Your World

"You wish for me to.. live for you?" Alabaster uttered in surprise.

Simon nodded solemnly. His expression, stern and unshakeable, said more than words ever could. This subject was nonnegotiable. The one thing that the man wouldn't budge on, not even an inch. With the way the vampire was staring at him, the tailor had to wonder if perhaps he thought his price was too steep. But, Alabaster HAD asked what the human wanted from him, after all. And more than anything, he just wanted him to live.

There was a moment of suspenseful silence between them. But, it couldn't last. The tension burst as a melodic sound trickled into the air, which could only be compared to the bubbling of the merriest brook. Simon was at a loss. Was the other man really.. laughing?

The tailor's cheeks slowly deepened in color. Lips parted, only for the words to die on his tongue. In the end, the tailor settled for crossing his arms and shifting his gaze away, becoming the picture of displeasure.

But, what couldn't be seen was the inner battle boiling just beneath the surface. For Simon Hart was caught in the cross-hairs of feeling either mildly miffed or extremely attracted to the lilt of the vampire's voice. Once he had time alone for self reflection, he would decide that it was a bit of both.

"Oh, please don't be sour, my dearest," Alabaster said with sparkling eyes, "I don't mean to insult your pride. You see, I'm stuck on the notion that if you were anyone else in the entire world, that I would have gotten a very different answer."

"Oh? And just what answer would that be?"

The vampire raised an eyebrow, before giving a lopsided smile.

"That person surely would have wanted me to be prepared to die for their love, instead."

The human crossed his arms all the tighter.

"Well, that person is obviously of very little brain and certainly not worth your time."

A chuckle escaped the noble, as he shook his head.

"Is that a note of jealousy I detect, my dear tailor? You DO know that this person is hypothetical and doesn't exist, yes?"

Simon huffed, only to freeze when the other man leaned in closer. Beautiful, sapphire eyes held those of burning emerald in the firm grasp of enchantment.

"No matter," the noble uttered in a conspiratorial whisper, "You could become the green-eyed monster of envy, itself, and you still couldn't be rid of me."

"Oh, just kiss already!"

The spell was broken.

"MIRA!"

The she-elf ignored Simon's shout of indignation, plugging right along, shamelessly.

"Well, you should! Or, at least, give me back my pants! It's cold in here! Are they done yet or should I find another tailor friend?!"

The human gave an ungentlemanly growl, before snatching up the forgotten fabric. Fingers flew as they stitched it back together with practiced ease. Alabaster watched the other's movements with a lazy attention. The rhythm he held was fluid, seamless. Almost hypnotically perfect; so incredibly soothing.

But, what thoughts lingered at the forefront of the noble's mind? He wondered how a man could possibly be so charmingly handsome when he was this irritated. Not to mention this unbelievably talented.

'Where did he learn how to do this?'

Before he could sate his curiosity, Simon rose, before striding over to the changing stalls, with little stomps that the vampire found endearing.

"Here are your blasted trousers!" the human groused as he tossed them over the top of the stall, "Try not to rip them again."

"I didn't rip em! This guy with this cart came along and-!"

"You can tell us the details at dinner. Do hurry up."

"Jeez! Mister impatient over here, everybody! You that hungry?"

"No, I just wish to avoid the dinner rush," Simon uttered, as he drew out his pocket watch to have a look at the time.

"Alright, understandable. You've got a point- Wow! And it's like I'VE got a brand new pair of bottoms! You always do amazing work, Si!"

The compliment made the tailor pause, before visibly relaxing. It was emotional manipulation the elvish princess was playing at and everyone in the room knew it, but why ruin a good thing? Being complimented on his hard-earned skill set never ceased to put Simon in a good mood, after all.

"And now presenting.. ME!"

Mira flung open the door, stepping out like a true debutante. She came forward, holding her arms out to the side, as she twirled this way and that, followed up by a ladylike curtsy that Simon shook his head at; it just didn't suit her. Knowing her personality inside and out, the tailor found this to be the highest degree of silliness.

But, suddenly, a clapping rung out in the room. Green and honeyed eyes found Alabaster playing along as he applauded her effort. Mira's face lit up like a star, as she made a grand hand gesture, acknowledging the gentlemen before her. Simon looked between them, before a soft huff of laughter escaped him. Finally, he gave in to the whimsy of the moment and began clapping as well.

'If I can't beat them, I might as well join them.'

But, what he wouldn't be joining in on? Mira's nonsensical notion that they were going to ANY of their typically venues that night.

"First one out the door gets to choose-"

Simon traded his dignified stride for a full on sprint!

"HEY!"

Not one to be bested in any physical competition, the she-elf dashed toward the door, catching up easily. But, before either one of them could clear the threshold, they found themselves wedged shoulder to rib cage. Simon tried to squeeze forward, only to find that he couldn't budge; they were stuck!

"Simon," Mira drawled out in a whine, "Move back a little!"

"Oh, no, you don't! You wish to be the first one out the door and I won't have it!"

"But, I wanna go to Finnegan's!"

"We shall do no such thing!"

That caused a pushing match to ensue, much to Alabaster's confusion.

"May I ask what is going on here?"

Simon's eyes widened, before giving Mira a shove. But, since when had the she-elf not grinned defiantly in the face of anyone trying to shut her up?

"Oh, just that your boyfriend, here, thinks that Finnegan's is too seedy for a noble like you. Treatin' ya like blown glass, he is."

"Mira, I'm warning you-"

"I mean, he gotta think that you'll go into a dead faint, being served a poor man's ale or seeing the local wenches dancing to some working class ditty!"

"Why must you-!"

"Simon."

That tender voice caused him to look over his shoulder at Alabaster, whose eyes were shimmering with nothing short of adoration.

"Is this true?"

The tailor sighed, as he averted his gaze, color rising high on his cheeks.

"Yes."

His voice had come out in barely a whisper, before he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak more clearly.

"You are a nobleman. I am a common man. Our worlds are.. very different. I fear that you would find a place like Finnegan's to be anything, but tasteful."

The vampire stared for a moment, before shaking his head, fondly.

"Simon, you are a brilliant tailor. But, when it comes to matters of the heart, I fear that my beloved is, but a hopeless fool."

Slipping his hands under the human's arms, Alabaster carefully lifted him up. Mira grabbed at the opportunity, slipping by and snickering like a mischievous imp all the while.

"You-!"

Before his companion could protest, the vampire turned him around to face him. Alabaster tenderly held his gaze.

'Blast it,' Simon lamented, 'Why must those eyes of his constantly be my undoing? They're practically hypnotic and he KNOWS it!'

"...That's not fair."

"I know."

"You never play fair."

"I'm sorry."

"And you gave Mira an easy win. I shan't forgive you."

"Oh? Are you sure?" the vampire offered with a pout, as he put the other man back on his feet again, "For I greatly desire your forgiveness. Surely there has to be some way for me to earn it? I would do anything."

"Opting to go to another restaurant kind of anything?" he asked hopefully.

"Anything, but that."

"Confound it, Alabaster!" Simon exclaimed as he plucked off his hat to tug at the locks of hair beneath, "Why are you so insistent on this?!"

The nobleman sighed, as he smoothed the other's hair back down with a gentle sweep of his fingers, making the poor tailor cheeks resemble tomatoes.

"Because you've already seen my world, Mr. Hart. The galas, the pomp, the circumstance, the diamonds-"

He popped the other man's hat back onto his head, straightening it just so.

"Now, I wish very much to see yours."

The tailor was silent for a few moments, thinking carefully over his next words. Finally, he gave a resigned, tired sigh.

"She's quite right, you know," he confessed like a man owning up to his sins, "Compared to your world, mine IS seedy. The food's not nearly as good and the wine's not as refined. Nor is the company."

Simon could feel his anxiety kicking up like dust from the floor of his soul. Why?! Why couldn't he have been born into a noble household!? Instead taking him to a dingy tavern on the low class side of town, he wanted to take Alabaster somewhere beautiful! Somewhere full of brilliant colors, soft textures and euphoric scents! He wanted to give him the moon and the stars, not the filthy backstreets of Lenore full of terror, violence-

'Mama! Maria! Please wake up!'

And the memories of a little boy dressed in rags crying over the lifeless bodies of his mother and sister who he hoped against hope had gone to a better place.

"My world is.. not fit for someone like you," Simon breathed, as his eyes gained a far off look, "It's full of the ugliness of life."

Two sure, steady hands landed on his shoulders. The tailor came back to himself, staring into crystalline eyes that held him like a warm embrace.

"You're not going to scare me away, Simon."

Green eyes widened in surprise. Lips parted slowly, before pursing together, as the tailor tried to chase away a swell of emotions that were anything, but familiar.

"Fine," Simon said at last, "Do as you will. But, don't blame me if you get an eyeful of something distasteful and scarring."

Alabaster chuckled softly, before giving a reassuring squeeze.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Now, shall we go, my dearest?"

The vampire offered his arm with a gentlemanly flare. The human stared for a moment with an unamused face. But, when Alabaster went to drop his arm, he jolted in surprise when Simon quickly locked their limbs together. The tailor flashed a smirk up at him; very rarely did the noble find himself on the end of surprises such as these or the victim of such a furious blush. He never knew that his special one was such a malicious tease.

"Yes. Let's be off, then."

With that declaration, Simon lead the way out onto the street. The three figures walked down Bellany Avenue as the sun began to set, their shadowy silhouettes growing smaller in the distance. Mira caught her friend's eye and flashed a smug grin, before chattering on cheerfully about anything and everything.

While the vampire noble and the elvish princess waxed on about their shared love of minstrels, the tailor came to realize that Alabaster's words rung true; he really was a hopeless fool. They may have only known each other for a stitch in time, but the two of them had already been through so much together and grown a devotion that ran deep. One man was willing to die for the other, while the other was willing to kill for him.

If that wasn't enough to convince Simon Hart that their love was mutual and that Alabaster Stone truly cared for him, what would? Green eyes looked up at that handsome face that always had a smile just for him and his heart ached.

'I don't know.'