It is the softest roll of his eyes that meets Sebastian suggestion of the calculated time it which it would, so apparently logically, take them to complete such a feat as enjoying every room in the Palace of Caserta. The Fae finds himself afflicted with the easiest of simpers upon his lips in response to even these small exchanged jests. It was a decidedly rare thing for Dorian to truly engage in such frivolous conversation at all and yet with each passing encounter and each lingering moment spent within the company of his vampire lover the ancient King was, steadily, simply beginning to relax to the point that shades of his personality, that which existed beneath the airs and graces so expected of him, had so at last begun to display itself to Sebastian alone. So few truly understood, after all, just how great the pressure upon his position in life and yet the longer he spent away from his homeland and the more he learned of this intriguing city and its inhabitants the more inclined the Fae was truly becoming to simply embrace it and to allow, in turn, many of his own mannerisms to modernize in an effort to merely exist with comfort amongst others. It is difficult, in far more ways then one, for Dorian to allow himself to simply be. After all, he had spent a lifetime- several of them, being as was expected of him, not perhaps- as he himself entirely was. Sebastian however, seemed entirely apt at so steadily beginning to draw out those more colourful shades of his nature that had been decidedly muted in a fashion Court so seemed to achieve.

The vampire's assurance that they would simply try, next time, sees Dorian offer a simple nod in response. The fairy assured that if there was pleasure to be found in such things that Sebastian, most assuredly, would be capable of teaching him of it. Aged though he may be, Dorian is hardly above learning, in any fashion and in this promise for next time he finds himself content once more. Enough so as to further tease the man in the moments that follow and those fangs so threaten to pierce his flesh once more in a manner Dorian finds beyond merely agreeable. Surely though, there was no one, truly, capable of resisting those blissful sensations offered at the vampires canines? Dorian curious, in some fashion, as to whether or not there had ever been another whom had truly disliked Sebastian's bite- or been immune to it in some fashion. It was, he supposed, entirely a possibility and yet even despite his momentary curiosity in this, the notion of Sebastian and the many others he surely entertained was displeasing to him to consider. He could hardly deny his companion his meals, nor the fashion in which he achieved them, it simply was as it was and that Dorian is assured cannot be changed. Yet- for perhaps the first time â€" Dorian found himself so actively disliking the thought of sharing his companion.

The Fae remains all-too content to dismiss such thoughts however as they find themselves atop the grass, the silver of his gaze drifting amongst the gathered population with a clear inquisitiveness before assuring Sebastian he hardly knew as to the occasion that seemed to summon the populace to this place. His attention returns to the man beside him at the gently muttered words, Dorian's own features softening slightly as his head merely shakes. How the days might simply blur together was a notion the Fae King understood far, far too well.

"This I understand. I spent many years, several hundred, hardly knowing the date or the time let alone the year- I simply no longer cared. There was merely day and then there was night with no variation to mark one as more remarkable then the other. Forgetting a holiday I think, is thereby permissible. Time does not hold so much meaning for us, as it does for those of the more- mortal persuasion."

There was, he is assured, a very distinct distance between living and merely existing. Immortal creatures such as himself and indeed surely Sebastian too- entirely prone to the later if given reason enough to become despondent to the world about them. Immortality, after all, holds its own pitfalls even if few are given to consider them. Why he seeks to offer the man such words he hardly knows, an effort to reassure him perhaps that he too understood just how easily it was to allow days to blur. It was an irony of sorts that the very reason Dorian had so begun to notice each and every day with a striking clarity was entirely because of Sebastian himself. The idea of seeing his companion once more, of merely being within his presence- affording Dorian a purpose he had lacked for more centuries he cared to count. It is the sudden appearance of the first of the fireworks that so smoothly removes his thoughts from such a topic. His slate-hued gaze so easily follows the flame upward with a clear curiosity before the veritable explosion it results in seems to startle him entirely.

He remains, for his part, so utterly unaware of his own affinity and how this mere subtle touch of it so seems to ensnare his companion- stoking at emotions so well concealed. Had he been aware of his own power, the King would surely have been abhorred at the notion he had used it upon his companion in any sense and yet the feel of it was so entirely subtle that it remained, at least for now, outside even his own knowledge. The feel of Sebastian's arm about his waist, pulling him closer and against the vampires still warm frame momentarily distracts him from the flickering sky above and the lingering fear they are surely all about to burn. It is all-too easy to allow himself to be encouraged to recline beside his companion, the presence of Sebastian's side against him own an oddly satisfying sensation and yet a certain tenseness remains to him still. He allows his gaze to find the green light the vampire so sought to draw his attention towards- before it too seemed to explode in a veritable shower that saw the man flinch ever so slightly against his companion once more.

"Are you sure? They seem terribly close enough to me."

How on earth the mechanics of such a spectacle worked was entirely beyond the man. Something fired upward must surely come down and yet these lights simply seemed to fade as Sebastian suggested they might. Curiosity, at last, seems to begin to get the better of the man as each firework failed to ignite the field below. His form relaxing slightly more as Sebastian's softly spoken, yet solemn, words seemed to draw his attention again. A look of surprise at this admittance works its way onto his features, something, somewhere within his chest seeming to tighten with the words and yet too he finds himself nearly inclined to tell Sebastian to dismiss them- that he hardly needed to offer them, or more so, that he surely shouldn't. Sebastian would leave one day, of that Dorian was assured. Though even despite such an assurance, the man had already formed an attachment to his lover that ran far deeper than the simple fun he chose to delude himself with the belief that this was.

Dorian was, he knew, on a level he chose to deny over and over- beginning to love this man and that in itself was so inherently dangerous for so very many reasons. These words, this admittance, would only make Sebastian's inevitable departure one day far, far harder than it would already be and yet for all he should have said- Dorian finds himself utterly unable, or unwilling to do so. Indeed- he does the very opposite of what he surely should. His features simply softening, lips pressing gently to Sebastian's cheek in a decidedly chaste yet affectionate kiss right there and upon a rather crowded and public hill.

"When you say that- I believe you."

He utters the words softly, willing to let himself trust that Sebastian would....be around to fulfil such a promise even if it was perhaps a foolhardy belief in itself. Dorian simply resigned to enjoy his companion for as long as he would be allowed. His gaze returns then to the fireworks above, the man content beside his companion, eyes widening slightly at a particularly large red light as the Fae allows himself to abruptly lay back within the grass entirely. The action decidedly un-royal, a soft chuckle humming within his throat- returning the pair as always to something far more neutral yet no less contenting.

"Do you know, I haven't laid in the grass since I fell off my horse- and that was in fourteen seventy five. I had forgotten about grass. I think though, I like these fireworks."

Dorian Aragona