[The library isn't an option. The library is the liminal space between castle and home, the one place where everything can be mixed up without anyone feeling as if they are doing a wrong thing. Trevor's room likewise is too personal.
Want and need are not things Alucard is thinking about at the moment, not in a meaningful way. Being alone simply feels like the right thing at the moment. He can't parse that this is all horror at himself for what he's jut done (he had to, it was the right thing in the eyes of so many). All he can think of is every time Trevor spat the word princeling in the first month or two that he lived in the castle, and what it really meant. Spoiled, sheltered, not raised with ways to cope with dealing the hard but right thing, especially when death was involved.
There are a few spare rooms in the wing of the castle where Alucard's office is. Two of them have mattresses, and he shuffles past Trevor to go to the nearest one. It's six doors down after taking a sudden left. Alucard shuffles his way there. He knows he looks like death itself.
He was Death itself the other night. The look is right.]
no subject
Want and need are not things Alucard is thinking about at the moment, not in a meaningful way. Being alone simply feels like the right thing at the moment. He can't parse that this is all horror at himself for what he's jut done (he had to, it was the right thing in the eyes of so many). All he can think of is every time Trevor spat the word princeling in the first month or two that he lived in the castle, and what it really meant. Spoiled, sheltered, not raised with ways to cope with dealing the hard but right thing, especially when death was involved.
There are a few spare rooms in the wing of the castle where Alucard's office is. Two of them have mattresses, and he shuffles past Trevor to go to the nearest one. It's six doors down after taking a sudden left. Alucard shuffles his way there. He knows he looks like death itself.
He was Death itself the other night. The look is right.]