The Sun Also Rises

It was not often that Dorian found himself within the Witchery. After all, the name itself was distinctly off-putting to the man. Were it not for the particularly pleasant memories such a place held he was assured he should never come here at all. As it was however, he had so managed to befriend the young woman whom worked several evenings a week at the reception desk. The very woman whom had, before his discovery of mobile phones, so dutifully delivered his letters to Sebastian when the vampire had taken up residence here. Since his companion had long since purchased his own home within the Heights his visits to the hotel had lessened to but the occasional evening spent in the company of Rebecca. She blushed furiously still every time he held her gaze for but that minute to long and despite her knowing well his affections belonged firmly to another. She was young all the same, good conversation and good company, Dorian so rarely knowing at all what she was talking about when she told him of college applications and car payments and rent. These things still beyond his understanding of the modern world and yet he enjoyed her idle chatter. The wholly nocturnal Fae having taken to finding time every other week to joining her at the end of her shift for a coffee he never drank and a plate of biscuits she continued to offer him that he never touched. Food had long since lost its appeal to him. It was human nature to eat. Dorian having long since lost interest in it save for the occasional treat he found himself curious enough to taste or when Sebastian so insisted on it in some effort to better help him heal from the vampires feeding.

It was only after Rebecca had said her goodbyes- the Fae King so reminding her for the umpteenth time that she need not refer to him as 'Your Majesty' despite the hotel staff, all of them, continuing to do just that- that Dorian found himself leaning back within the café chair. The silver of his gaze lifted towards that window, the sky rapidly growing dark and yet before it did it so painted that twilight sky with a myriad of colours. Red and pink and gold and a faint blue he had painted a thousand times over and yet, even with his gifts, he was assured he never captured it just right. The soft sound of another being, one he had not yet noticed saw his head turn gently to the side, silver eyes resting upon the vampire several tables over sipping at his cup of coffee with a clear disdain. Ah! But he had seen that look before so many times over. The faintest of chuckles stirs within his throat before Dorian moves to stand at last. Casting his jacket over his shoulder as he does, hands returned to the pockets of his fitted jeans. Dorian so at last having come to discover the joy of tailor made clothing. He pauses but briefly at the other end of the vampires table, they the only two within that café now save for the staff themselves, his lyrics offered with that distinctly Italian accent and yet too, a dialect long since forgotten by time. Much like himself.

"Ah, Mio Amico, you need not suffer with this coffee if it causes you that much distress. I know that look. There is a restaurant but several blocks over that so specialises in serving your species, it is new, but I have been there several times myself. Most everything on that menu, including their coffee, is made more to your tastes. It is animal blood but it might yet be more appealing than that."

He gestures loosely then to the coffee nestled within the other man's hands. Dorian, for the first time, allowing his gaze to so properly view the vampire seated at that table. His features frown slightly in contemplation a moment before a recognition of sorts seems to dawn within him.

"Do you know, I think I know you? That is to say, we have not met but I spent some time at a gala event you held some months back. I had a terrible time of it too. Your guards- er- no, this is not the word. Your, how you say, security?-"

He pauses, briefly, searching for some recognition that is the correct modern word before continuing.

"-were very helpful though. Did such an evening prove to be worth your time all the same?"

There is a soft, simple and yet decidedly aged eloquence to each word. The Monarch's inquiry nothing short of polite in turn, the man dismissing his own troubles he had found that evening to merely inquiry as to the success of it all the same. He understood politics. Perhaps better than most and while he understood little of the ranking system of the cities hierarchy he was hardly fool enough not to understand that such an event was held with purpose. Dorian content to inquire as to whether that had been achieved, an easy smile resting upon his ever-youthful features.

Dorian Aragona