Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy

How quickly the Italian Prince had learned that his newfound station in life did not come without its fair share of...difficulties. The very moment his proposal to Dorian had been announced to the world, newspapers were filled with women and men alike sharing intimate details of trysts that Sebastian had, admittedly, largely forgotten of entirely. How eager past lovers had become to reignite a relationship with the newly crowned royal and yet, how disinterested the Englishman had become, in turn, of those easy couplings and easier feedings. He had, admittedly, become jaded in the year since his marriage, the vampire well aware of the likely possibility that Carolina's discovery of his identity might ruin the enjoyment he took of those evenings he so walked the line of all he shouldn't do. How might she take advantage of all he could offer her? Of all he already had given her? He was entirely purposeful in his effort to turn the conversation away from himself, the usually verbose Englishman entirely to the point before he inquired as to why she was so far from her relatively new flat within the West. That scoff upon her sweetheart lips, however, prompted a small hint of a simper within the very corners of the Prince's lips. 'Swanky' was certainly antithetical to what life in the Western docks consisted of and yet, in comparison to the car she had once lived in, Sebastian was certain it was enough of a palace.

His brow arched ever so slightly as Carolina insisted that he, at the very least, should know what had prompted her presence within the still humid dance club underfoot. Her slender fingers roved over her skin in a manner that the Incubus found altogether distracting, even if it was just to comfort herself from the darkened thoughts that so clearly lingered heavily upon her mind. Sebastian hardly anticipated those soprano introspective words from the young woman, the vampire entirely capable of resonating with that very need for a diversion from the harshness of reality. He was strikingly inattentive, at that moment, to the work of Carolina's affinity. Those barriers that had once so quickly risen at the very utterance of his full name were slowly softening, evidenced by the soft chuckle upon his lips. He had forgotten, admittedly, how easy it was to lose himself within Carolina, to revert back to his casanova tendencies. The turquoise of her gaze turned back towards him, meeting the crystalline hue of his own irises. She was...lovely, with that hint of vulnerability tucked behind that small sheepish smile. His head dipped in a small nod of agreement, "I have lived several lifetimes in various pubs." He admitted, his English lit altogether audible as Carolina's capabilities only furthered those so often tightly held inhibitions - his British accent but one of the many things Sebastian so often purposefully altered.

"If you are running from something then, Carolina, I wonder why you always seem to run into me...?" He inquired, his eyebrow rose almost inquisitively as the Incubus finally crossed that distance to place his own beverage upon the young woman's table. "...and not back into there...?" Sebastian nodded briefly towards the cracked door of the dance club, the loud reverberating bass audible even up on the club's rooftop terrace. How that very sound so promised the very reprieve that Carolina was seeking - to lose herself within alcohol, in music, in the sway of nameless bodies all moving with her in time to that beat. How long it had been since Sebastian had been one of those men, stalking amongst the shadows of those loud, noisy clubs for prey just like her. In a different city, at a different time, they would have been destiny - like two wayward stars on a collision path. But now? Why did she still linger now that she knew just how unobtainable he was?