Blood-drunk
Rich families had the pleasure of getting drunk. Roy, like every other vampire, knew this well. He’d grown up hearing the rowdy parties at which such a pleasure usually occurred. Overexcited bagpipes, lively piano, and laughing fiddles bounced off strong stonewalls, escaping their stronghold and wafting over the highlands. They’d drift down to the foothills, where vampires of Roy’s class went about their mundane lives. He’d swore he could feel the uproarious beat of dancing feet on ballroom floor shake the very foundation of his own home. He’d be a liar if he was to say he never pondered to himself what all the ruckus looked like. He tried to image how the evening built from a quiet twilight to a midnight that sounded like a jovial thunderstorm. He’d resigned himself to the fact he’d never actually gain the answers to his musings…until he ran into Ernest. Roy had been making his way through the town square at around 1 am- when the shoppes were at their busiest. One of his bags had slid off his shoulder to the cobblestone below. He’d stooped to retrieve it, but a ring covered hand had slipped itself through the handle before he could reach it. He lifted his eyes and was met with a pair of golden green ones. In a time before class and money turned men into earls or commoners, Roy and Ernest had been the best of friends. Roy remembered the times he’d missed those very same eyes during hide and seek, their hue blending into the resting grass. They’d picked back up as if it they’d been apart a week and not a century. Ernest had convinced Roy to stop off and let him buy him a drink as they caught up, and Roy indulged his old friend. The night was chilled at this time of year, so Ernest picked a hot cocktail for the both of them. Roy let it slip down his throat slowly so as not wanting to embarrass himself in front of his friend should it be too strong for him. He was pleasantly surprised at how fresh the blood tasted when it was warmed like this. But something was different. The age…it gave it a spice he’d never felt before. It rose from his mouth to his head, and wrapped itself around his mind. Ernest looked at him with slight concern.
“Are you well, Roy? Your colour has gone all funny…is the drink not to your liking? I could always order you another.” Roy shook his head, hating to give Ernest the wrong impression.
“No, no- it’s very good! I’ve just…never had one before.” Ernest cocked an eyebrow as the same unbelieving grin he’d always had when he thought someone was telling a story crossed his face.
“Never had a drink?” Roy shook his head, slightly embarrassed at his lack of pampering. It was a poor man’s trait to have only enough blood for a meal. There was never enough to save for later, let alone age for years. A cheer went up from the stone castle on in the highlands. Roy and Ernest turned to see fireworks explode from its tallest spires, decorating the night sky. After a moment, Ernest turned to back to Roy.
“My uncle throws a banquet tonight.” His eyes jumped, alive with what he was about to suggest.
“I was on my way there when we crossed paths. Perhaps we were meant to go together.” Roy opened his mouth in surprise, which Ernest took as a means to object. He clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, pulling Roy up as Ernest stood from his chair.
“Do not refuse me, old friend,” he chastened, throwing some coins onto the table before guiding his friend out. The cool night air engulfed Roy’s cheeks as they burst through the wooden doors of the tavern. Ernest turned Roy to face him.
“You know how long our lives will lead. Would it be a sin to have one night of joy between years of darkness?” Roy looked back up to the highlands, stone towers standing proud in the light of the ever present moon. He looked back to Ernest, and nodded. The two set off.
Roy had never been amongst so many people, so much noise, and so much blood. It seemed it was being offered everywhere he turned in ways he never thought possible. It sparkled like rubies in flutes and bubbled like garnet in mugs. Some was sweet as a starry sky and some was deep as a night full of cloud. He tried them all until he could take no more- a time that came much faster for him than it did for Ernest. They danced and sang and laughed their way up the stairs, and Roy thought he’d never be sad again. Ernest pulled him onto a veranda, and they both collapsed onto a pile of cushions, hysterical over one of the old dukes lighting his own trousers on fire in the hall. Ernest clapped Roy once more on the shoulder.
“My friend! If only every night could be like this one! All the years that have passed without you- where have they gone?” He roared through a wide grin. Roy giggled at his friend’s boisterous proclamation. Yes, the night was chilled at this time of year, but between his friend’s warm presence and the strong drink soaking his very being, he could no longer feel its bite. He stared over the balcony at the still water above which the castle presided. It was as if a whole sky was down below, yet Roy knew it to be nothing more than a reflection. Ernest followed his gaze, a loopy smile gracing his lips.
“…have you ever thought about what you look like?” Roy looked over to him, eyebrows raised. He had wondered once, particularly when he was child, looking in to lakes much like this one and seeing only what was behind him. He’d since stopped wondering, reckoning that maybe it was better not to know. Ernest threw himself back on the cushions, turning his eyes back up to the stars.
“You have, without a doubt, the wildest hair I’ve ever seen,” Ernest sighed. He moved his arms to gesture around Roy’s head, as if to circle his face.
“I used to think that maybe it was just messy from all the horseplay we used to do, but even now I as I see you, it opens around your face like petals.” He began to laugh. “You look like a sunflower! Yes- a sunflower, tall as they come!” Roy joined in with his laughter, throwing himself back to lounge beside his friend.
“Well, you have these eyes. I used to think you were part tiger, they’re so bright! Maybe if it weren’t for you lack of sleep, they’d be toned down,” he pulled his own eyes downward, poking fun at the dark under eye circles his friend had had since childhood, black cushions against which emeralds laid. Ernest punched his arm good heartedly.
“You think yourself so clever. And what of your freckles? They coat your nose and spread throughout your face like…” he looked back up at the stars. “Like that!” he pointed. “I remember the first time we swim together- I thought for sure they’d wash off. Imagine my shock when they stayed, even after you toweled yourself dry!”
“If my freckles are anywhere as dark as your eyebrows, I can see why! They were thick as caterpillars when we were children, but you’ve grown into them so well!”
The two friends went on like this for hours- Roy going on about Ernest’s high pointed nose, shiny waves, and strong shoulders and Ernest illustrating Roy’s rosy lips and sharp ears, and long neck. They measured their fangs with their fingers to see whose were bigger, concluding that Ernest’s were wider but Roy’s were longer. The sky turned and turned above them until it became a dusty charcoal, the colour of a night pregnant with morning light. They would have to go soon.
“…over a century and we never knew,” Ernest murmured, his eyes closed against the dullness of alcohol leaving his head alone with his thoughts.
“It’s because we were too busy playing mirror to each other to care, once,” Roy quipped. He looked to his friend. “And besides, it wouldn’t have mattered. You’ve changed so much since then, Ernest…”
Ernest shook his head. “That goes for you as well, my friend.” He turned a smirk at Roy. “Now you see the face you’ll have to swallow for a lifetime. Fancy that.” Roy smiled, and for a change, clapped his Ernest on the shoulder.
“Seeing this changed face of yours once more exceeds what I thought a lifetime could offer me. For that…I am grateful.”
@frankmorys
