[Each night she's over. Each night he cooks, and then there's enough time spent in the living room that suggests this is absolutely moving too fast but all caution's been thrown to the wind. There's only a few days left of this dalliance, neither of them are interested in breaks.
Then Friday night comes, Alucard sees Sypha back to her people, and that has to be that. The good-byes aren't uttered because there's a nice lie to themselves if that is the case. They'll see each other again. Good byes are pointless.
(The be wells are not. He's still recovering. Now there's a new thing to recover from as well, and that's when Alucard feels the worst of all. It's silly, having heartbreak over something that's never well and truly come to pass. Yet here he is, having it.)
In Sypha's things there is a note. The handwriting is terribly neat, the note's cover reads Ms. Belnades. Cream colored paper with some weight to it.]
Miss Belnades--
I already miss the pleasure of your company and the grace and warmth you bring into this house. To ask you to give up your world is terrible and selfish of me, and even writing those words gives my pen pause. But to not do this gives the rest of myself pause and judge myself for not taking a risk.
My doors and heart are open to you, should you wish to stay with me for a time. Whatever this thing between us is, I treasure it and would be glad to have you in my life for as long as you wished it.
Forgive me for any poor wording here. As you said, language is not my strongest suit.
no subject
Then Friday night comes, Alucard sees Sypha back to her people, and that has to be that. The good-byes aren't uttered because there's a nice lie to themselves if that is the case. They'll see each other again. Good byes are pointless.
(The be wells are not. He's still recovering. Now there's a new thing to recover from as well, and that's when Alucard feels the worst of all. It's silly, having heartbreak over something that's never well and truly come to pass. Yet here he is, having it.)
In Sypha's things there is a note. The handwriting is terribly neat, the note's cover reads Ms. Belnades. Cream colored paper with some weight to it.]
Miss Belnades--
I already miss the pleasure of your company and the grace and warmth you bring into this house. To ask you to give up your world is terrible and selfish of me, and even writing those words gives my pen pause. But to not do this gives the rest of myself pause and judge myself for not taking a risk.
My doors and heart are open to you, should you wish to stay with me for a time. Whatever this thing between us is, I treasure it and would be glad to have you in my life for as long as you wished it.
Forgive me for any poor wording here. As you said, language is not my strongest suit.
--Adrian