you were the answer to my dreams

It was not often that Sebastian voiced even the barest of hints of the past that had long laid out behind him. He spoke not of the first of their family line who stood at his side, he avoided talk of his maker, and only once briefly mentioned even the sheer existence of his wife. Such hardships were simply buried behind him, never to be spoken of in any great detail. It was, after all, the way the Victorian court so often did things, much less the way his continued lifestyle prior to his lover had persisted. It was, perhaps, the same with his companion, the pair often avoiding such topics altogether in favor for the simple experience that life now had to offer for them. This glimpse of his past was perhaps the most open and vulnerable that Sebastian had ever been with any individual outside of those generations of servants and yet, he found quite peculiarly that he was hardly anxious at so showing Dorian this part of his world. Rather, it was an excitement of sorts that he was afflicted with. He found himself wanting to open his home to his lover, even more so at those subtle hints that Dorian felt entirely lonesome when confronted with the warmth and adoration that ran through the ranks of Sebastian's own home.

It was this knowledge of such a desolate contemplation that caused his hand to reach out ever so sweetly against Dorian's cheek, so softly reassuring him that, in the entirety of this world, Dorian now had him. He watched in silence as the fae King shifted upwards ever so slightly, just enough to press his lips into the vampire's own. Sebastian's hand shifted, settling behind Dorian's neck as he so deepened that kiss within that sweet moment. He despised that his lover might feel any kind of sadness or any such loneliness, the vampire wholly dedicated to chasing away such feelings entirely, even if it was with his kisses alone. It would have been vastly too easy to simply shift upon Dorian, to press him into that sofa and steal vastly more from his lover and yet, it was Dorian alone that so stopped him from such an activity. He could feel Dorian's breath against his lips as he pulled away ever so slightly, those sweet words bring a small simper to his own lips and softly, Sebastian found himself adding with a air of certainty that Dorian too would find a place within his makeshift family at his side.

A small simper crossed his lips at those French lyrics. It was funny in a way. He'd never thought he'd ever want any sort of family again, not after her and yet those simple words that Dorian wanted something such as that with him was enough to cause a small fluttering with his own chest. It made him pull Dorian closer ever so slightly, only just becoming aware that the King's attention had fluttered beyond himself and the contents of the room. He could tell when his lover's thoughts had shifted and yet, rather than pry, he simply waited for those thoughts to pour from Dorian's mind and on his lips. His lips pressed together ever so slightly as Dorian pulled from his grasp, standing up far too abruptly for Sebastian's liking. That sound of his nickname, however, caused his head to tilt ever so slightly and, eventually, those idle thoughts came pouring from Dorian's lips. A small grin crossed Sebastian features before he nodded ever so slightly, "Of course." He muttered, slowly rising from the sofa himself to lead his companion back to that marbled hall filled with that twinkling Christmas Tree.

It was at that entry way that he so forced his lover to pause, very near demanding Dorian done that plush, thick jacket and the entirety of that winter ensemble he had purchase for this frigid weather. The vampire himself saw to the fitting of that scarf, steadfast in his decision to ensure the cold hardly touched his companion more than necessary while he himself entirely ignore that classic trenchcoat he so often wore. It took some moments of effort and, what he was sure was more than one exasperated sigh from his lover before he allowed Dorian out that door at all and into the crisp night air. Sebastian moved with care down those steps, those arctic temperatures failing entirely to produce even the slightest reaction from his already corpse like body. He despised the cold if only for it's simple ability to impress that memory upon him that he was, indeed, dead. Fortunately, it was Dorian's curiosity alone that was a worthwhile distraction, such a reinforced thought for once failing to catch hold upon him.

Instead, Sebastian merely watched with amusement as Dorian stepped so tentatively upon the lawn, sinking into the snow itself. A grin danced upon his own features as he slowly made his way down those stairs in an entirely lackadaisical fashion, pausing at the bottom step to bend down and pick up his own handfuls of the flakey substance. His dark blue eyes shifted from his own compacting of that snow to his lover whom so delicately seemed to brush the snow in front of him, the vampire wholly remembering that this was perhaps the first time the King had ever seen such a thing. "I told you to wear gloves for a reason." He commented idly and yet, he hardly stopped Dorian from his inquisitive study of the substance. Rather, he only gathered more snow between his hands, working on his own diligent creation. That laughter that left the King's lips from such utter delight only served to bring a chuckle from the Englishman himself, his head shaking ever so slightly. "This is what rain turns into when it get's too cold, it freezes." He informed Dorian, explaining a rather detailed overview of the substance as he slowly moved to stand. "They say no single snowflake is alike any other."

He fell silent, however, as Dorian moved several steps forward, a nearly mischievous grin crossing his features in those last few moments as he so fiddled with the object in his hands. His gaze shifted towards Dorian, eying the man's back before commenting in response, "I suppose then I'll have to show you all the things you can do with snow, hm?" He inquired, taking that snowball in one hand before, in a far weaker gesture then he was certainly capable of, letting that snowball he had so carefully compacted fly towards the King's back. He'd taken care, naturally, to ensure such a throw hardly hurt in any fashion, after all, what fun was a snowball fight if the first throw was the most painful thing ever? Hell - when was the last time Sebastian found himself simply playing with his lover? Better yet - when was the last time Dorian himself had ever done something nearly as childish as this? And yet, despite the newness of this all, Sebastian found that in that moment, he had utterly no regrets.

Sebastian Ellington