Darling

The moon and stars above illuminated the path for the figures strolling hand in hand down Bellany Avenue. The silhouettes were a perfect match; or would have been if not for one glaring difference. The pace set by one pair of feet was downright punishing, while the other ambled reluctantly behind.

"It's such a lovely night, my dearest. I wish we could have indulged in each other, but a little longer."

The tailor's left eye twitched. That beguiling tone and coy smile wasn't fooling anyone! The vampire was leaving out his best bait, all in hopes of snaring him for a few more amorous hours! But, the scrupulous Mr. Hart wouldn't be lured in so easily. A quick tug threw the vampire off balance, making him gasp and stumble to keep up with the miffed human.

"Wish as you please, Alabaster Stone. But, some of us have a shop to run!"

Simon was, first and foremost, a businessman. In spite of his mentor's guiding hand, the tailor could confidently say that he had built The Ode to Maria from the ground up. It was his pride and joy; a testament to what a common man could do with some dogged determination. And he would be damned if he let all of his hard work wither away from careless neglect.

In the old days, that concern wouldn't have even crossed his mind. Focus had practically been his middle name. But, the vampire was distracting. Everything about him demanded Simon's attention. His looks, his strength, his- Without warning, the nobleman spun his companion around to face him, abruptly cutting off his thoughts; as well as his escape. The human's back was pressed against The Ode to Maria's door, as the larger man slowly crowded him in.

"Oh? What's this?" Alabaster inquired with a smirk and a teasing gleam in his eyes that made the tailor instinctively swallow, "It appears that I haven't done my job well enough, if you can even think of opening up today."

Emerald eyes narrowed reproachfully as the noble's arms came up to cage him in. His size. That's what Simon had been thinking, before being so rudely interrupted. It was easy to forget with how the nobleman was not given to throwing his weight around. But, their differences couldn't have been painted any starker than in that moment; Alabaster Stone was enormous.

By all accounts, the ever vigilant Mr. Hart should have been terrified. That towering figure, as tall and mighty as the king's walls, blotted out the moonlight, casting him in a veil of shadow. Fangs glimmered in a mouth held ajar, eyes alight with a fervent hunger.

He was trapped. Ensnared by a vampire! In more ways than one. The arms on either side of him were like a steel vice, threatening to clamp down forever. However, Simon knew that he only needed to duck under. It would be easy; an effortless escape.

But, the tailor couldn't bare to look at his own reflection in the mirror if he didn't stay true to the pledge he made. He refused to give in to trepidation. He was a gentleman. And gentlemen held fast to their convictions; thus, Simon Hart, come what may, would keep his emotions under control; fear had no place in his heart, when it came to the Crystal Vampire.

However, just because his feelings were tethered, didn't mean that there wasn't something stirring within him; a wily, intangible mystery that he just couldn't put his finger on. The unknown sensation swelled as Alabaster's face dropped closer to his own. A damp mist kissed his ear, as an offer was breathed into it; one that set the tailor to quivering.

"Want me to give it another try?"

That breezy whisper spiriting through those honeyed lips; oh, but it was tempting! Especially with the recollection of just how warm and inviting those lush petals could be. However, Simon Hart hadn't gotten to where he was in life by being so easily swayed. His frame snapped to attention with a posture that could have commanded respect from the king, himself.

"Try as you like, but my mind couldn't be more made up-"

Whatever words the tailor had yet to speak died in his mouth, as those divine lips butted up against his own. The mortal's shell froze in shock. Did Alabaster really just steal a kiss from him?! To take what wasn't offered, like it already belonged to him?! The audacity!

Surprise gave way to a growl of outrage. The human may not have had fangs, but he was ready, willing and able to remind his paramour of his place. Teeth clamped down on Alabaster's bottom lip, drawing a high-pitched whine from the vampire's throat. It was a stinging lesson; Simon could say from experience that those were certainly the most memorable kind.

Pained eyes fluttered opened to reveal the lightest sheen of tears. Simon's glare intensified. He knew what the other man was trying to do; milk some mercy out of him. It was a shame that he was fresh out, being so infuriated with the love-sick half-wit in front of him.

The tailor doubled down, tugging on the other man's lip with a snarl. He knew he was being anything, but a gentleman in that moment. Simon was certain that wild dogs stalking the streets of Lenore after dark, eager to fight over the day's rotten leavings, had more decency than him. But, he did hope that this act of savagery and blatant disregard for the other man's comfort would drive home his point. Acting like an animal and taking what he wanted was the quickest way to incur Simon's wrath and the other man would get nothing good out of-

Simon hesitated; a velvety soft sound had met his ears. If such a thing was made manifest in the physical realm, it surely would have resembled the down of an angel's wing; such soft decadence. Was that really.. a whimper?

Bewildered, the human prompted the other man to do it again. He gave a harsh pull, liberating another one of those delicious, little sounds from the vampire's mouth. A moan came from his own, unbidden. The rumble tumbling out of him was a surprise even to his own ears; it set his face aflame.

The entire matter was the height of confusion for Simon Hart. How could he be expected to make heads or tails out of it? The man had never felt this way before. But, he knew one thing; he wanted more.

The vampire's lip was released, as Simon turned the tables. He grabbed the taller man by his fine coat, spinning them until the nobleman found himself wedged between the hard door and even harder flesh. Calloused hands yanked him down to the human's level to peer directly into striking, emerald eyes. Alabaster's breath caught in his throat.

"You're so beautiful."

The tailor's heart gave a pinch, liberating an ounce of forgiveness.

"..You incorrigible fool."

Thinner lips crashed onto the noble's like a wave battering a rock on the shore. After some dazed fumbling, Alabaster's hands anchored themselves, holding fast to his lover's wrists. They exchanged kiss, after heated kiss, the wet smacks and impassioned moans echoing throughout the desolate street.

Simon finally pulled away. His appearance was dazed from pleasure. But, it was beyond certainty that he still wasn't pleased with the other man. Especially if that fierce glare shining through the haze along with those tightly pursed lips was anything to go by. Alabaster dared to let a fond smile break through; how could his beloved make looking so cross and sour into an art form?

"If you recall, my dear tailor, you said to try as I liked."

"You know that's not what I meant, you decadent fiend."

The vampire blinked, as if taken by surprise. The tailor crossed his arms; he wasn't buying the other's carefully constructed look of innocence. Alabaster huffed softly in amusement. Simon was smart; it was something he had always admired in him.

"Oh? Is that so? Then, I do hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me for this misunderstanding. Goodnight, Mr. Hart."

The tailor's jaw dropped, as the nobleman straightened his coat and gave a bow, before striding off without another word.

"Just where do you think you're going!? You have not been properly chastised for-!"

Without warning, the vampire sprung out of sight. The thundering of his boots on the rooftops overhead as he fled was the only evidence that he had ever been there at all.

"Get back here this very instant! Alabaster!"

The man was beside himself, as he heard laughter echoing in the distance. Sputtering and mumbling curses oh-so-dreadful, Simon fumbled for the key in his vest.

"That.. That..!"

Its metal clinked on the cobblestone below, as his fingers missed the mark. The tailor groused, before swooping down to claim it. But, so flustered was he, that the typically graceful Mr. Hart had forgotten all about the lion-faced knocker on the door, which had always been needlessly large in his opinion.

A sharp cry of pain escaped him as the tailor bumped heads with the ferociously snarling cat. After rubbing the bruise blossoming on his forehead with a hiss, Simon glared at the bronze ornament like it had personally offended him.

"I'll have you taken to the blacksmith and spun into nails, so help me!"

Without further adieu, Simon stepped back before snatching the runaway key from the dust with a huff. The vampire was no longer there. But, that didn't keep Simon from blaming the nobleman for his misfortunes.

"That.. That scoundrel!"

The door to Simon's shop was slammed shut without much fanfare, before he stormed upstairs.

"That outrageous Lord Stone!"

The baroque coat, usually so meticulously cared for, was tossed aside, letting the fabric fall where it may.

"He's so infuriating! Just who does he think he is?!"

Suddenly, countless images of that perfect face filled his awareness. The tailor paused as he pictured it; such a lovely visage was surely blessed by the goddess of beauty, herself.

Simon Hart never did much believe in the gods; even if he found himself dropping a casual prayer every now and then. Faith was in short supply to a man who had suffered so much. But, maybe, just maybe, Alabaster's existence was proof enough of their presence in his world, after all.

Once the man settled into bed, his green gaze grew contemplative as he starred into the darkness. Images became sensations as he remembered how those hands would hold his own. How those arms would shelter him. How those lips would- The tailor let go of a shuddering breath, before pushing his chestnut locks out of his eyes.

Simon's mind once again settled on that question, as he embraced a nearby pillow. At the end of the day, it was as empty as it was unnecessary. Both men knew where they stood by now; what they were to each other.

In the beginning, the gentleman had tried so hard to fight it. He kicked and screamed, as if falling in love was the equivalent to being dropped down into the burning chasm of Hell. But, as he imagined the softness in his arms to be his beloved, the warm, comforting constant in his life that lessened the sting of all that came before, the tailor of Lenore knew that there was only one right answer; one that he dared to breathe into the silence, his words as sacred and sincere as any prayer ever sent up to the Heavens.

"You are.. my darling. My darling vampire."