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Sunlight stroked his closed eyelids, but he did not move. There was time enough for him to relax now, between classes, between conferences and need for him presence and his assistance. Rest was not something he needed in the physical plain; the rest he craved was that which came to the mental plain of existence.
Hundreds of years in a body which would not age swift nor decay led to many thoughts – the weight of historical, repeated patricide sunk him low into the earth, drowned him in the soil. The rest he needed was escape…
Rest could not stay forever, however. His eyes flickered open slowly, lips pressed tight into an expression of almost sorrowful neutrality. Yes, Alucard had sensed them coming, opened his eyes lest the approacher be concerned.
He did not want concern, sympathy; he feared love and attention, the existence of directed affection made him ill- for every attachment he would outlive, and no attachment did he deserve. ❝ I'm merely resting. Just for a moment. ❞
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