[Necks were always perilous propositions. Alucard knew that from the outset of this, now more than three years ago, and he took great pains to be careful about necks that were not his. He always asked permission, and even then he was terribly delicate, and always made a point to not brush against veins unless told to do so. (Usually by Sypha.)
So after everything, it was only natural that he intended to give Trevor's neck a wide berth. That never excluded accidentally brushing against it, and the reaction it got was gutwrenching. Alucard hated it, and that only fueled his desire to be cautious. But when the matter happened with Sypha, it was clear that this? This was another part of the psychological fall out of the awful events of spring coming home to rest.
And it's gotten worse. Alucard and Sypha have spoken quietly when Trevor hasn't been around, debating and pulling their hair over what to do. It's an ever too elusive solution, and the question has come to occupy most of Alucard's thoughts when he's silent. Even reading doesn't free him from worry.
The garden helps though. It's warm and bright and far too sunny even in winter, and Alucard reads there during the daylight. In bed, listening to Trevor's heartbeat (their miracle of science and faith) does much the same.
His eyes go up from the book when Trevor says his name. Alucard knows all of Trevor's tones now, and the weight in this one already has him worried.
The worry is justified. The right response doesn't exist, but Alucard has theories.]
no subject
So after everything, it was only natural that he intended to give Trevor's neck a wide berth. That never excluded accidentally brushing against it, and the reaction it got was gutwrenching. Alucard hated it, and that only fueled his desire to be cautious. But when the matter happened with Sypha, it was clear that this? This was another part of the psychological fall out of the awful events of spring coming home to rest.
And it's gotten worse. Alucard and Sypha have spoken quietly when Trevor hasn't been around, debating and pulling their hair over what to do. It's an ever too elusive solution, and the question has come to occupy most of Alucard's thoughts when he's silent. Even reading doesn't free him from worry.
The garden helps though. It's warm and bright and far too sunny even in winter, and Alucard reads there during the daylight. In bed, listening to Trevor's heartbeat (their miracle of science and faith) does much the same.
His eyes go up from the book when Trevor says his name. Alucard knows all of Trevor's tones now, and the weight in this one already has him worried.
The worry is justified. The right response doesn't exist, but Alucard has theories.]
...What's brought this on?
[Not what?, all indignation. Why?]