TIMESTAMP: 29 Calid March, Searing 122
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► Show Spoiler
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On some nights, Vergil would return home…very late. When this first started happening, Hector would tend to linger awake, wanting to see the man before he went to sleep. As it became more common, maybe once or twice a week, he realized it made far more sense to just go to sleep and bother him in the morning. Though he was curious, he never questioned the older man, always assuming it was for work or something similar given the nature of hospitals and medical emergencies and the like.
This night, indeed, was one of those nights. It was also an unfortunate coincidence for such a thing to happen as Hector was quite unhappy to have been left alone. Vergil's shifts were already long, and for whatever reason, this day in particular had hit the young elf hard emotionally. He wanted little more than the companionship of the other vampyre, fears closing in on him that somehow, he'd wake up only to have his life smashed to pieces again.
Irrational, maybe, but if he said he was worried about Zaichaer abstractly being destroyed by a massive Dread Rift, people would have said that that was irrational, too. Such a thing was preposterous and such a low chance of happening! Why worry? And so now, his mind would run itself in circles, ruminating about ruination that didn't make sense or likely wouldn't happen, but Hector couldn't stop himself. These intrusive thoughts swirled around in his head in a vortex most vicious.
On this particular night, however, instead of mass destruction, his mind was worried about something much smaller, albeit still devastating on a personal level for the mage. He worried Vergil would not return that night, and if he didn't, that he wouldn't return the next morning, or the next day, or ever, for that matter, and then that he would never even find out or be told about his beloved companion's fate. Either that, or he'd come to learn the man died in circumstances most terrible. Hector couldn't help himself. These thoughts, for whatever reason, began to creep in shortly after the older man left for work that day. Without class or anything else, he didn't have anything that required his presence, and while he did his level best to distract himself, every few hours he'd feel his stomach drop and the paranoia would grace him with its poisonous presence.
As time ticked by, these thoughts became more frequent, and by the time the sun had set, his anxiety levels had risen to a point that he felt nauseous. He just…he knew he was being ridiculous, but he just wanted to see Vergil, to know he was okay. Unable to silence his mind, he figured he should just go to sleep. His friend would be back by the time he awoke, he told himself, and all would be well. The only problem with that is he had trouble both falling and staying asleep.
Hector's heart beat heavy in his chest, thoughts lost in the mire of his worry. Eventually, he did manage to calm himself enough to find some rest, only to wake up about two hours later and still be alone. However, the unfortunate part about that is that at that point, Vergil's shift was over. Looking at the clock in their living space, the older vampyre should've been home by now. Why wasn't he…?? Was he okay? And so, his anxiety was reignited and stoked the flames of his worry.
However, one must remember that on some nights, it was not abnormal for Vergil to be late. Hector knew this…but even so, it was of little solace for one so distraught and lacking in patience. All of this, of course, was due to the little elf not having developed any good coping mechanisms for when overwhelmed and then being handed piles upon piles of emotional baggage over his short life, a large portion of which had been dumped upon him that Searing.
He really just…wanted to sleep. Hector wanted to close his eyes and when they reopened, he wanted to get up and see Vergil sitting in the living room, perhaps asleep in his bed, anything, really. He just wanted to see him, nothing else. He was unable to quell his emotions, in truth, and eventually broke down. In some ways, this was a relief, as it tired him just well enough that he managed to fall asleep again.
By the time Vergil returned home, it was some time between midnight and the witching hour, he didn’t quite know and he didn’t bother to check. In this case, the reason for his lateness wasn’t anything official or work related– rather, he’d stayed out with a friend for a while thinking nothing of it. Which, in reality, was fair; Hector’s reaction was an irrational sort of trauma response that’s difficult to predict. But over the course of the conversation he’d had with this friend of his, he’d managed to settle some choice concerns and a few doubts that had been plaguing him all this time since he’d arrived in the Imperium. He felt…a lot better about certain things regarding himself and his situation, at peace with his emotions more so than he had been before.
That being the case, he turned toward Hector’s room instead of his own after he’d gotten ready to sleep, nestling in beside the cocooned little elf. The motion and weight of his embrace woke him, though only slightly, resulting in a sort of delirious state. Surrounded by the heat of another, the younger vampyre was confused for a few seconds as his perception registered the soft texture of skin against his back. For a moment, he thought this was just a different shade of dream, but no…he had awoken in the arms of the man he’d missed so very much. Vergil was not oblivious to the shifting tensions in the boy’s musculature. Though he had tried not to, he realized he woke the other up.
Placing a gentle kiss against the top of the elf’s head, “I hope I didn’t worry you too much…” words barely more than a murmur.
Exhaling a sigh, tired and half drunk, he did mean this. Vergil was well aware of how damaged the boy had become since they took refuge from Zaichaer and also just how attached to him he was. In response, Hector’s body tensed, not wanting to admit just how upset he’d truly gotten. He thought it to be…embarrassing, really. The silence and the way he’d bristled himself did key the older of the two into the fact that he had worried him, though not to what degree. But regardless of what degree, he still felt the weight of guilt as it formed in his chest.
“Is…there anything I can do for you, love? I can feel the anxiety you hold…” he spoke sweetly, gentle and low.
Hector’s breath caught for just a moment at the pet name. Did he mean that…?
“I…just…” words caught in his mouth, “...holding me is…is enough.”
“Are you sure…? I can do much more to make it up to you if you’d like,” affection and the slightest threads of teasing woven into a voice of velvet.
Hector’s chest tightened, what did he mean? There were…options, but he didn’t want to delude himself with wishful thinking and be wrong. Had he finally made up his mind about them being lovers?
As if to illustrate better what he meant, Vergil drifted one of his hands down to the demure elf’s abdomen, just below his hips and ever so gently drew little circles with his fingertips. Hector squirmed, a tremor running through his legs in response. He very much wanted what the other was hinting at, but all the same, he was still terribly anxious about asking or even suggesting his desires.
“Yes..?”
“I…I…um…yes but…m-maybe…later…?” waking up to something so unexpected, he was feeling quite a bit overwhelmed.
Vergil sighed into a smile; Hector’s bashfulness was so very cute…and he was a patient man, so waiting didn’t bother him, much as his desires had been stirred in the moment. Kissing the elf’s head again, he tightened his grip, pulling the smaller man as close to him as he could. Hector relaxed…the other vampyre’s embrace was something he often found every inch of himself craving; he felt at home like this.
“Of course, I am nothing if not patient…” Vergil’s voice stayed sweet, though this time more loving.
Twined together, it didn’t take long for both men to fall into sleep’s sweet embrace.
This night, indeed, was one of those nights. It was also an unfortunate coincidence for such a thing to happen as Hector was quite unhappy to have been left alone. Vergil's shifts were already long, and for whatever reason, this day in particular had hit the young elf hard emotionally. He wanted little more than the companionship of the other vampyre, fears closing in on him that somehow, he'd wake up only to have his life smashed to pieces again.
Irrational, maybe, but if he said he was worried about Zaichaer abstractly being destroyed by a massive Dread Rift, people would have said that that was irrational, too. Such a thing was preposterous and such a low chance of happening! Why worry? And so now, his mind would run itself in circles, ruminating about ruination that didn't make sense or likely wouldn't happen, but Hector couldn't stop himself. These intrusive thoughts swirled around in his head in a vortex most vicious.
On this particular night, however, instead of mass destruction, his mind was worried about something much smaller, albeit still devastating on a personal level for the mage. He worried Vergil would not return that night, and if he didn't, that he wouldn't return the next morning, or the next day, or ever, for that matter, and then that he would never even find out or be told about his beloved companion's fate. Either that, or he'd come to learn the man died in circumstances most terrible. Hector couldn't help himself. These thoughts, for whatever reason, began to creep in shortly after the older man left for work that day. Without class or anything else, he didn't have anything that required his presence, and while he did his level best to distract himself, every few hours he'd feel his stomach drop and the paranoia would grace him with its poisonous presence.
As time ticked by, these thoughts became more frequent, and by the time the sun had set, his anxiety levels had risen to a point that he felt nauseous. He just…he knew he was being ridiculous, but he just wanted to see Vergil, to know he was okay. Unable to silence his mind, he figured he should just go to sleep. His friend would be back by the time he awoke, he told himself, and all would be well. The only problem with that is he had trouble both falling and staying asleep.
Hector's heart beat heavy in his chest, thoughts lost in the mire of his worry. Eventually, he did manage to calm himself enough to find some rest, only to wake up about two hours later and still be alone. However, the unfortunate part about that is that at that point, Vergil's shift was over. Looking at the clock in their living space, the older vampyre should've been home by now. Why wasn't he…?? Was he okay? And so, his anxiety was reignited and stoked the flames of his worry.
However, one must remember that on some nights, it was not abnormal for Vergil to be late. Hector knew this…but even so, it was of little solace for one so distraught and lacking in patience. All of this, of course, was due to the little elf not having developed any good coping mechanisms for when overwhelmed and then being handed piles upon piles of emotional baggage over his short life, a large portion of which had been dumped upon him that Searing.
He really just…wanted to sleep. Hector wanted to close his eyes and when they reopened, he wanted to get up and see Vergil sitting in the living room, perhaps asleep in his bed, anything, really. He just wanted to see him, nothing else. He was unable to quell his emotions, in truth, and eventually broke down. In some ways, this was a relief, as it tired him just well enough that he managed to fall asleep again.
By the time Vergil returned home, it was some time between midnight and the witching hour, he didn’t quite know and he didn’t bother to check. In this case, the reason for his lateness wasn’t anything official or work related– rather, he’d stayed out with a friend for a while thinking nothing of it. Which, in reality, was fair; Hector’s reaction was an irrational sort of trauma response that’s difficult to predict. But over the course of the conversation he’d had with this friend of his, he’d managed to settle some choice concerns and a few doubts that had been plaguing him all this time since he’d arrived in the Imperium. He felt…a lot better about certain things regarding himself and his situation, at peace with his emotions more so than he had been before.
That being the case, he turned toward Hector’s room instead of his own after he’d gotten ready to sleep, nestling in beside the cocooned little elf. The motion and weight of his embrace woke him, though only slightly, resulting in a sort of delirious state. Surrounded by the heat of another, the younger vampyre was confused for a few seconds as his perception registered the soft texture of skin against his back. For a moment, he thought this was just a different shade of dream, but no…he had awoken in the arms of the man he’d missed so very much. Vergil was not oblivious to the shifting tensions in the boy’s musculature. Though he had tried not to, he realized he woke the other up.
Placing a gentle kiss against the top of the elf’s head, “I hope I didn’t worry you too much…” words barely more than a murmur.
Exhaling a sigh, tired and half drunk, he did mean this. Vergil was well aware of how damaged the boy had become since they took refuge from Zaichaer and also just how attached to him he was. In response, Hector’s body tensed, not wanting to admit just how upset he’d truly gotten. He thought it to be…embarrassing, really. The silence and the way he’d bristled himself did key the older of the two into the fact that he had worried him, though not to what degree. But regardless of what degree, he still felt the weight of guilt as it formed in his chest.
“Is…there anything I can do for you, love? I can feel the anxiety you hold…” he spoke sweetly, gentle and low.
Hector’s breath caught for just a moment at the pet name. Did he mean that…?
“I…just…” words caught in his mouth, “...holding me is…is enough.”
“Are you sure…? I can do much more to make it up to you if you’d like,” affection and the slightest threads of teasing woven into a voice of velvet.
Hector’s chest tightened, what did he mean? There were…options, but he didn’t want to delude himself with wishful thinking and be wrong. Had he finally made up his mind about them being lovers?
As if to illustrate better what he meant, Vergil drifted one of his hands down to the demure elf’s abdomen, just below his hips and ever so gently drew little circles with his fingertips. Hector squirmed, a tremor running through his legs in response. He very much wanted what the other was hinting at, but all the same, he was still terribly anxious about asking or even suggesting his desires.
“Yes..?”
“I…I…um…yes but…m-maybe…later…?” waking up to something so unexpected, he was feeling quite a bit overwhelmed.
Vergil sighed into a smile; Hector’s bashfulness was so very cute…and he was a patient man, so waiting didn’t bother him, much as his desires had been stirred in the moment. Kissing the elf’s head again, he tightened his grip, pulling the smaller man as close to him as he could. Hector relaxed…the other vampyre’s embrace was something he often found every inch of himself craving; he felt at home like this.
“Of course, I am nothing if not patient…” Vergil’s voice stayed sweet, though this time more loving.
Twined together, it didn’t take long for both men to fall into sleep’s sweet embrace.
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Aidolon Speech
'Thoughts'
"Kathalan Tongue/Speech"
"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"
"Common Tongue/Speech"
"Mythrasi Tongue/Speech"
