[ his actions, needy and clinging, as well as his words, go a long way to make her soften from her upset. she presses a gentle kiss to his hair, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, a silent promise that she's not letting go, she's not going anywhere. ]
Being everything is scary.
[ it's a whispered confession, but she's petting his hair while she says it, and she doesn't really sound bothered by it. she's dealt with scary things all her life, after all. this one is worth it.
gradually, her hand slows over his hair, until it gently drops against his shoulder as she falls asleep. after drinking is about the only time she's able to sleep heavily, and she does tonight as well, only mumbling a little in her sleep after dawn when he leaves, as he still typically does for discretion. ]
I know. I'm sorry. I don't know how to be any other way. I'll always be--wanting, and covetous, and all-devouring. I've needed you since the moment I met you.
[ it's soft, barely audible, but he means it.
other than that, though, he lets her drift off and sleep. he watches her sleep, like a creep, and holds her close. he does leave around dawn though, gently escaping her arms to drag himself downstairs for his own sleep, pressing a kiss to her brow before he leaves.
he tells seras to lay off for a while, too, to make sure that integra gets more sleep. it's only fair. that said, he doesn't sleep very long, just lingers in the basement, and comes back upstairs to wait for her to get up, which just makes seras roll her eyes at how obvious he's being. still, when she gets up, he'll be lingering like a puppy excited for his master to come home.
[ she thinks she mumbles "me, too" but it might get trapped in her head as she falls asleep.
waking up is slow, distorted by strange snatches of dreams that are half-lucid, but still weird as fuck. when she does finally rise to consciousness, it's with a groan because she has a headache. it takes a few moments to register that the light filtering through her curtains isn't right, and she braves opening her eyes to squint around. finally finding the clock, she stares at it for a moment, trying to figure out why it's almost 5 in the afternoon, when typically she gets up at 2.
fine. whatever. she sits up and buries her head in her hands with a groan. she doesn't remember a lot of what happened after a certain point last night, and what is remembered is a jumbled mess, but she knows things will straighten out in her mind eventually. ]
[ now, alucard hears her. he's right outside, which he knows is kind of pathetic, but here he is anyway--and he waits a bit longer, just a bit, before he finally pokes his head and torso through the door, head canting slightly aside as he observes her. sure, it's late, but nothing horrible has gone on while she slept, and once he's lingered this way a moment he moves inside the room completely with a hum, watching her. ]
[ she knows he's there, a shift in the air when the door opens along with some innate sense of him (plus seras wouldn't have lingered or stayed quiet even a second after the door had opened). she only turns to squint at him when he speaks. the movement doesn't set off her headache nearly as badly as she expected, which reminds her he made her take painkillers and drink water before bed. he handled her a lot more deftly than seras ever has--but then seras hasn't known her for over a decade, and she's not in love with the draculina. ]
I s'pose it's better than it could be. [ she finally admits in a scratchy voice, making her wince.
she finds the glass of water still on her bedside table, along with the paracetamol, and makes use of both of them. her stomach protests having more things dumped into it that's not food, but she'll fix that shortly. ]
Why didn't Seras wake me up?
[ she doesn't even ask how he knew she was awake and arrived so quickly; she's quite aware of his stalker-ish ways. ]
Oh, it could be awful, terrible. But nothing is amiss, and the night is young.
[ an oddly romantic way of looking at it, but it is what it is. he comes closer as she fusses around with things and takes some more medication: he settles on the edge of the bed, observing quietly before he smiles and gives a little shrug. ]
I told her to let you sleep unless necessary. Thankfully, as it was daytime, nothing horrible went on while you rested. I kept an ear out. Things were blissfully quiet.
[ ...oh god. oh, god. what the hell did she say last night? it's starting to come back, and she's slowly becoming mortified. he's never seen her really drunk before; she'd had an occasional glass of wine or whiskey, but it wasn't until--after the war that she first decided 'fuck it, I want to get drunk' and proceeded to do so. and then she'd... decided it was a good way to keep her mind from tumbling over thoughts she couldn't do anything about, so it started to happen with slowly increasing frequency.
since his return though, she hasn't felt the need to just forget, though. yesterday had just been meeting on top of phone call on top of forms, all seeming to say the same thing: you're not doing what we want, which means you're doing it wrong. she'd like to think it was an aberration of the new normal, but... ]
...did I actually tell you not to let me talk you into sex?
I'm not too cheerful for anything. It's almost night, which is my favorite time of the day, I'm able to relax here next to the woman I love--
[ --he grins a little, as she realizes. while a part of him still worries about her drinking, it's only a one off for now, so he doesn't need to think about it much, at least not now, and the way she still gets flustered sometimes is still so cute.
ah, love.
then, at her question, he snorts-- ]
You did, yes. You didn't need to tell me, though, as I'm not inclined toward inebriated sex in the first place, even with temptation like you provide.
[ she buries her face in her hands with another groan. yes, it's all coming back to her--and she remembers the other conversation they had, too. she freezes, eyes wide behind her fingers. she told him, in so many words, that she wanted him to make her a vampire, that she's thought about it before. not good, not good, not good.
of course she's thought about it; he can't die anymore, and she knows he'd be even more lost without her than she was when he was missing. but she hadn't meant to bring it up yet, particularly not when she was drunk and so many of her filters are basically non-functional. ]
I'm sorry. I don't--there's not a lot of thought put into what words come out of my mouth, when I'm like that.
[ he doesn't know she's not strictly talking about the sex anymore, but it's a blanket apology for her behavior last night, anyway. ]
[ yes, that is definitely what he's trying not to think about! honestly, that part is the part he felt most uncomfortable with, because it's--
--he knows, logically, that someday integra will likely die and leave him. and he knows he's not going to handle it well. but he also knows that eternity is a torment, and he doesn't want to force that onto her, even if she's the one suggesting it. it's not that he thinks integra can't handle being a vampire, it's that he can't handle her being a vampire. at least not now.
her apology strikes him and he looks at her quietly a moment before shaking his head. ]
You were, generally speaking, relatively benign. No harm done.
[ said affectionately, leaning into the kiss. reluctantly, she smiles at his last comment. ]
You're a very good cuddler. Like the cool side of the pillow.
Vlad...
[ she's not sure what else she wants to say. she wants to have a serious conversation with him, but having a serious conversation about anything with alucard is like pulling teeth most of the time. she doesn't want to upset him, he knows she wants to talk about something upsetting so he deflects, and unless it's absolutely necessary, she lets him, lets the moment slip away, promising herself they'll talk about it later.
she hates that this is sitting between them unresolved now, though. but would resolving it really be any better? she doesn't know. ]
I've never been able to lie to you. You know that.
[ he doesn't mean physically unable to, though that was the case for a long time--he doesn't want to lie to her, wants to always be truthful, to never give her reason to doubt him, but it's so hard, and he can't help but twist things to suit him, to make sure things stay...calmer than they might otherwise.
he snorts at the odd compliment, but she's not wrong--
--his name makes him look at her curiously though, if a bit warily. he knows they should talk, god, he does, but he hates--
--he hates confronting things, talking about them plainly, so he's careful when he responds. ]
Yes?
[ there's a tinge of caution that's just audible, and he hates it, honestly, but what's done is done. ]
[ she sighs at his response, knowing he'd never lie to her--but also knowing he tends to tell his version of the truth. ]
That's the worst part. You say 'no harm done' but-- [ she turns to lean her forehead against his shoulder for a moment. ] Sometimes I wonder if you even realize that I'm hurting you.
[ it's an almost-whispered confession, and now she doesn't even have the excuse of being drunk when she utters it.
still, she shakes his head when he questions her. she can hear the caution, and she's already decided she's not going to hurt him again now. ]
Nothing. It's nothing.
I'm hungry, and surprisingly feeling like my stomach will tolerate food. I'm going to see what's palatable in the kitchen. Will you join me?
[ it's--said earnestly, which is probably worse, because there are times she does and he doesn't even register it that way because she's not locking him in a basement alone, or torturing him, or--
--she could do practically anything to him, and he would weather it with a sickeningly indulgent smile, all because he loves her.
still, he holds onto her when she's close, covetous, though he pulls back a bit when she shakes her head and he lofts an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. ]
It's not nothing.
[ but that's all he says. he lets the moment pass, lets her move on, even if his hand settles at her back as she speaks. finally, he nods. ]
Of course. I'll keep you company. It's for the best if you eat, anyway. How long has it been?
[ they all know she forgets, or puts it off, or just doesn't bother, at times. when she wants to eat, she should eat.
he shifts, drawing up to his feet, and extends a hand to her so that she can use him to hoist herself up. ]
[ she opens her mouth-- and then lets it go. of course he doesn't see that she hurts him. that's all right, as long as she sees it, maybe she can... try to stop doing it.
she's glad he takes the hint and lets her change the subject. although that subtle dig about her forgetting or just ignoring when she should eat - yes, she recognizes what that is, everyone thinks she's 5 and can't take care of herself, clearly - makes her eyebrow twitch, and she glares at him as she stands up. ]
I had a sandwich last night. I don't drink on an empty stomach.
[ which is...good? but also means 1: that she's learned not to drink on an empty stomach, and more importantly 2: it wasn't an accident that she got drunk; she planned accordingly. ]
[ it's not that he thinks of her as a 5 year old--more, she's too intent on her work, too engrossed, too responsible, and just needs a gentle reminder at times, or for someone to bring her some food outright so that she can take a break.
still, it is good that she ate, but the fact that she did it as a drinking precaution is... his lips briefly press into a thin line before he relaxes and nods, turning to go to the door and open it for her. ]
Alright. That's good.
[ well. arthur had never bothered to eat before, during, or after drinking, so at least that's a step up. ]
I'm not sure what's down there, the last time I grabbed a bag was a couple days ago.
[ he doesn't need to eat often, after all--once a week is plenty enough for him, generally speaking, so he just grabs blood once in a while.
[ her eyes narrow at his back as he moves toward the door, but pushes it aside. let him judge her all he wants, she remembers that part of their text conversation now, too. (she's dreading reading through those eventually.)
...no, no. she doesn't want to be mad at him, she just... wants to forget about this whole thing. to that end, she brushes her hand down his arm lightly as she steps past him, smiling slightly--apologetically? in forgiveness? all of the above, probably. ]
There's always soup, and toast. Which is probably what I should start with, anyway.
[ seras usually brings her broth when she wakes up after drinking--served with a disappointed/disapproving look, but no berating words. the fact she didn't today is a little surprising, but then she probably already knows alucard is in here with her. within the house they're only discreet for human eyes and ears.
and she does eat! soup now, a sandwich last night! thought of and procured all by herself! ]
[ and god, he's not even judging. just--concerned. he knows these kinds of things can run in the family, and he's seen it in arthur, but he only has the one experience to go off of with integra so he can't really make a judgment call, it's just...
... god, it's complicated, and he doesn't know what to do or say.
her hand at his arm makes him smile though, faintly, and he catches her hand, bringing it up so that he can brush a kiss across her knuckles, gaze on her nothing short of adoring. christ, he practically worships her.
he hums though, thoughtful, then nods. ]
For the best, probably. Soup is definitely palatable.
[ he's no expert on food anymore, but soup is one of those things that almost never fails.
he keeps holding onto her hand on the way down to the kitchen, by the way, wanting and proprietary. ]
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goneforawalk) wrote2019-05-11 10:26 pm
no subject
Being everything is scary.
[ it's a whispered confession, but she's petting his hair while she says it, and she doesn't really sound bothered by it. she's dealt with scary things all her life, after all. this one is worth it.
gradually, her hand slows over his hair, until it gently drops against his shoulder as she falls asleep. after drinking is about the only time she's able to sleep heavily, and she does tonight as well, only mumbling a little in her sleep after dawn when he leaves, as he still typically does for discretion. ]
no subject
[ it's soft, barely audible, but he means it.
other than that, though, he lets her drift off and sleep. he watches her sleep, like a creep, and holds her close. he does leave around dawn though, gently escaping her arms to drag himself downstairs for his own sleep, pressing a kiss to her brow before he leaves.
he tells seras to lay off for a while, too, to make sure that integra gets more sleep. it's only fair. that said, he doesn't sleep very long, just lingers in the basement, and comes back upstairs to wait for her to get up, which just makes seras roll her eyes at how obvious he's being. still, when she gets up, he'll be lingering like a puppy excited for his master to come home.
which, really, he kind of is. ]
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waking up is slow, distorted by strange snatches of dreams that are half-lucid, but still weird as fuck. when she does finally rise to consciousness, it's with a groan because she has a headache. it takes a few moments to register that the light filtering through her curtains isn't right, and she braves opening her eyes to squint around. finally finding the clock, she stares at it for a moment, trying to figure out why it's almost 5 in the afternoon, when typically she gets up at 2.
fine. whatever. she sits up and buries her head in her hands with a groan. she doesn't remember a lot of what happened after a certain point last night, and what is remembered is a jumbled mess, but she knows things will straighten out in her mind eventually. ]
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Good evening.
[ close enough. ]
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I s'pose it's better than it could be. [ she finally admits in a scratchy voice, making her wince.
she finds the glass of water still on her bedside table, along with the paracetamol, and makes use of both of them. her stomach protests having more things dumped into it that's not food, but she'll fix that shortly. ]
Why didn't Seras wake me up?
[ she doesn't even ask how he knew she was awake and arrived so quickly; she's quite aware of his stalker-ish ways. ]
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[ an oddly romantic way of looking at it, but it is what it is. he comes closer as she fusses around with things and takes some more medication: he settles on the edge of the bed, observing quietly before he smiles and gives a little shrug. ]
I told her to let you sleep unless necessary. Thankfully, as it was daytime, nothing horrible went on while you rested. I kept an ear out. Things were blissfully quiet.
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You're far too cheerful for--
[ ...oh god. oh, god. what the hell did she say last night? it's starting to come back, and she's slowly becoming mortified. he's never seen her really drunk before; she'd had an occasional glass of wine or whiskey, but it wasn't until--after the war that she first decided 'fuck it, I want to get drunk' and proceeded to do so. and then she'd... decided it was a good way to keep her mind from tumbling over thoughts she couldn't do anything about, so it started to happen with slowly increasing frequency.
since his return though, she hasn't felt the need to just forget, though. yesterday had just been meeting on top of phone call on top of forms, all seeming to say the same thing: you're not doing what we want, which means you're doing it wrong. she'd like to think it was an aberration of the new normal, but... ]
...did I actually tell you not to let me talk you into sex?
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[ --he grins a little, as she realizes. while a part of him still worries about her drinking, it's only a one off for now, so he doesn't need to think about it much, at least not now, and the way she still gets flustered sometimes is still so cute.
ah, love.
then, at her question, he snorts-- ]
You did, yes. You didn't need to tell me, though, as I'm not inclined toward inebriated sex in the first place, even with temptation like you provide.
[ half teasing, half reassuring. kind of. ]
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of course she's thought about it; he can't die anymore, and she knows he'd be even more lost without her than she was when he was missing. but she hadn't meant to bring it up yet, particularly not when she was drunk and so many of her filters are basically non-functional. ]
I'm sorry. I don't--there's not a lot of thought put into what words come out of my mouth, when I'm like that.
[ he doesn't know she's not strictly talking about the sex anymore, but it's a blanket apology for her behavior last night, anyway. ]
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--he knows, logically, that someday integra will likely die and leave him. and he knows he's not going to handle it well. but he also knows that eternity is a torment, and he doesn't want to force that onto her, even if she's the one suggesting it. it's not that he thinks integra can't handle being a vampire, it's that he can't handle her being a vampire. at least not now.
her apology strikes him and he looks at her quietly a moment before shaking his head. ]
You were, generally speaking, relatively benign. No harm done.
[ god, but he lets her get away with everything--
--he sighs, leaning over to kiss her temple. ]
I will say, the cuddling was appreciated.
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You're such a terrible liar.
[ said affectionately, leaning into the kiss. reluctantly, she smiles at his last comment. ]
You're a very good cuddler. Like the cool side of the pillow.
Vlad...
[ she's not sure what else she wants to say. she wants to have a serious conversation with him, but having a serious conversation about anything with alucard is like pulling teeth most of the time. she doesn't want to upset him, he knows she wants to talk about something upsetting so he deflects, and unless it's absolutely necessary, she lets him, lets the moment slip away, promising herself they'll talk about it later.
she hates that this is sitting between them unresolved now, though. but would resolving it really be any better? she doesn't know. ]
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[ he doesn't mean physically unable to, though that was the case for a long time--he doesn't want to lie to her, wants to always be truthful, to never give her reason to doubt him, but it's so hard, and he can't help but twist things to suit him, to make sure things stay...calmer than they might otherwise.
he snorts at the odd compliment, but she's not wrong--
--his name makes him look at her curiously though, if a bit warily. he knows they should talk, god, he does, but he hates--
--he hates confronting things, talking about them plainly, so he's careful when he responds. ]
Yes?
[ there's a tinge of caution that's just audible, and he hates it, honestly, but what's done is done. ]
no subject
That's the worst part. You say 'no harm done' but-- [ she turns to lean her forehead against his shoulder for a moment. ] Sometimes I wonder if you even realize that I'm hurting you.
[ it's an almost-whispered confession, and now she doesn't even have the excuse of being drunk when she utters it.
still, she shakes his head when he questions her. she can hear the caution, and she's already decided she's not going to hurt him again now. ]
Nothing. It's nothing.
I'm hungry, and surprisingly feeling like my stomach will tolerate food. I'm going to see what's palatable in the kitchen. Will you join me?
no subject
[ it's--said earnestly, which is probably worse, because there are times she does and he doesn't even register it that way because she's not locking him in a basement alone, or torturing him, or--
--she could do practically anything to him, and he would weather it with a sickeningly indulgent smile, all because he loves her.
still, he holds onto her when she's close, covetous, though he pulls back a bit when she shakes her head and he lofts an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. ]
It's not nothing.
[ but that's all he says. he lets the moment pass, lets her move on, even if his hand settles at her back as she speaks. finally, he nods. ]
Of course. I'll keep you company. It's for the best if you eat, anyway. How long has it been?
[ they all know she forgets, or puts it off, or just doesn't bother, at times. when she wants to eat, she should eat.
he shifts, drawing up to his feet, and extends a hand to her so that she can use him to hoist herself up. ]
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she's glad he takes the hint and lets her change the subject. although that subtle dig about her forgetting or just ignoring when she should eat - yes, she recognizes what that is, everyone thinks she's 5 and can't take care of herself, clearly - makes her eyebrow twitch, and she glares at him as she stands up. ]
I had a sandwich last night. I don't drink on an empty stomach.
[ which is...good? but also means 1: that she's learned not to drink on an empty stomach, and more importantly 2: it wasn't an accident that she got drunk; she planned accordingly. ]
no subject
still, it is good that she ate, but the fact that she did it as a drinking precaution is... his lips briefly press into a thin line before he relaxes and nods, turning to go to the door and open it for her. ]
Alright. That's good.
[ well. arthur had never bothered to eat before, during, or after drinking, so at least that's a step up. ]
I'm not sure what's down there, the last time I grabbed a bag was a couple days ago.
[ he doesn't need to eat often, after all--once a week is plenty enough for him, generally speaking, so he just grabs blood once in a while.
unlike a human! who must eat every day! ]
no subject
...no, no. she doesn't want to be mad at him, she just... wants to forget about this whole thing. to that end, she brushes her hand down his arm lightly as she steps past him, smiling slightly--apologetically? in forgiveness? all of the above, probably. ]
There's always soup, and toast. Which is probably what I should start with, anyway.
[ seras usually brings her broth when she wakes up after drinking--served with a disappointed/disapproving look, but no berating words. the fact she didn't today is a little surprising, but then she probably already knows alucard is in here with her. within the house they're only discreet for human eyes and ears.
and she does eat! soup now, a sandwich last night! thought of and procured all by herself! ]
no subject
... god, it's complicated, and he doesn't know what to do or say.
her hand at his arm makes him smile though, faintly, and he catches her hand, bringing it up so that he can brush a kiss across her knuckles, gaze on her nothing short of adoring. christ, he practically worships her.
he hums though, thoughtful, then nods. ]
For the best, probably. Soup is definitely palatable.
[ he's no expert on food anymore, but soup is one of those things that almost never fails.
he keeps holding onto her hand on the way down to the kitchen, by the way, wanting and proprietary. ]