He remembered that night with such painful clarity - the last night she'd laid in his arms. Her silken brunette locks fell around her petite frame, that once meticulous updo had loosened to those soft curls he'd once loved so much. He remembered the subtle scent of oranges and jasmine in the folds of her clothing, the paleness of her once lively flesh as that last soft, trembling breath left her parted, plump lips. How vibrantly that memory flared to life within the forefront of his mind. How long he'd run from that last evening with her. He'd once tried to drink it away, her death followed by his brother's and fathers in such rapid succession that Sebastian had been keen to nurse the bottle for years before dragging himself together in some vain effort to put back the pieces of his family's name - the last male Ellington. Though years had passed onto decades and then, centuries, she had always remained the epitome of love for the Incubus - every other soul simply passing though his life night after night...until Dorian. How torn the presence of his two lovers had made him, those vampiric instincts struggling between a simple needs to appease and protect them both in the presence of a villainous demon and yet, when all was said and done...it had been his Isabella his attention had turned to with all those words that had been left unsaid between them.

Naively, he had hoped they might be spared even a moment, and yet her spectral form had faded from view before her enticing figure could even reach the sanctuary of his arms. Her sweet soprano voice and all those frantic words faded into a mere whisper as that witch stole away that figment of her that Sebastian was still reeling to understand. In those moments after, Serafina and Brennan had been keen to leave the destruction they had wrought upon the Englishman's life. Politeness and decorum demanding Dorian see them out, leaving Sebastian merely staring at that empty spot his wife had once occupied. The navy of his irises slowly turned down towards the once pristine floors now littered with bits of string and broken chips of wood. He could still identify the shards of those instruments from color alone - the violins...the cello...the few guitars...all of them snapped and shattered and broken. Sluggishly, the vampire turned, his lips parting ever so slightly as the weight of his darkened irises fell upon the one piece of furniture he cared about most - his piano.

Vaguely, he could hear his husband's voice from the other side of the house, those final goodbyes were spoken at their front door and yet, Sebastian found himself caring strikingly little as the vampire slowly fell to his knees in front of the once beautiful instrument. The front two legs had broken, leaving the instrument leaning heavily on its front. The demon had clearly stepped on it, a large crack ran down the middle of it. The strings had all snapped, some edges still connected, leaving them splaying out from it's opened interior in a mess of innards. The keys themselves had too fallen prey to the demon's rampage, that once perfectly straight line were now dented and cracked, several falling out altogether, resting in front of Sebastian's knees. Slowly, his hand reached out for one such fallen ivory, his fingers tenderly picking up that fallen key. The evening air from the large hole in their wall brought with it a gentle breeze into the destroyed room, shifting the vampire's brunette hair, the man hardly stirring as his fingers traced the edges of the now chipped key.

He was aware of the sound of shoes down the hallway, his vampiric senses still entirely on overdrive with that assault upon his home. Sebastian was aware of his lover's figure standing within the doorway of the music room and yet, with all that had occurred tonight...with all that had been done and said...where did he even begin?

Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

His Royal Highness, Prince of Italy