death incarnate & night triumphant

It was the silence that filled his morning that already had Andras lounging in a chair, his hair disheveled and a drink in his hand. He had managed to clean the blood and gore from his body only hours ago, leaving Lani in the capable hands of his housekeeper; the only person Lani seemed willing to speak to at the moment. Dragging a hand down his face, he can't help but replay the scene in the cellar over and over again, the Fae entirely aware of when Lani had drawn her last breath... and when she had taken her first as a newborn faerie. He couldn't bring himself to regret his choice, to finish that changing and yet, he hadn't realized how much it would affect his mate. And truly, that's what Lani was, his mate, his other half and she didn't even know it yet. At this rate, the High Lord doubted she wanted anything to do with him, telling her they were destined for each other was probably not his wisest move at the moment.

Raising that glass to his lips, he takes a sip, the alcohol hardly doing anything to wash away his memories, his terrors. The man was a far cry from drunk and there was nothing more he wished to be just that in those moments and yet, he refrains from doing so, Andras not wanting to be... incapacitated if Lani were to call for him. Though, he hardly thinks that is going to happen anytime soon. Andras has even had to return to the townhouse in the city, being in the lodge was far too hard for him to stay away, he couldn't help but listen in on her conversations. God, he was a fool. Ida was making sure Lani was taken care of and yet, he couldn't help but feel that he should be the one doing just that and knowing that Lani didn't want him right now wrecked him.

Clenching his jaw, he continues to wallow in his self pity for who knows hold long. What he did know was that he had reported himself a drink at least twice since the crack of dawn, the sun only now peaking over the massive buildings in the city as it filters into his windows. A stray thought has him thinking of Navi, wondering where she had run off to, yet, Andras can't bring himself to care about the cheeky faerie at this given moment, the girl far too curious for her own good. The man is just bringing that glass back to his lips when Matteo simply appears in his living room, his scent wafting through Andras's nostrils as he eyes the faerie with unsurprised eyes. Perhaps if he hadn't been in one of his moods he might have been startled or even happy to see the man, Matteo one of the few immortals older than Andras himself and basically a walking library.

Instead, Andras sets his half empty glass on the table as his dark hazel eyes remain trained on the man, a wave of memories coursing through him at the last time he had met Matteo. He had an affinity for the future and knew a great deal about Andras's past himself. And truly, it hadn't occurred to him until now that Matteo knew what was going to happen in that cellar, the faeries hadn't seemed him worthy of knowing that such a thing was going to happen, that Andras would have to make a life altering choice. It was that knowledge that has the High Lord staring at the newcomer, though, he hardly stands from his seat in the chair, "I can't say I'm pleased to see you, Matteo," he drawls, his tenors lined with hidden violence, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He questions, Andras tempted to make him leave immediately, and yet, he couldn't help but feel questions of his own arise.

Andras Steinhello darling