn it, though?” Dropping his hands down to his sides, he felt his posture go a little slack. “I...If I didn’t earn it, it feels like...” A handout. “You don’t ‘ave to be nice to me just because you went and scared me. It’s fine. You don’t got anythin’ to apologize for.” Walking alongside the vampire - looking down at the folded up bills, Percy eyed the man’s pocket as they walked.
He wondered if he was sly enough to slip the money back into his pocket without him noticing. Carefully reaching over, he used just a touch of his power. The bird somewhere in his soul crested for the split second it took for the bills to lift from his hand and slip back into the other’s pocket. Immediately turning his head in the other direction, Percy let out a very nonchalant little whistle.
“Is that how you wish for them to see us? Me just fucking the whore?”
Percy answered without missing a beat. “I mean - not that I’d be sayin’ no.” He grinned; glancing back at him with a wink. “Just cause’ I’m cheap don’t mean I don’t have a...how would y’all say it? A...uh, discerning - eye. I ain’t blind, yer hot as hell.” He felt like a schoolboy, blush rising across his cheeks once more as he turned his gaze away. He listened to the other’s voice, to the words and sighed softly to himself. He’d heard it before. How self-image was important and all that jazz but it wasn’t necessarily that he had a poor self-image to begin with.
Percy actually thought he had a rather healthy sense of self-esteem. He didn’t hate himself. He hurt himself at times sure but it was only ever to distract himself from a different, worse pain. That was logical. But he also knew how others saw him. Standing in front of a dozen people and all their thoughts flowed like water. Clear, slipping through the cracks in his hands. Each drop reflecting some hideous opinion. “It’s not about how I see myself. It’s about how others do.” He whispered. “You get told enough times as a little kid that you’ll...” He paused, voice strained; “...that you’ll ‘never amount to a fuckin’ thing’. And...shit, anyone’ll believe that after enough years of it.”
Crossing another street, Percy paused at the sight of the neon signs out front refracting off the street-puddles. “That’s it.” He nodded towards the brightly lit eyesore. “Home sweet home.”