@dhorreurs.
Despite everything about his crazy antic-filled life, Philippe Ballard was one of the very very few that could actually manage to subdue Tommy. Miraculous, everyone knew, but Tommy wasn’t quite Tommy around the elder. He was still just as blunt, just as bratty, but a little more reserved, a little more wary. Some might’ve called it fear. In truth, Tommy didn’t know why he acted differently around Philippe compared to the others, just that he did. Perhaps it was out of respect. The ideas were all lost on him.
Regardless, he’d thrown a fit when Henryk had left the two of them. Tommy caused a huge scene in Philippe’s home (not that it mattered much) as if he and Philippe were the only two people who existed in the world, demanding that he was fine and everything was fine but had went on a four hour tangent about their lost companion. He was not fine. In the months to come, Tommy was most certainly not fine, and he was positive that the elder vampire could sense it.
—And then, like a damn dream come true, Henryk returned. Tommy’s spirits lifted almost on cue, despite how frustrated he’d been with him. Even now he sat in Philippe’s living room, a glass of blood-infused whiskey in his hands while lounging on his couch. He smiled from ear to ear, looking up at Philippe as he passed by. “So, is the sire bond supposed to heighten feelings?” Tommy found himself asking. The prospect of being or having a sire was foreign, seeing as how the vampire who’d created him had bailed instantly. Dick. “Like... Are you still mad at him, or are you just really good at hiding your emotions?”
