[They've done this often enough, haven't they? All those days, even back before Trevor found them — so many days spent just like this, Alucard in the kitchen making breakfast when she came to find him, the near-silent pad of her feet on the floor as she crosses over to him and presses herself up against his back, face buried between his shoulder blades. How often have they done this? How many days in how many weeks, months?
She's always warm. They call her fire, furnace, little flame. She's always warm but she only just feels cold now, chilled to the bone from the icy breath of the past few days' events and the magnitude of what they've wrought.
Even now, her voice isn't what it used to be. The strength has been sapped, just a little. Just enough that it shows just how much of a strain she's under, just how much fear and anxiety and tension are still creeping in.]
Adrian.
[She isn't even sure if she's allowed to call him that, anymore.]
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She's always warm. They call her fire, furnace, little flame. She's always warm but she only just feels cold now, chilled to the bone from the icy breath of the past few days' events and the magnitude of what they've wrought.
Even now, her voice isn't what it used to be. The strength has been sapped, just a little. Just enough that it shows just how much of a strain she's under, just how much fear and anxiety and tension are still creeping in.]
Adrian.
[She isn't even sure if she's allowed to call him that, anymore.]