you were the answer to my dreams

There was a clear level of inquisitiveness upon the vampire's features as he opened that box, so plucking the sunglasses from the depths of that box, entirely confused on Dorian's intent with such a thing. Life, much less meeting the sun, was something Sebastian had never stopped to even so much as fathom. He was resigned, in a way, to this curse he had been afflicted with. There was no point in so foolishly hoping that he might be given even the slightest glimpse of that life that had so been so harshly and cruelly taken from him. He was oblivious, in those moments, of the life that was so thrust upon him - his lungs still expanded in that same habitual fashion that it did prior to his death. His heart still beat with that same rhythmic thud and yet, there was no doubt that there was a color about his skin that he had otherwise been lacking. Not to mention that dazzling state of those blue eyes that, often, could only be achieved from taking enough blood to so cause death in his victim. In that sweet moment, the Englishman looked every bit the man he had been all those centuries ago, even if he wasn't aware in the slightest of that miracle that so flooded his system.

What the vampire was aware of, in those moments, was his own companion's clear silence on the topic, his attention clearly withdrawn into whatever thoughts so ran rampant through his mind and yet, regardless, Sebastian saw fit to so thank his lover for what he had been given and for the wishes Dorian had so bestowed upon him, even if he hadn't the slightest idea the true depths of what this present so consisted of. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as the King offered him that softened gaze, the man all too aware of those fingertips gently resting upon his own. He felt Dorian's fingers intertwined with his own before the man reached up to take those sunglasses he held. Sebastian was willing enough to part with them, his gaze instead shifting to those features that looked so utterly contemplative in that moment. The vampire's own lips pressed together ever so slightly as his lover began to speak, his head bobbing at the mention of that affinity they had discovered in the depths of that corn maze during their particularly dramatic Halloween adventure. Since then, he knew well Dorian had been putting for measurable effort to so practice, hone, and further that skill though he had, perhaps, not considered the true applications of such a power prior to this very moment.

The implications of what Dorian so suggested he might be capable of was hardly lost upon the vampire, his gaze slowly shifting from his lover as he considered those simple words and what they so meant for Sebastian himself. There was no denying that the vampire was very much dead. He had been little more than a magically dancing corpse for far longer than he could ever hold a candle to those mortal years he so deeply treasured. To so bring something like him back to life surely was not as easy as the reblooming of a flower, much less as permanent. It was that shift of his hand that so drew his attention back to his lover then, the vampire instantly aware of that luminousness that Dorian so allowed him to see, that soft, yellow glow that so designated him as one who now walked alongside the other races. Him. A being that was alive. For a moment, Sebastian simply stared at that light, and in turn their intertwined hands, his features nearly a blank slate entirely after centuries of such practiced concealment.

Sebastian was hardly oblivious to that hint of emotion that so laced his lover's words, it's presence alone an entirely inquisitive thing and, if it were not for the topic of this miracle of sorts, would have captured the entirety of his attention. As it was now, however, his eyebrows merely knit together once again as he watched his lover, listening with that same persistent silence as Dorian so finally spoke of exactly what this gift so consisted of. Two hours in daylight. For a moment, he simply watched the King before those bright blue eyes fluttered again towards that window and the hues that were only just beginning to drift over the horizon. Slowly, the vampire rose, pausing to stand before those opened curtains to so stare at those hues. Usually, that sight alone was enough to send him scurrying back under the warm comfort of his sheets, so giving himself into that death that inevitably followed. Now, however he found himself simply considering how truly long it had been since he'd seen a real sunrise, not to mention a real sunset. How long had it been since he'd felt the sun on his skin? Did he even really remember what it'd felt like? To even look upon it?

Still, it was those words that were meant to inspire courage that saw the vampire's gaze return to the fae Monarch, a small frown tracing his lips. Brave? What Dorian was proposing was far more than simply courage. For years the sun's existence had so murdered him on a nightly basis. It's mere presence caused exhaustion. It's touch burned him as if it was but fire itself and now he was supposed to willingly walk out into it under the promise that he would be protected by life and light. "Have you done this before?" He inquired, suddenly entirely certain that he needed to know exactly how safe he would be. "Are you sure you can do this? There is a large gap between an hour or two, Dorian." It was, after all, his very life that he was so gambling with now. A certain measure of hesitance, of preservation, was entirely required of him. He highly doubted Dorian would so opening put him in harm's way, naturally, and yet, to so venture out into that sun required more than simple bravery, it required a certain level of reassurance before he so willingly undid what nearly two hundred years of simple fear had so instilled within him.

Slowly, the vampire's gaze turned back towards that window, his fingertips reaching out to brush against that cold pane, entirely aware from touch alone of that sensation that so instantly nipped at his skin. His eyebrows furrowed once again as his gaze fell to his fingertips and softly, he inquired, "Is it very cold outside?" How he had, in all those years of his death, so despised that coldness that had wracked his frame. And yet, despite that frigidity had existed within him for so long that Sebastian had forgotten what it even so much as felt like to be cold. In fact, he had forgotten entirely all those sensations that now so threatened to come rushing back at him. "Can we go to the orangery? I think I should like to see it..." His voice continued in that quiet tone, so trailing off as he so considered that beautiful glass building that he'd once so enjoyed as a child. That greenery that existed there, that light, that life, and hell, even too that warmth. God - he'd forgotten what it felt like to feel alive.

Sebastian Ellington