Silverware | Philippe & Patricius
He had been curious at the mention of Patrick’s roommate. It wasn’t out of jealousy, though he could be rather protective of his sire, but it bothered him to know Patricius hadn’t told him about it from the very beginning. If there was one thing that instilled anger within the vampire, it was to be kept in the dark. If he knew what was to come, what was in store, he could prepare for it --- he could exact control over it. Not knowing was a curse, a damnation to failure. No matter how much the truth hurt, a lie would always harm him impossibly more.
Philippe took a seat at the dinner table, watching the clock ticking near seven. A minute, he had said, a minute past seven and hell would break loose. A lie must be paid for with commitment, shouldn’t it? Isabel had left not five minutes prior and dinner had been served, all but the main dish ready. It would him another ten minutes to serve the main course. Cooking demanded precision, after all, and that he was good at --- if only he cared enough for cooking to put in the effort.
The short hand of the clock reached seven and the doorbell rang. A smile colored his features. Yes, of course Patricius wouldn’t show up a minute sooner or a minute later. He had said seven and seven it would be. His sire never wasted an opportunity to point out how unreasonable he was, even when he met said unreasonable demands. Philippe moved to the front door and swung it open, stretching an arm towards the interior of the mansion. “Bienvenue chez moi”, he greeted him. “Le diner est servi.”