[ He doesn’t touch Alucard. He wants to, he wants to so much, but he doesn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever, and that doesn’t have to be a sad thing. Just the way things are, the result of the choices people have made, just like the two fingers that end at knuckles. Just like Carmilla’s missing fang.
He does, however, touch the fabric of Alucard’s shirt. Holds it between thumb and finger for just a moment, tugging at it the way the pups used to tug at his sister’s skirts to remind her that they were there and they loved her. ]
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He does, however, touch the fabric of Alucard’s shirt. Holds it between thumb and finger for just a moment, tugging at it the way the pups used to tug at his sister’s skirts to remind her that they were there and they loved her. ]
Then we’ll be fine. All of us.