His bright sterling gaze so continued to linger upon that all-too delicate red thread that interwove the length of Sebastian's fingers as the vampire so sought to explain the nature of his affinity. Dorian had never truly heard of a power such as this before, the very notion of what Sebastian might command at his very fingertips was near mystifying to the man. How great the wealth of responsibility a power such as this might hold! At least, if Sebastian so chose to indulge within his gift. People fought and died for love. Cities had fallen for love. Love- as Dorian was so rapidly learning- was a truly astounding emotion. Yet here he lay with a man so capable of watching over the love of others and with knowing too, just whom they might be bound too in that all too sacred and yet illusive of relationships. That of soulmates. The very being for whom one lived for. It is the soft simper upon his lover's lips and those affectionate words of assurance that so see Dorian's previous hesitations vanish as his fingers extend gently forward once more. He allows the very tip of his fingers to stroke that red thread, feeling it so carefully if only for his understanding and indeed his very respect for what it surely represented. How like a regular thread it felt and yet even the Fae King can feel the strength within those red ties.

Sebastian's affirmation that he did, at least for now, see those red ties of fate everywhere he looked saw the softest of frowns touch Dorian's own features. How difficult it must be to so ignore those threads. Did he not wonder of them? Desire to follow them? Did he not ever seek to pull those lovers whom lingered so close together or tell them of their soul? Yet- for all he knew of Sebastian's temperament, Dorian is assured perhaps, that it is not within the man's nature to meddle. The vampire, he thinks, is not as himself in this. Sebastian far more inclined to simply let be and in that very knowledge the Fae King is assured that his lover is perhaps a truly exceptional choice for such a gift. The softest of simpers tracing his lips at this consideration though he hardly utters his thoughts to his companion on how fitting such a talent. His ever-observant gaze falls then upon Sebastian's own pinkie finger and the gentle knot tied around it, the vampire turning his hand to so better provide Dorian with a view of that alluring thread. Those silver-hued eyes meet the ardent blue of his lovers own as the vampire so confirms what Dorian had readily deduced- that this thread was Sebastian's own. The hand not so nestled within Sebastian's hair extends yet again to so caress that soft thread with a renewed touch of affection. How intimate such a gesture seemed and yet with that very realisation of just what he held within his fingertips so came a tightness within his chest.

He was so unaware of how poorly he had perhaps concealed his concern in this- or too that his own desire to so prevent his worries afflicting his companion had perhaps only caused Sebastian some distress in turn. How glorious such a power was and yet this knowledge that Sebastian might be so fated to another was almost painful to him. Fate was a truly potent thing, a force far larger then himself, something he could not contest and yet the very truth of the matter so existed. There was but one single soulmate for each being within the world and there was surely another so designed for his own lover. One Sebastian could so chose to find, he supposed, at any moment- though Dorian finds he trusts in that commitment they had made to one another all the same. Yet, Dorian himself was near six hundred years old, more than twice the age of his companion. Did fate wait that long? Did fate transcend centuries? He had, within all his life, never felt near so strongly about another as he did the very man within his lap and yet perhaps this is the very reason why such a notion so stung all the more. How silly and frivolous he surely was to have believed he might truly have had this man all to himself. That soft frown that had taken up place upon Sebastian's own features was missed in that moment. A sign, surely, of his own distraction as he so released his hold upon that delicate thread.

Another question, it seemed, had taken place within his thoughts. Dorian's hands lifting now to examine his own fingers. If Sebastian had a soulmate, did he too have one? Or perhaps- he was simply too old. Perhaps his own had died several lifetimes ago, did it work in such a fashion? Yet maybe it hardly mattered as to the answer, his gaze falling briefly upon Sebastian once more, the Fae unable to prevent that soft lift of his own lips. He had already made his own choice. His silvery gaze so follows the vampires own as the man's fingers reach up to pluck at the string Dorian hardly knew existed, bringing it so suddenly to light as Dorian's own gaze widens abruptly in simple awe of its existence. How bizarre it was to see that thread hanging from his own finger! Several words of surprise fall softly from his lips in the faintest of Italian lyrics, his free hand moving to brush over his own thread now before an entirely quizzical expression touches his features, eyes cast downward.

".....but this thread of mine, it goes only to your sheets?"

He had anticipated, perhaps, that it might travel away from him, Dorian having already decided he hardly intended to follow it and yet this made little sense to his mind. The Fae shifts slightly, moving gently from beneath Sebastian to pull himself into a kneeling position, attempting to follow that thread that seemed to tangle about him and within the sheets itself. It was decidedly longer then he had anticipated, Dorian working diligently to detangle himself and too- the sheets it seemed interwoven in, his curiosity demanding this of him in the least. It is only after he has circled the bed at least once in its entirety that he so manages to tug on something tangible at the end. How little sense this all made! Dorian moves easily then to follow those last few inches, gaze held on the thread alone until he finds it so abruptly ended- at the knot upon Sebastian's own finger.

"....but...I..."

The shock upon his features is so evidently clear, Dorian shuffling back a moment until the entirety of that red thread rests between them- that connection from his finger to Sebastian's own, that bond, so strikingly clear now as Dorian simply continues to stare at it for several moments as every fear and worry and concern from but moments ago so seems to evaporate and his gaze so finally meets Sebastian's own once more. His voice entirely soft.

"It's you."

There is a decided emotion to his voice that even Dorian so cannot place, those accented lyrics thick with it all the same before the Fae moves abruptly forward to so throw his arms about the vampires neck in perhaps the most blatant display of emotion the man has ever truly shown. Oh how he relished this perhaps far more than any moment within his existence so far! Dorian merely holding his lover to himself for a moment or so, pulling back ever so slightly to so allow the vampire to see that utterly dazzling grin that so adorns his features and those gently whispered words that follow.

"I have been waiting five hundred and sixty one years to find you."

It is the first time the Fae has ever admitted his exact age to anyone and yet here and now he hardly cares- his lips pressing to Sebastian's own with every bit of love and affection and elation he could so muster for his soulmate. Dorian relishing in this single moment. His fingers so entwine with Sebastian's own atop that bed sheet, lifting their hands upward now- that bright, gleaming red thread so entangled between their fingers and about their hands as Dorian very near rests within Sebastian's lap now- that grin still in place as an inquisitive look finds him once more.

"Bastien, what is the word for us? If we are for each other alone, we do not sleep with any but each other, if we are so committed in this way- is there a word for this? I think it does not exist to my knowledge of words. We are like lovers but more, like courting but more. Maybe it is boyfriends? I have heard this but I do not know modern words like you do. Is there one, for us?"

If there was a word then Dorian should surely like to afford some title of meaning to his lover. One that perhaps others might understand. Even if soulmate- he thinks, might be the grandest title of them all.

Dorian Aragona