Sebastian Ellington

Truly, the vampire loved those peaceful moments in which the vampire's body was so nestled against his lover's own. Even though that touch was minimal, he near craved even the smallest of brushes of Dorian's skin against his own. His fingers so gingerly entangled in the King's locks in a small display of his ever present affection for the Italian Monarch. This was exactly how he preferred to spend his evenings - nestled on that boring old couch with the fae in his arms. His gaze remained settled upon his boyfriend as he listened to the man speak of those fond memories Matteo had shared of those memories of Dorian's mother - the woman he had loved so dearly and lost in her mortality. He had wondered before, truly, why Matteo had never changed her to fae so they might have an eternity and yet maybe he had offered and she had declined? It had hardly ever been his place to inquire - though he supposed Dorian had not had truth to ask after in the first place. That admittance that Matteo and Dorian's mother had not only held a clandestine relationship - but one filled with affection and warmth was hardly surprising in any sense. He might not have known the woman whom had given birth to his lover, and Dorian in turn might have spoken little of her, but he knew Matteo well enough. The elder fae's near impish nature made it difficult to imagine him with someone incapable of that same...joyousness.

It was with delicate, softly spoken words that Sebastian attempted to shed some sort of light on that vast difference between the woman Matteo painted and the woman Dorian had known in his youth. That assurance that the pair had been so made for one another, however, hardly seemed to surprise his lover in the slightest, in fact, Dorian seemed to expect such an answer. Those words of gratitude, however, were met with a small nod, even if those words hardly needed to be spoken. Rather, he watched as that simper so graced the fae King's features at that confirmation of the relationship his parents held. Dorian alone was the very evidence of that love - one which transcended those responsibilities so expected of them both. He was certain that his lover's mother would have been proud to see the King he had become. He allowed his lover those moments of silence to consider all he had learned and all he and his father had spoken of. Truly, Sebastian had little doubt that the King had much that weighed upon his mind to shift through. When it came to Dorian, Sebastian found he had near infinite patience.

His gaze met those silver eyes that stared up at him, his head tilted to the side in an inquisitive fashion as his lover so speculated on that relationship between Matteo and his mother and the adoration that must have existed between them, even if it paled in comparison to the love that the vampire and the fae shared. That near implication, really, of how great their own care for each other was, and, in a roundabout way, that if there should ever be a time in which the pair were apart that all the time and distance in the world could neither taint their love as it had his parents - the notion of it all brought a small hint of a simper to his features. His head bobbed as he reached with his free hand for his lover's own. "I suspect you are right." The vampire mused softly. He was hardly unaware of the fashion in which the fae shifted ever so closer towards him, the Englishman entirely inclined to welcome that want for closeness. He shifted, pulling his arm from Dorian's locks only to settle on the man's waist, pulling his body upwards and into his arms and against his chest while also moving to pull his legs on that sofa. He had missed those moments upon first waking that the pair often would spend simply relishing in each other's company - the vampire entirely content to make up for that now.

He glanced down at the Monarch at that question that left Dorian's lips and yet, a mere shrug crossed his shoulders in return. "It leads nowhere. The color has long since faded...it's more pink than the red hue of ours...it simply...fades into nothingness. Next time...I shall show you, hm?" He commented softly as a small simper settled upon his lips. That ever present curiosity within his lover never ceased to amuse him and yet, Sebastian so often went out of his way to show the man what he could to sedate those curiosities or get those answers to whatever numerous questions fluttered through his lover's mind. It was sad, perhaps, to see that thread as a mere ghost in the wind and yet, after observing all those different states of all those different threads the past year or so, they somehow failed to inflict upon him the same empathy that the sheer thought of them so affected his lover. Matteo was hardly the only soul he'd seen with that ghastly thread that still clung when life had stolen the other half. At least they had a chance for that love compared to those soul mates that would never meet when death took one far too soon. Life....and love...it was all so terribly tragic.

His thoughts, however, shifted from those internal contemplations as his lover so began to speak of those early years in which he had relatively few memories. A small simper fluttered over his lips at that notion of Matteo stealing away into the palace at night in an effort to spend what little time he could with his son and yet, it was that notion of Dorian's guilt that prompted the vampire to shake his head. "There is no reason to beat yourself up over it, ma bichette. He did what he could for you in his own way, he was what you needed even if you didn't know you needed it...that is what fathers do...I think." Sebastian muttered softly, attempting to assuage those remorse that existed within the Monarch. He fell silent as his lover spoke of that man he'd thought for so long was his father and yet, that notion that the man had intended to kill his boyfriend only caused his lips to press together ever so slightly in his distaste for the sheer thought of that suggestion, even if he was hardly surprised of that anger. The vampire leaned forward just enough to nestle his face against his lover's neck, even if he hardly interrupted that tale of Dorian's birth and those long years in which the fae King had suffered in that faux family. It was silly really, the way he so unconsciously found himself attempting to relieve whatever pain the Monarch felt, those subtle gestures to remind the man that, regardless of the past, he was so very loved in the present.

It was that question of his own family, however, that finally prompted his lips to part and yet, truly, his own childhood could not be furthest from that one Dorian had experienced. "Wet nurses were not uncommon but...you had to be careful. They used to send children home with the wet nurses and....many infants died. Getting a higher quality wet nurse cost money but...I was told my mother wouldn't have anything of it. She died when I young, I don't remember her at all. She used to play the piano though, my father would tell us of that sometimes when my step-mother wasn't in the room. It's why I started to play - to feel closer to her I guess." He shrugged ever so slightly, knowing how utterly silly such an idea was in the first place. "But yes, I was fairly close to my father, I suppose. My brother and I were his only boys and he prioritized us to all our half-sisters. My stepmother was the only mother I knew, she favored her own children, naturally, but, she loved us too. John and I were terrors as children. She died when I was....ten or so. My sisters had wet nurses...I remember that. Father remarried again but...my brother and I were never terribly close with her."

It was perhaps the most he'd ever spoken of his family to date. It was easier for him to simply let them lie in the past where they belonged. "I went back to see my father on his deathbed and...Caroline and Katherine came to my wedding. They died soon after my wife." It had been a decidedly rough few years, so many deaths at once - the effect they'd had upon the man had been near devastating and yet, in the way of all of those memories, Sebastian found himself falling quiet for several long moments before he uttered softly, "I miss them."