Admittedly, there were many aspects of this life after death that Sebastian found himself perpetually hung within that he disliked. His condemnation to the few fleeting hours the sun hid her face from the horizon was perhaps the biggest of slights upon his life. It meant that evenings with lovers could hardly be cherished as they surely should have been, instead pushing him from beds to ensure he was tucked away in the safety of his own sanctuary before the sun seared the flesh from his body. In truth, he'd found very few that he trusted with his own vulnerability between those few hours, the vampire having long since learned that those feelings he infected others with were entirely short-lived and even then - love itself often drove some to such extents that murder was hardly irreproachable. Not when it included merely pulling back the blinds. Still, leaving Dorian had been entirely regrettable for the vampire. Somehow, this parting had tugged at the man far more than he had anticipated. He remembered well what it had been like to waken alone their first night after, with only the reminiscence of the taste of Dorian's skin on his lips. A part of him fiercely disliked subjecting the fairy to the same sensation and yet - he had particularly little choice. Although Dorian himself had proved worthy, thus far, of Sebastian's trust. Any other inhabitants of the home surely had not. And so, in the same way that he so habitually did, Sebastian returned to that empty hotel room to nestle in his equally lonely of sheets before dawn unfolded and his own inevitable re-death once again occurred.

The vampire's life consisted so often of this same routine to various degrees. He awoke, bathed, clothed, found his way into some bar where he occupied himself with some soul long enough to satisfy those hunger pangs and sexual needs before he filled what decidedly few hours summer permitted him with whatever else caught his fancy.Lately, such fancies consisted entirely of houses. Sebastian had hardly lied when he admitted that it had been quite a long time since he had seen fit to decorate a home. Much less have one. In fact, he had owned exactly one beyond his family's estate for but a short time with a woman nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. The housing market had certainly changed since then. And yet, venturing into such an unfamiliar realm was hardly displeasing for the vampire. Something - no, rather, his peculiar fondness for someone, was enough to make the vampire consider the possibility of perhaps sticking around more then the hotel would accommodate him. Although he paid well for his boarding and the comforts provided him, the witch that owned the refined establishment was always keen to inform him she didn't prefer long term guests. At the end of the day, however, she still accepted his money and he still lingered.

It was the evening of such a venture in which Sebastian found himself stopped by the calling of one the front desk clerks, seeing him pause only to have an envelope given to him with his name handwritten so neatly onto it's surface. The vampire had glanced over it, noting the carnation upon the other side with a hint of inquisitiveness before he stepped into the car of the housing agent. Sebastian must have read the letter three times that evening as they made their way towards the numerous houses she had wished to show him. He'd stared intently at the intricate drawings that were far more elegant than his own century's invitations required. In a way, he had been awed by the work and care that he had clearly seen impressed upon the invitation. And although Sebastian would certainly never mention it to a single soul, for the rest of the night and the homes that had passed before his gaze, Sebastian had found himself unable to deny himself the idle daydreams of what it might be like to have Dorian in each of those homes.

Nevertheless, a few days and nearly a dozen and a half homes later and Sebastian found himself entirely anticipatory of what this night might hold for him. If he was at all capable, he would have found sleeping nigh impossible. Except that Sebastian had little choice in the matter. For a bit, it followed the same routine - bathing so he smelled as delectable as he always did, his neck lightly scented with a cologne that smelled so uniquely him. His clothing was chosen with particular care - preferring what elegance modern clothing could provide him. After all, nothing else would do for an audience with a king. Gingerly he toyed with the collar of his shirt, ensuring that he was the picture of perfection with Dorian's own coin tucked neatly under his clothing. The medallion hung closely against his heart on finely crafted white gold chain around his neck - nearly entirely unnoticeable against his already pale skin. Still, one last glance was given over his appearance before Sebastian turned, leaving the mirror and his room behind him. The vampire made his way through the hallways, unable to deny the butterflies that fluttered within his stomach. It was curious, this effect that Dorian had upon him. It was an effect that only one other individual had even the slightest ability to manufacture within him what Dorian could with just the simplest of pieces of paper. A few moments later, however, and the man stepped into the lobby, glancing but briefly at the front desk clerk who stumbled over his name as she said her good evenings. The vampire offered her but the slightest of nods, the blue of his gaze had already found the form of the individual he had so wanted to see and in that simple moment, Dorian managed to absorb all of his attention.

Casually, Sebastian approached his companion, offering the seated Dorian a slight bow that was entirely required of their respected positions. After all, they were very much within the public eye and as of such, some graces were required of him until his companion said otherwise. Still, Sebastian still wore that same warm simper upon his masculine features as his distinctly English tone spoke, "Good evening, my King, I hope I haven't kept you waiting long." There was perhaps a decided gaiety that still somehow managed to etch itself upon his navy irises, the vampire perhaps in far better spirits than etiquette permitted. After all, within his time very little of any of the emotional variety was allowed beyond the unwavering tranquility that Sebastian had so long ago mastered. Some social rituals, Sebastian had learned, were meant to be broken and this was one the modern day surely blew through.