could you imagine the taste of your lips50.125.73.18Posted On December 03, 2017 at 12:44 PM by SEBASTIAN ELLINGTON

sebastian ellington

His hand fit with a measure of easy confidence into Troy's own, the man entirely unaware of the fae's previous discontent with his own race or the mistrust that lingered deep within him. Rather, that pleasant simper remained steady upon his features as he commented idly of his hope that what Troy had heard were primarily good things, particularly when the Englishman found himself so often at odds with those individuals Dorian took as companions. That assurance from his fiance that such things were certainly nothing short of exceptional, mixed with Troy's own agreement prompted a warm chuckle from the Englishman. "I'm glad to hear that." He commented, his free hand moved to settle upon Dorian's waist in a gesture of affection, the man seemingly incapable of not touching the fae he so adored in even the most minute of fashions. Even so, those bright blue eyes turned towards Amelia as the woman rejoined the group with glasses in hand. He accepted that outstretched glass, the man content to sip on that luxurious wine whilst Dorian commented upon that rather miraculous pregnancy. He was well aware of Dorian's intention to utilize that affinity for life upon the young woman, that rather abrupt pause within that usually fluid speech caused his own gaze to shift towards the Monarch at his side.

For all the time that Sebastian had spent at his fiance's side, he had never quite heard the eloquent King pause in such a fashion. He could only assume of what Dorian had seen, even as the Italian fae made every effort to inquire after that pregnancy in an attempt to cover that subtle mishap. The Englishman hardly anticipated that admittance of how short the pair's relationship had been thus far. Although Sebastian and his own wife had never been blessed with a child, he knew enough to know that Amelia appeared far further along than a mere five months. He dared not to voice the first consideration that crossed his thoughts - that perhaps Troy was not the father at all. Though surely they had to have considered that probability, no? Those blue eyes shifted briefly towards Troy as the fae announced their relationship seemed far longer than that. At the very least such was a sentiment that he understood well enough. After all, he had only had Dorian within his life for not much longer than a year and a half and already he found himself wondering how he had lived over two hundred years without the King.

His attention refocused upon his lover's inquiries of names for the child, the vampire entirely pleased to mere sip upon that wine within his glass at that talk of their child, at least, until Amelia seemed quite determined to direct that conversation to himself. That warm simper settled once again upon his features, "Well enough. We've been busy with the wedding and the like." He commented, though the wedding planner took care of most of the details, there were still decisions to be made that often required some level of agonizing over. His gaze shifted towards the man at his side at that announcement of their own rather recent adoption. He could hardly help that chuckle on his lips as he nodded in agreement, simply watching as Dorian pulled that cellphone from his pocket. He was well aware of that small energetic puppy that Dorian pulled up on his screen, Maxwell was perhaps the closest thing to a child the pair would ever have and yet, how they both relished in that dog. That grin once again danced upon his features before he nodded, "They grow up so fast."

He hardly expected that light that began to sparkle within his vision, and yet, the man made every effort to appear unaffected by that sudden change to his vision. At the very least he knew well what that ability was, the light that clung to Dorian's figure was almost a delight to see. It silly, the joy he took from being so utterly certain of that simple life within the man. His gaze turned slowly towards Troy, afforded that same glimpse of color only to turn to that far near non-existent light that surrounded Amelia, one he knew was also lacking in himself. That void of luminosity around Amelia's stomach only served to inform him of his correctness in that assumption he had made all that time ago. Amelia's child was dead. His hand tightened around Dorian's waist, that action was meant to be a wholly discrete fashion of telling his lover that he both saw what he saw and understood exactly what Dorian was trying to show him.


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