[ he knows, at least, that he resembles their father, enough to sometimes frighten those that don't bother to look more closely. whoever his mother had been, she'd softened his features into prettiness, but otherwise, there's no denying his heritage. it's strange to him sometimes, then, how golden adrian is, hair and eyes like the sunlight that seems to love him. they must look an odd pair to his brother's partners.
which is all to say.. that he wonders if this is how dracula had held his son, if d is doing something right, or only causing adrian more pain. his own childhood, such that it existed, had not held much of softness in it, and is in any case long, long in the past. but adrian isn't pulling away, so perhaps he's doing something correctly. ]
Yes, [ he finally says, and presses his nose briefly to the golden crown of his brother's head. ] .. To think, I swore I would never return to this place. [ and yet, here he is, willing to make it.. home. as close as he can manage, anyway. ]
[They're words uttered softly, but wrapped around them is an incredible warmth and sense of relief. One of the things he has come to appreciate the most about D is that they can reach between each other's lines. A skill less due to Dracula and far more because they're both fairly obvious in their ways, even if they like to pretend otherwise.
Maybe this embrace has gone on a bit too long. Alucard can't bring himself to pull away from it, the affection pulling up far more pleasant memories of the past than he's dwelled on in some time. To connect those with the present is perhaps the best possible outcome. He can't possibly guess at what this might be brushing up against for his brother, but if it is for the worst, Alucard hope that this moment will replace whatever unpleasantness is trying to bubble up to the surface.]
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which is all to say.. that he wonders if this is how dracula had held his son, if d is doing something right, or only causing adrian more pain. his own childhood, such that it existed, had not held much of softness in it, and is in any case long, long in the past. but adrian isn't pulling away, so perhaps he's doing something correctly. ]
Yes, [ he finally says, and presses his nose briefly to the golden crown of his brother's head. ] .. To think, I swore I would never return to this place. [ and yet, here he is, willing to make it.. home. as close as he can manage, anyway. ]
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[They're words uttered softly, but wrapped around them is an incredible warmth and sense of relief. One of the things he has come to appreciate the most about D is that they can reach between each other's lines. A skill less due to Dracula and far more because they're both fairly obvious in their ways, even if they like to pretend otherwise.
Maybe this embrace has gone on a bit too long. Alucard can't bring himself to pull away from it, the affection pulling up far more pleasant memories of the past than he's dwelled on in some time. To connect those with the present is perhaps the best possible outcome. He can't possibly guess at what this might be brushing up against for his brother, but if it is for the worst, Alucard hope that this moment will replace whatever unpleasantness is trying to bubble up to the surface.]