Within his era, that was a proper decorum for absolutely everything from flowers to hiring servants to even making house calls. Each and every action was dictated by a sort of standard that everyone knew - and those who didn't were often the center of the gossip circles of both women and even young men alike. After all - they found fault in every mistake, each one somehow flawing the individual from being a worthy marriageable candidate. In this world, Sebastian had once blossomed and even though his birth era had long since passed, Sebastian more often than not still held himself to those same standards. Aside, of course, from his eating habits and the habitual sleeping around that came with it. Though, if he was dreadfully honest, he had still ignored such social graces when it came to whom he bedded when he was alive. Regardless - this time, he had made a particular point to ensure he waited the exact number of days that such manners required of him. Royalty, after all, had their own level of appropriate etiquette and yet, despite this, Sebastian still found himself eying that same card he was given every night that he let slip by him.

He had placed it on his nightstand next to his bed - the card the first thing he saw every morning and the last thing that touched his fingertips before the sun stole his life from him. That is, until tonight. The fairy was the first thing upon his mind the moment his gaze fluttered open to stare at the ceiling of his lavish suite. Tonight was the night, it was a simple fact that managed to create such a peculiar emotion within the vampire's cold breast. There was a sort of fluttering of anticipation for what was to come - for seeing the fae himself, much less the promises that were made. It was the first time in a very long time that Sebastian actually found himself nervous. The vampire put far more thought than usual into each aspect of his nearly nightly routine from the clothes he chose to the cologne he wore. Somehow - his growing affection for the fairy prompted such an unusual reaction from him - it was a fondness Sebastian knew well he should allow to foster and yet he ignored all the warning signs, promising himself that he knew well this could never be anything more then it was - just fun.

Despire this insistence to himself, Sebastian still found himself pausing in front of a flower store as he made his way from the Northern parts of town to the more downtrodden Western parts. Flowers, of course, had their fair place within the victorian world, each plant and each color meant a whole variety of things. One could profess undying love or rejection with a singular flower. The language, however, was entirely lost to the modern world and yet, Sebastian was entirely sure that Dorian would know well of their importance. In the end, it was a singular red carnation the man plucked from the plethora of flowers. Adoration and longing felt far more appropriate than pronouncing his growing affections. It fell well within the game they so played and the sexual desires they danced around. The flower hung so lackadaisical from his fingertips as he found himself standing on the mat in front of Dorian's door exactly one week since the pair had met upon the beach. A soft breath left his lips before he raised his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping gently against the door.