He did not expect to hear from Sebastian for several days in the very least. Why should he? Such a thing would have been decidedly outside protocol, a protocol Dorian had not even truly realised he had been expecting to begin with and yet had the vampire done anything less than respected such customs the Fae man would certainly have been taken aback by him. It had occurred to Dorian, on some level, that all forms of courtship had changed and developed entirely without him. His observations of Samantha had proven that much. No longer did either men or women cease to approach him without introduction from someone of a higher rank, people of all ranks seemed equally as determined to speak to him upon the street. Samantha went out continually without a chaperone despite her unmarried status, something Dorian feels is almost scandalous and yet from what the woman had told him she and her companion often went out together unsupervised. To walk-out with a gentleman was an increased level of courtship, one that often sent the gossip mill flying as everything from social status to the acts of his or her great grandparents were discussed in an attempt to deduce whether such actions were entirely suitable. Touching between the pair, even if they were to walk-out together was frowned upon, although even Dorian is aware that this was one rule made entirely to be broken and that near every couple strove to achieve even some level of contact, fleeting and chaste though it often was. To be seen out together, to walk beside one another, much as he had done with Sebastian- spoke of many things, namely assessing the quality of the company and whether or not it was agreeable to keep. Not that anyone seemed to understand any longer.

Dorian had, however, taken to counting his days with thorough care- something he is not entirely sure he has ever done. The Fae King content to remind himself that it was merely the anticipation of something unexplored that surely resulted in this overall feeling of anxiousness. He had spent countless hundreds of years in the one place, to be free to enjoy what the world had to offer once more was surely what resulted in this bizarre sensation of feeling that seemed to afflict him. Samantha had left at least an hour earlier to go to the place called 'Work', Dorian having stepped outside his own protocol to encourage that perhaps she might desire to visit her male companion afterwards. After all, there are nights in which Samantha often did not come home, Dorian knowing entirely well where she had gone and with whom, something he is normally given to frown upon and yet tonight he finds he is far more satisfied with her being out for the entirety of the night and even some of the next day. The lack of his female companion had seen Dorian return to his room, the man ordering it just so. It was, perhaps, not as pleasing as Sebastian's own and yet the Fae had little choice but to tolerate Samantha's organisation of his rooms decoration, the girl at least having strove to afford it a simple modern-ness without offending Dorian entirely too much.

It takes the man several more moments to find a shirt he deems acceptable. Dorian always diligent in regards to his appearance, it was expected of him, before the anticipated knock at the door sees him pause. He cannot quite help the shadow of a simper that adorns his features- before the realisation that he is expected to answer his own door sees him stride towards the staircase. In his age and time the door was answered entirely by servants, guests were received in whichever room the host declared acceptable for the nature of the visit. In this instance Dorian is entirely assured he would have sent the servants away all the same- at least upon the guise he had required to discuss important business with Sebastian. Assured privacy was perhaps the only real perk to a lack of servants. The door, at least, is not outside his ability to work- the fairy opening it smoothly to reveal the man he had both expected and anticipated, the slate of his gaze drawing almost languorously over him as if to appreciate the sight entirely. Effort, after all, went into every detail and as such it deserved his attention.

His gaze, at last, lingers upon the single red carnation held loosely in the vampire's hand, both eyes lifting slightly and yet it takes barely a moment for his features to soften entirely at the sight of it. Flowers were meaningful things, when used in the right way, after all, each type and colour referred to vastly different things- an utterly unspoke language. This, Dorian thinks, is an acceptable choice and one he finds decidedly pleasing. Red carnations spoke of adoration and desire- it is a clever play and yet one the man waits to be offered to him as manners surely dictate. There is something....incredibly appealing in the very notion itself that Sebastian understood the way of things. It was contenting, pleasing and Dorian finds himself altogether simply comfortable in the other man's company. The very look the Fae affords him surely enough to indicate entirely without words that he is more than pleased.

"It has been a....very long week."

It was entirely the truth. Dorian had wanted to see him and truly the King sees little need not to share such wants. A simper once more finds its way to his features with such a softly uttered admittance as Dorian shifts to the side, the subtle gesture inviting Sebastian in. Dorian moving to close the door behind him, affording Sebastian a moment to acquaint himself with the room before he gestures to it.

"The décor is not entirely to my liking, in truth I understand very little of it. I am trying to learn though, slowly. It is merely fortunate I don't truly eat- because the kitchen thoroughly dislikes me."

The house was veritably filled with items Dorian had no knowledge of how to use, the man spending far more of his time within his own room, nestled upon his bed with his history books, quite content to find what little of the past he could and immerse himself within it. Yet tonight even his history books hold little intrigue for him, the Fae's mind rather fixated upon the man beside, the things he desired from him, ah, the possibilities of all the ways to keep the promises made! Dorian having every intention of doing just that. The Fae shifts slightly once more, seating himself upon the arm of the sofa, one limb folding neatly over the other as a grin works itself back upon his features before he gestures loosely towards the staircase.

"Do you care to see the rest of it?"

Dorian Aragona