Alucard's head rose slightly upon hearing that. His cold, liquid gold and brow knit into a sad expression. Everyone was to judge, he had received nothing but judgement since the day of his birth, whether it be directed at him or his family. To hear words with such gravitas so idly spoken pained him greatly. What a shame, his subconscious whispered, that there had not been more men like him in his homeland years ago.
As Dorian continued to extend his kindness, with wounding talk of help and a healer, it only seemed to quicken the poison's affects. Physical attraction heightened his desire, but add to that an attraction that went deeper, to something personal, and Alucard couldn't hold back.
The poison moved across his brain like a fungus, constricting all centres of reason and rationality until all that functioned were basic needs and wants. It worked as if it were a hallucinogenic. When he looked at Dorian he could've sworn that he saw him in a different light. A backlit, deified silhouette, showing more skin than before, open and relaxed where he stood with... what looked like an ethereal white python recumbent around his shoulders. An offering.
The tight grip of his fingers on his forearms suddenly relaxed with a soft grunt. He couldn't resist the cocktail of drugs in his system or Dorian. Together they were a targeted attack that he just didn't have the strength to beat.
He stared at him for a moment, the retina of his eyes catching the light, giving the impression that they were glowing red. ]
Heh, a healer--[ He echoed, reside to his fate. Sentence midway he moved with a preternatural speed. The gap between Dorian and himself closed in seconds and his hands snapped firmly around the necromancer's wrists. Another second passes and those fine, warm, blood-filled wrists are pinned to a wall above Dorian's head. Alucard finishes his sentence, morose and famished. ]--there are no healers for my ailment.
[ At this proximity it's likely that Dorian may notice a set of vampire's canines in Alucard's mouth. And for Alucard? The desire he had felt from a distance is amplified a hundred fold. ]
Why... didn't you leave?
[ He pleads, leaning in as he tightens the grip on Dorian's wrists (tighter, but certainly not painful at this stage). Alucard's mouth is millimeters from Dorian's neck and he breathes in the scent of him. It's obvious at this stage what he wants. ]
... Parchment. [ He whispers against that taut skin, so cruelly cutting him off from his satiation. ] Midnight candles and smuggled pastries from a loved one... Th--the sun and life. [ His lips part... ]
no subject
Alucard's head rose slightly upon hearing that. His cold, liquid gold and brow knit into a sad expression. Everyone was to judge, he had received nothing but judgement since the day of his birth, whether it be directed at him or his family. To hear words with such gravitas so idly spoken pained him greatly. What a shame, his subconscious whispered, that there had not been more men like him in his homeland years ago.
As Dorian continued to extend his kindness, with wounding talk of help and a healer, it only seemed to quicken the poison's affects. Physical attraction heightened his desire, but add to that an attraction that went deeper, to something personal, and Alucard couldn't hold back.
The poison moved across his brain like a fungus, constricting all centres of reason and rationality until all that functioned were basic needs and wants. It worked as if it were a hallucinogenic. When he looked at Dorian he could've sworn that he saw him in a different light. A backlit, deified silhouette, showing more skin than before, open and relaxed where he stood with... what looked like an ethereal white python recumbent around his shoulders. An offering.
The tight grip of his fingers on his forearms suddenly relaxed with a soft grunt. He couldn't resist the cocktail of drugs in his system or Dorian. Together they were a targeted attack that he just didn't have the strength to beat.
He stared at him for a moment, the retina of his eyes catching the light, giving the impression that they were glowing red. ]
Heh, a healer--[ He echoed, reside to his fate. Sentence midway he moved with a preternatural speed. The gap between Dorian and himself closed in seconds and his hands snapped firmly around the necromancer's wrists. Another second passes and those fine, warm, blood-filled wrists are pinned to a wall above Dorian's head. Alucard finishes his sentence, morose and famished. ]--there are no healers for my ailment.
[ At this proximity it's likely that Dorian may notice a set of vampire's canines in Alucard's mouth. And for Alucard? The desire he had felt from a distance is amplified a hundred fold. ]
Why... didn't you leave?
[ He pleads, leaning in as he tightens the grip on Dorian's wrists (tighter, but certainly not painful at this stage). Alucard's mouth is millimeters from Dorian's neck and he breathes in the scent of him. It's obvious at this stage what he wants. ]
... Parchment. [ He whispers against that taut skin, so cruelly cutting him off from his satiation. ] Midnight candles and smuggled pastries from a loved one... Th--the sun and life. [ His lips part... ]