Sebastian Ellington

I thought you knew I was filthy rich
I thought you knew I never answer my phone
I thought you knew I was a late night with a bad bite I thought you knew.

Sebastian could hardly deny that fate was most certainly in play that evening. There were such intricacies that had to occur in order for those three men to had wandered down that alley way that evening. Sebastian himself certainly could have gone without attending, William could have simply not forgiven him, John could have seen him ushered from the premises of that party, the three could have stayed there longer or left sooner. Any number of factors certainly could have been altered to see the trio not there at all. And yet, knowing all he did now, there was little he perhaps might have changed. In a manner of speaking, his death had very much been a necessity. Certainly his turning could have gone smoother or his maker present in those months when that bloodlust had controlled every aspect of his waking life - but either way, there was a point within his death. Had Anna-Marie not lost her mind, had he not been turned, Dorian would have been left to live out the entirety of that world alone. After so many years of isolation within the palace, surely his lover deserved to have someone within his life. Truthfully, Sebastian could not trust that the cruelty of fate would not have done far worse for his lover then himself. It was silly, really, to find comfort in the existence of that violence that had been perpetrated if only for the manner that it had all so gotten him here. The entirety of his life, it seemed, had become forfeit to the Italian King. Every minute bit of purpose within him devoted to that man at his side, even if Dorian made such a noteworthy effort to attempt to subdue those guilts that still afflicted him in all those others that had been forced to suffer alongside of him.

The vampire offered particularly little in a way of response to his boyfriend - even he was incapable of disagreeing with that assurance. Nor did he make any further efforts to so insist his efforts to apologize were necessary. Instead, the man's attention was fully focused upon that soft though, perhaps entirely obvious request for reassurance. Although he suspected Dorian had little intention to leave him, he could not fully quiet that little voice deep within him that so intently informed him that, surely, this would end up becoming too much for the fae King. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow night, but how long could they truly avoid his maker and her games? How truly long could Dorian put up with that connection he was so bound to? That nervousness within him was surely quite clear to his lover, thanks to that golden ring upon his finger and yet, the genteel kiss upon his cheek so quickly served to quell those quivering uncertainties, much less those words of his intention to remain with him for all eternity, even in spite of all of this. He could not help that desire that had so settled within him to simply retire with the fae King to the bedroom upstairs - the man yearning for those closeness, for that feeling of skin on skin without necessarily desiring those usual sexual urges. It was that mere closeness to the King he needed, that clinginess - and yet, there were more stories that still needed to be told and more the vampire was required to admit to.

If he was going to get through tonight, it was hardly be without several liberal glasses of alcohol. Those emotions that were so required of him were difficult for the man to speak of, even to his boyfriend. His very culture for so long had declared admitting to such problems a social faux-pas. They were required to appear the epitome of perfect within the public eye. That marriage with his wife only surely further cementing his tendencies to keep such difficulties to himself if only for the many verbal spars they had so frequently engaged within, much less the pain that Sebastian had so caused her upon the admittance of those sheer emotions that had, at times, so tugged with such force upon him. It was hard for him to simply let go - particularly not when he was assured that Dorian held far more weight upon his shoulder then this. Even so, he still sought to offer the Monarch what knowledge he held of his species, mixing those beverages for them both in the process. He passed that beverage to his lover, offering the man only a small simper at that look of glee that temporarily crossed Dorian's features at that fruity taste. That liquor was far too welcomely enjoyed by the vampire, even as he regaled the fae King of those efforts he'd taken to track down Anna-Marie's past and, in turn, to secure his own peaceful future.

The truth of Anna-Marie, however, filled in much of those missing holes that Sebastian had so neglected to voice within their own relationship. For example, that utter exhaustion that had beset him that evening of his return or that microwaved blood he'd been forced to consume that had prompted him to near leap upon his lover when that blood had been so willingly offered to him, regardless of his manservant being within that same vehicle. Even in spite of all of that, however, that night had wholly belonged to them alone. That suggestion in assisting with the finding of that information, however, was entirely unexpected. It was a generous offer, and one Sebastian was more than willing to take him up on if only for the proverbial dead end he'd so found thus far. That nodd of Dorian's head in agreement with that plan brought the first sense of relief to the vampire in regards to his maker all night long. His head bobbed ever so slightly in return, even though he could see well that anxiety that so filled his lover's frame at that simple suggestion of tea. "And if it doesn't go well, love, or if you arn't done in time -- do not fret over it, okay? Your conversation with him is vastly more important than whatever riddle he might give me." That, he knew, was very much the truth of it. Although he disliked asking his potential father-in-law for assistance, the truth was that Anna-Marie in her current state was perhaps as great of a threat to Dorian as it was himself. He was banking on that simple fact to prompt Matteo to provide him with something that might be of value.

That suggestion of utilizing the Italian government to so aid in his search, however, was met with a simple shake of his head. He hardly knew enough of that woman or the coven or the fire or any real solid details to provide them with to even give them a decent starting place. That inquiry of what he did know of her, however, caused his lips to press together ever so slightly in a frown. "No, I never discovered her name, nor the name of whom she was taken by. I know that he was once a knight and he had black hair and....ash colored eyes? So maybe dark brown? She said he smelled of cloves. I know it was sometime around two hundred years ago but I could possible pull more information out of Ceara...." His voice trailed off in consideration of revisiting that young woman though, he somehow doubted she would be helpful truly when she had been the one to inform him that there were no others Anna-Marie had made. Either, she had been wrong or his assumption had been incorrect when Anna-Marie had informed him she had been like him. He could hardly help the sigh that left his lips at the sheer thought of all he had left to accomplish and the little knowledge he had to so help this situation, the simple realization of it all prompted his fingers to raise to his temples at the simple stress of it all.

Unfortunately, he was not yet released from all those truths that were required of him, the man quickly near finishing that drink as he so sought to provide Dorian that belated explanation of that fateful night in which not only Samantha had drawn much fear from him, but also Anna-Marie had so discovered that connection she had with him. He knew little, truly, of how that admittance of why Anna-Marie had prompted him to bite her affected the fae King. That agitation upon the man entirely missed in those scrubbing efforts as he so reflected upon the memory of that very evening. He knew well that he was not broken in any sense, he was entirely capable of feeding himself and certainly saw little need to change in any fashion. Still, that simple certainty had brought a peculiar emotion within the vampire, one that so drew his mood inwards and further into that pit of despair he already predominantly occupied. It was that touch of Dorian's hand upon his own that caused that scrubbing to cease, the fae King near demanding his attention in those fragile moments. He struggled, truly, at so admitting those concerns that weighed upon his mind, particularly to Dorian himself. For so long he'd tried to keep those worries from the fae King under the guise that Dorian would surely keep him only for those pleasurable evenings he was capable of providing the man. After that relationship had so been defined as something, those concerns of his maker had nearly disappeared with her. At least, until tonight.

Still, that insistence that he should have shared those thoughts - if only because of that love between them could hardly stop that guilt that filled the man, that apology so softly falling from his lips. That insistence that this too was hardly necessary of his apology however, fell on deaf ears. This very relationship was so acutely important for him that he strove so desperately to ensure he did every right by his lover in the perhaps irrational hope that this would not fall apart like his last marriage. The sheer idea of it alone was enough to provoke a near coldness to grip his heart. Still - if this was what Dorian so desired of him, this sharing that he had so denied the man then...perhaps it was not awful to simply try was it? Those drinks came together far quicker than he wanted and yet, those thoughts of everything still weighed so heavily upon his heart and mind, so shaking that will to appear entirely put together.

It was almost natural, the way his forehead found his lover's shoulder, his words muffled as he finally uttered what truly concerned him far greater than all the rest of it. That sensation of Dorian's arms around his waist was wholly welcomed, his own arms slowly embracing the man as he buried his head deeper into that cotton material, relishing in that scent of his lover as he so tried to chase away the rest of the world and exist just here. That admittance that this too worried the fae only saw those concerns grip at the vampire ever tighter. That tightening of Dorian's grip upon him almost welcomed in that moment of silence. He couldn't handle the sheer idea of harming the fae King, much less being the cause of Dorian's death. That idea of the fae King dying in his arms thanks to Anna-Marie was perhaps far too greater than his gentle soul could bear and yet, it had been a very plausible fear but hours ago. He could hardly help the way his blue eyes glassed over at that very thought, the man entirely thankful for that current position, unwilling yet to let Dorian see just how great of a fear that truly was.

Dorian's insistence that he had some idea, however, hardly helped to reassure him in any fashion, at least not at first. "I would try." He whispered softly, knowing well what sort of pain he was so inviting if Anna-Marie should ever demand it of him. That insistence that Dorian did not believe fully that their love might conquer even this, however, was met with mixed emotions, even as he listened acutely to those ideas his lover had already considered. A soft sigh left his lips at that thought of Anna-Marie finding that blessing of life once again and yet, even with that threat that so lingered upon the fae King's lips, Sebastian could do little beyond simply nod in acceptance. "I hope it doesn't come to that." He uttered softly, his fingers tightening within the fabric of his lover's shirt. "I just...I just wish she would go back to being gone like she has the last two hundred years of my life." Those words were little more than mere utterances and yet that hope was entirely futile, even he knew that. It was a childish desire but tonight danced upon the border of all that he could withstand.