Solanum Dulcamara

by Zaiakuma

 

Tags: vampires, immortals, loyalty, longing, immortality, humor, biting, blood-drinking, manipulation, possessiveness, obsession, memory loss, tsundere, yandere, complicated relationships

Content warnings:

 

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It’s been said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. That however is not always the case, and sometimes, feelings are a bit more complicated.

Those of the one at the other’s doorstep was admitted fond though, even if he was a bit nervous where he stood, twirling his umbrella.

It wasn’t raining though, and not snowing either for that matter. However, the sun was out, and even though largely covered from head to toe, he was still partially exposed and thus vulnerable to the rays of the unforgiving sun.

The other meanwhile – having no such qualms about the Earth’s closest star – narrowed his eyes at the sight of him, pupils going wide, then slit.

“Oz,” he said at last. “It really is you.”

To this, Oz offered up a small nod and a cautious smile, then finally cleared his throat. “Ezra, it’s good to see you again. May I come in?”

To this, Ezra offered up a tight smile and took a step back. However, just as Oz took a step forward, that smile gave way to a deadpan look, followed by a very firm “no” as the door was slammed shut right in his face.

It wasn’t locked though, but attempting to enter uninvited would’ve been highly inadvisable. Hence, Oz knocked, and upon receiving no answer, he knocked again. Then, still receiving no answer, he finally asked: “Ezra, can we talk?”

There was no immediate response from the other side, but Oz knew that the other could hear him well enough, even through the door.
And then⸺ “I don’t know, Gideon, can we? After fifty years and not a single response to any of my letters, I figured you didn’t want to talk.”

A-ah. He was upset. Ezra only ever called him that when he was upset.

“Look, Ezra, I’m sorry, all right? I apologise. It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to disappear on you like that. I got some really urgent business to deal with and I wasn’t⸺ Please.”

“You do realise that you used that exact excuse the last time you disappeared, right?”

He had?

“Paris 1789. Does it ring a bell?”

It did. As a matter of fact, it rang several bells – warning bells. “I guess?”

“Then, Gideon, I’m sure you can also recall what I said when we reunited five years later?”

Ah. “...Yes?”

“If you do remember, then why are you here?”

Well⸺ “To see you. To talk to you. After that, I’ll leave. I’ll go away and after that I won’t ever⸺”

The door opened slightly, a single maroon eye staring at him through the crack. “No.”

No?

The door opened slightly more, and Ezra extended his hand, holding a piece of paper.

Then, no sooner had Oz retrieved it before Ezra quickly withdrew and slammed the door shut, his exact parting words being “Talk to my lawyer.”

-

Knowing better than to tempt the other’s limited patience any further, Oz immediately went about the task.

Hailing a taxi down didn’t necessarily prove all that easy in the middle of the suburb though. Sure, one would’ve certainly come, had Oz had a phone to summon them with. Unfortunately, although he did have a pocket full of small change, there wasn’t a single payphone as far as the eye could see, and after wandering around for a good while, Oz finally gave in and asked some kids about it, only to get weirded-out looks and told to “call an Uber”, whatever that was.

Fortunately, he eventually managed to flag down a real taxi, and after handing the driver the note and receiving another look, Oz found himself headed downtown.

Soon, he was standing alone outside the building listed on the note.

For some reason, the taxi driver hadn’t been interested in getting a tip – in fact, the driver hadn’t even insisted on getting paid, just shaking his head fervently before driving right off, probably breaking all sorts of speed limits. Young people these days – and old ones, it seemed – always seemed to be in a hurry, didn’t they?

Shaking his head at such folly, Oz then looked back towards the building, which looked reasonably old – nowhere nearly as old as him, of course, but certainly old enough and built in a style that felt a lot more homely than the sleek-looking office-buildings on either side of it. Though decidedly well-kept, it looked somewhat out of place however – out of time, perhaps – and wouldn’t that make two of them, honestly?

With an exasperated sigh, Oz stepped up towards the double doors, checking the name on the sign against the one written on the note, confirming that this was indeed the place. Then, steeling himself, he pressed the buzzer.

Shortly thereafter, a staticky female voice came through. “You’ve reached Amsel & Graf. Do you have an appointment?”

An appointment, huh? “I suppose I don’t, but one of your clients told me to come here.”

There was a momentary pause. Then finally⸺ “Which one?”

Oz sighed internally, then licked his lips, suddenly finding them much too dry. “Ezra Adler.”

That had been the name on the mailbox at any rate.

“Ah.” There was a brief pause. “Please wait a moment.”

The minutes dragged on, but Oz did not fall back into the habit of checking the watch inside his pocket. There was little point to it after all, because the thing had long stopped working. He should probably get it fixed. No, he should definitely get it fixed, but⸺

Hearing some approaching the door, Oz finally looked up, then immediately paused. Because stood in the doorway was a very familiar man wearing a suit, glasses and a smile that displayed way too many teeth.

“Lutz?”

“Oz,” the other greeted him right back. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”

-

A short while later found them standing inside the latter’s office – because the office did unmistakably belong to the latter, even though the brass plaque at the door and desk read ‘Lewis Amsel’.

Then, noticing his look, the other smiled. “Not to your liking? Then...”

The sign was swiftly replaced by one of the same make, this one reading the far more familiar ‘Ludwig Graf’. At one point, there had been a ‘von’ in there as well, but somewhere in-between then and now, Lutz had apparently decided to remove it – from the official paperwork, at any rate.
And, speaking of official paperwork⸺

“I take it yours is many years out of date,” Lutz said, elbows against the desk and chin resting comfortably on top of his interlaced fingers as he sat there, eyeing Oz with definite amusement.

“Yes,” Oz finally managed, remembering all at once why he’d made a point not to associate with the other if it was at all avoidable. “Is it really that surprising?”

“Surprising?” This time around, Lutz did chuckle. “Since it’s you, I’d been shocked if it was.”

Oh. “Then what’s so damned funny?”

“Well...” The other looked him up and down, undeniably amused. “Your attire.”

Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, Oz looked down at his – in his own opinion – perfectly suitable attire – leather boots, leather pants, leather coat, sunglasses and⸺

“You look like you just stepped out of the Matrix.”

The matrix? “I don’t know what that is.”

Hearing this, Lutz sighed, then promptly shook his head. “You’re as out of touch as ever. But...”

Saying this, he cast another very meaningful look. “I suppose this is better than turning up dressed as Lestat.”

Lestat? “I don’t know who that is either.”

“Well,” Lutz said. “If you intend to stick around, you’re bound to find out eventually. The question is, are you?”

Well⸺ “I’m planning to, but...”

He trailed off, not really knowing what to say. For some reason, Ezra had sent him here, and Lutz was someone who could be relied upon for falsifying paperwork so presumably that had to mean something, right?

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, really. What’s you owing me another favour, honestly? I’ll have new paperwork drafted for you within the week. How does ‘Gideon Osman’ sound?”

Oz wrinkled his nose. He’d much rather keep his current name as it was, but⸺ “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Ah, like I said, it’s honestly nothing.” Saying this, Lutz offered up a smile and a dismissive wave. “Sure, forging new papers has become a bit more of a hassle these days with all the electronics and biometrics involved, but fortunately, I’ve got people for that.”

Somehow, Oz was by no means surprised. Because Lutz had always been like that for as long as he’d known him – possessing not just talent and wealth but also the contacts and the sway to make others do his bidding.

Ezra wouldn’t though. Ezra certainly wouldn’t, and Oz knew for a fact that the two of them did not get along, but⸺

“Oh right,” Lutz said, cutting right into Oz’ spiralling thoughts. “Since I have you here and all and since we’re such good old friends, I might as well give this to you directly.”

Saying this, he held out a card – an invitation of some sort.

Taking it, Oz couldn’t help but stare at it. “You’re getting married?”

“Why yes,” Lutz said, eyes gleaming. “It’s a bit early, sure, and we haven’t really decided on the final designs yet, but... the venue has already been booked, so I guess you may consider yourself invited.”

Oz turned the invitation over in his hand, not really sure what to say. Congratulations would probably be in order though, because as far as he knew, Lutz hadn’t had a spouse during the centuries Oz had known him. That said though⸺ “Are you expecting gifts?”

The other laughed.

“Oh, no, no. There’s no need,” Lutz finally said, chuckling still. “Your presence alone will surely be enough.”

Oz did not like the sound of that, because the Lutz he knew would never have missed an opportunity to earn more money. Again, he turned the invitation over in his hand, contemplating it.

“Go on,” Lutz said, baring his fangs. “Open it.”

Feeling a sudden rush of trepidation, Oz did, and was instantly horrified.

-

Again, Oz found himself back on that doorstep, but with far less nervousness and far more desperation.

“Ezra!” He pounded on the door. “Ezra, we really need to talk!”

He was so frazzled that he wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten there. He must’ve lost his umbrella somewhere along the way – left it behind somewhere – but that was but a minor concern for him right now, because the skies were overcast and⸺

A single drop of rain landed on the walkway beside him as he stepped back, looking up at those dark windows. Ezra wasn’t home. Where was he? Where had he gone?

It was getting dark outside too, and Oz wondered how many hours had passed. Without really thinking, he pulled out his pocket watch, flicking it open.

The time read the same as ever – nine o’ four – like it had ever since that fateful day in 1973.  Truly, for him, it had been as though time had stopped, but it hadn’t been the same for others, had it? It had been fifty years since then, and fifty years was a long time to wait, even for someone like Ezra. After fifty years, it was only natural for someone to move on. Still⸺ “Why Lutz?”

Oz turned his gaze towards the skies, and a drop of rain hit him squarely in the forehead before he ducked back down, turned on his heel and stalked off, his mind already made up. Clearly, he’d been a bit hasty, and he ought to have asked Lutz for more details before dashing off. He’d ask Lutz for more details, and if he found the other’s justifications lacking, then⸺

Then what, honestly? Ezra wasn’t the sort to allow Lutz to just bully him into anything, so that had to mean that Ezra himself had⸺

A car swivelled past him, its driver honking the horn at him as he stumbled backwards, because at some point, Oz had started running, and now, he found himself stumbling back instead, his heels hitting the curb – and before he knew it, he was lying there on the sidewalk, getting pelted by the icy rain.

Truly, this was not how he had envisioned this reunion, and looking back, he’d been a fool to entertain such fantasies to begin with.

Truly, he thought, closing his eyes. It was cold and it was wet and it was probably quite dirty as well, but Oz didn’t care. He didn’t care, because icy rain was better than snow, and far better at hiding the shameful tears filling his eyes.

Truly, he thought. I knew I should’ve booked a hotel.

He hadn’t done it though – he hadn’t done a whole lot of things, as a matter of fact. Still⸺

Lying on the pavement beat lying in the mud, and lying in the mud beat lying in the ground – most of the time. Still⸺

I wish, he thought to himself. I wish I could just go back...

He wished he could’ve gone back – that he could’ve done things differently. However, though the ravages of time could be slowed, they could not be stopped entirely, and neither could they be reversed. Still⸺

Oz opened his eyes, because the rain had suddenly let up, but only on his face.

“Honestly,” Ezra said, looking down at him from above. “You’re really hopeless, you know that, right?”

Yes, Oz was truly hopeless. He was, regardless of whether he was Gideon or Oz, but⸺ “Of all people, why Lutz? I thought you guys hated each other.”

“Of all people, why not Lutz?” Ezra crouched down beside him. “He’s a very good lawyer.”

“He’s literally the Devil’s advocate,” Oz shot back, though he himself was truly in no position to be pointing fingers. Still⸺ “Why are you getting married to him?”

“Why?” Ezra narrowed his eyes at him. “Why not?”

“Why?” Oz croaked. “Why would he even want to marry you?”

That clearly came out wrong, but⸺

“Isn’t it perfectly obvious?” Ezra said. “He wants the tax benefits.”

The tax benefits? “Do you... want the tax benefits as well?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind having them,” Ezra said in turn, straightening back up. “Now, are you planning on getting up anytime soon or should I just step over you and be on my way?”

Unable to help himself any longer, Oz reached out. Then, with a soft snort and an eyeroll, Ezra reached down. There was a significant amount of strength in that hand – in all of him, to be perfectly honest. Oz did not get the bones in his hand crushed though. In fact, he didn’t even get bruises. Ezra wasn’t using any unnecessary force, and he also wasn’t⸺

“Come on,” Ezra said. “It’s too cold out here.”

-

Ezra’s house was warm compared to the outside. It was warm and it was full of life – plant life, at any rate. That however was not what was at the forefront of Oz’ mind as he stepped out of the other’s bathroom wearing a fresh set of clothing and a towel around his neck.

“You’re not wearing a ring.”

“A most astute observation,” Ezra said, seated in an armchair with a blanket draped over his lap.

“Why not?” Why didn’t he? Why wouldn’t he?

“I don’t know,” Ezra said in turn, watching him. “How is it any of your business?”

Oh. “But⸺”

The way Ezra narrowed his eyes immediately made Oz shut up and avert his eyes, warning bells ringing once more. But then, steeling himself, he directed his gaze back ahead and took one step forward, then another. Without another word, he walked over to Ezra. There they faced one another – and since the other was sitting down, Oz was now the one looking down upon him, if only in the physical sense.

Things didn’t remain that way for long though, because Oz bent down, leaning in to gently brush his fingertips against that exquisite expanse of pale neck, completely unmarred. Truly, what was the other thinking, wearing something as low cut as that? And truly, what was Oz thinking, taking such liberties?

“Ezra,” he said, swallowing as he properly picked up the other’s scent. He didn’t allow himself to fall though – didn’t allow himself to give in to temptation. Instead, even though it made his heart ache, he finally asked: “Is it truly over between us?”

Was it truly over between them? Was it over, before it had truly even begun?

“Gideon,” Ezra said, staring right back at him without flinching.

Oz didn’t flinch either though, staring right back into those maroon eyes.

“I don’t want it to be over,” he said, not lowering his gaze. “I mean, I know I messed up and I know that you were hurt, but⸺”

“I wasn’t hurt though,” Ezra said in turn. “I was upset. There’s a difference.”

Ah. “Well, I just want you to know that I am truly sorry for what I did, and that I sincerely hope that one day, you might find it in yourself to forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what exactly?”

For leaving without an explanation.

For that time he left him in favour of heading off to storm the Bastille.

For staying gone for so long, unable to answer even a single letter.

Truly, there was a bunch of things, and among them, there was also⸺

“The pocket watch,” he said, regretfully taking a step back to look around for his coat, wondering where it had possibly ended up. Then, figuring it was probably somewhere close to the front door, Oz went over there, looking around without finding anything. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t even seem to find his own shoes, which was strange, because Oz was positive that he had removed them upon entering, knowing that Ezra was firmly against people wearing shoes indoors. But if it wasn’t here, then where⸺?

The quiet rattle of a chain drew his attention back towards Ezra, who stood there with the pocket watch in his hand and a highly disquieting look on his face.

“It’s stopped.”

Ah. “I dropped it into a storm drain back in... well, 1973, I guess? I mean, I did drop it once before... during the whole thing over at the Bastille and all... and back then, you said... I mean, I’m pretty sure you told me not to come back until I’d found it again and...”

“But you did find it.”

Well⸺ “About two months ago?”

“Where?”

“At a garage sale in Massachusetts.”

“Really,” Ezra said, flipping the thing closed with a click. “Of all places.”

Well⸺ “The guy selling it said it had been his grandmother’s, and that she’d bought it as a souvenir from⸺”

“Gideon.”

Oz immediately stopped talking, standing stock still for a good moment as he watched Ezra. Then, noticing the slight softening of the other’s expression, he felt as though he could finally breathe again.

“Gideon,” Ezra said once more, sliding the watch back into his pocket before motioning for him to come – and come he did, because how could he say no to that?

Then, as Oz moved closer, his face was caught and held in-between those elegant, well-formed hands, all while those eyes stared so intensely into his. It frankly made him breathless, and Oz soon went down on one knee, experiencing that very same rush of awe that he’d felt the first time they’d met, all those centuries ago.

“Gideon,” Ezra said, and Oz forced himself to swallow, forced himself to keep his eyes from straying any lower. “Next time, come tell me directly, you fool.”

Oh. “There’ll be a next time?”

Hearing this, Ezra drew a thoroughly exasperated sigh, then pulled him into his embrace.

-

It’s been said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But if so, then what about proximity?

“Well,” said the bastard at the door. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Ezra – who’d known the bastard would show up but had still had his nap rudely interrupted – gradually inched his hand closer to the spray bottle standing just off to the side of the door. “Haven’t you already had your fun?”

“I thought you’d already run out of Holy Water though.”

Tch. “Would you like to put that to the test?”

“I’d rather you just invited me in, so that we can discuss this like civilised people, without you threatening to spray me like some misbehaving housecat.”

Ugh. “Fine. Get inside before the neighbours see you.”

Once inside, of course, the bastard wasted little time in pushing Ezra right up against the door to prod at the already healing puncture marks on his neck.

“Tch,” Lutz said. “Still no bedside manners at all, as expected.”

Hah. “Like you’re the one to talk.”

“Honestly...” The other took a step back and adjusted his tie as he looked around. “I see that you’ve redecorated. Revamped, I might even say.”

Really. “If you’re going to harp on my taste in home décor, then I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“Hoh?” Lutz said. “So, if I say nothing, that means I can stay?”

Really. “I’d rather you leave as soon as possible, and go about cancelling the wedding while you’re at it.”

Hearing this, the other sighed, pulling off his sunglasses, folding them and placing them neatly into his suit pocket.

“Why?” he then said, not replacing them with his usual frames. “What does that insipid little fool have that I lack?”

Hah. “Besides integrity, you mean?”

“I can assure you that I have plenty of integrity,” Lutz said. “I also have a great deal of wealth and talent, and enough of a brain to actually put it to good use.”

Well⸺ “Gideon’s not⸺”

“But Gideon’s not really here, now is he? And if he hasn’t recovered any of his memories in the last 400 years or so, will he ever?”

Yes, that was certainly one way of seeing it. Still⸺ “I said I’d wait for him. I said I’d wait for his return, however long it takes.”

“Well,” Lutz said. “And I say that waiting like that is the same as rotting, and that there are other and in my opinion far superior options available.”

Honestly⸺ “Haven’t you already had your fun, Lutz? You’ve already⸺”

“My fun, yes,” he interrupted, stepping in close and brushing Ezra’s hair aside. “But what about my fill? You sent him to me to get his paperwork fixed, no? Also, if I can’t have tax benefits, then...”

“Send me an invoice then,” Ezra said, swatting the hand away.

“Ah,” Lutz said, not deterred in the slightest. “What about alimony?”

Alimony? “You⸺”

Ezra might not have been any sort of legal expert, but he was damned pretty sure that you had to actually have been married for any sort of alimony to come into question. However, before he had the time to point that out, the bastard’s mouth was already on his neck and Ezra cursed, trying to pry him off.

This by no means proved easy however, because dealing with the bastard was akin to dealing with a bastard stemming from the unholy union of an octopus and a leech, and before Ezra knew it, his head had been pushed to the other side, baring a previously unmarked strip of flesh. “Lutz...”

The other bit down, obviously eager but oh so careful not to hit anything vital.

“Lutz...”

The other could either not hear him or was pretending not to, and in either case, Ezra wanted to bash his head in. But, as a sudden wave of vertigo crashed into him, he could only pull at the other’s head – at the other’s hair.

“Lutz...” He felt himself growing weak. “If you take any more, then I might...”

Dark spots bloomed across the corners of his eyes before rapidly spreading across his vision. Then he fell – just barely clinging to consciousness – into the waiting arms of another.

-

It was warm. Ezra was lying on something soft – the couch, probably – covered by the sort of heat that made it so tempting to just slip back under. He obviously wouldn’t though, and this had as much to do with his inherent stubbornness as it had with the cool fingertips rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand.

“Lutz,” Ezra mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes because how could it be any other?

“Ezra,” Lutz answered back evenly, not letting go, and Ezra briefly considered telling him to fuck off and never come back.

However, having already told the other words to similar effect on at least a half a dozen times prior, he knew well that it was a fruitless endeavour. Instead, Ezra said the next best thing that came to mind.

“You know... Gideon and I had a talk.”

“Hoh?”

Yes. “A talk about the wild goose chase he’s been on these last fifty years.”

“Ah, yes.” Lutz chuckled. “That one.”

Yes. “And that even though he had gotten my letters – forwarded by you – he wouldn’t answer any of them, because he was too scared to admit he’d lost that damned watch again.”

“Indeed,” the bastard swiftly agreed. “Foolish, isn’t he?”

Yes, foolish was indeed one word for it. That said however⸺ “But isn’t it a funny coincidence how a pocket watch supposedly lost down a storm drain in Prague would suddenly turn up at a garage sale in Massachusetts some fifty years later, right around the time I had accepted your proposal?”

“Indeed,” Lutz said. “But do you honestly think I had something to do with it? Please, I’ve got far better things to do.”

Sure. “Like murdering my other would-be suitors?”

“Ah.” Lutz chuckled. “Unfortunate accidents do happen, you know. Is there even the slightest shred of evidence that I’m responsible for any of them?”

Forcing his eyes back open, Ezra looked towards the shameless bastard and simply said: “I don’t suspect you because there’s evidence. I know it’s you because there’s none.”

“Ah.” The other bared his fangs. “And yet, you still agreed to marry me.”

“No,” Ezra said, baring his own. “I agreed to play along with this farce of yours, knowing that if Gideon was still out there somewhere, you wouldn’t miss the opportunity to rub it in his face.”

“Hoh?” Lutz leaned in. “Not even for tax benefits?”

Well, that was awfully rich of him to say, considering all the undeclared wealth he had stashed around in various places around the world. Still⸺ “You do realise that a significant part of the reason why we never worked out is because you are like that, right?”

Hearing this, the former Ludwig von Fuchs leaned back again with a mild scoff. “Oh please,” he said. “We worked out just fine until that insipid little fool came along.”

Ezra would of course beg to differ but he honestly had no intention of begging. Also⸺ “We broke it off a good century before Gideon returned.”

“Huh. Time sure flies, doesn’t it?”

Yes, it sure did, except when it did not. “Lutz.”

“Yes?”

“Cancel the wedding. I’ll pay the deposit or whatever, just⸺”

“Why?”

Why? Ezra thought, suddenly unable to keep his eyes open or even his head⸺

“Why though?” Lutz asked. “We’ve already put down the deposit for the venue, so why let it go to waste? Easier to just change the names on the invitations.”

Oh. How positively generous. “...What’s in it for you?”

What are you plotting?

“Well...” Cool lips pressed a kiss against his knuckles. “You’ll see. But for now, just rest. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

Bastard, Ezra thought, too exhausted to even pull his hand away or to open his eyes as there was suddenly a hand on his forehead as well, brushing his hair away with deliberate tenderness.

“Ezra, there’s no need to worry, no need whatsoever. You’re just going to take a little nap while I give the insipid little idiot a piece of my mind.”

The bastard’s tone proved immensely soothing, even though his words did not – as a matter of fact, they proved immensely concerning, and Ezra felt his brows twitch as he fought against the combined forces of exhaustion, warmth and subtle compulsion. “Lutz...”

“Ezra,” Lutz crooned right back, leaning in. “Go back to sleep. I guarantee you that the insipid little fool will still be alive and in one piece by the end of it.”

-

Lewis “Lutz” Amsel – formerly Ludwig von Graf and even more formerly Ludwig von Fuchs – smiled with great satisfaction as his former lover’s breathing finally evened out in sleep. Then, his good mood was noticeably soured by the realisation that the insipid fool was still around and apparent so conked out from gorging himself that he hadn’t even woken up. Honestly⸺

Looking down at Ezra, his expression noticeably darkened, and then he took the electric blanket, unplugged it, folded it and put it over his shoulder. Then, he reached down, lifting Ezra back into his arms and hoisting him up so that the other’s head was resting comfortably against the side of his neck.

“It’s a pity,” he muttered. “But...”

He trailed off, then sighed and walked over to the bedroom. He already knew where it was, of course, and since the door was slightly ajar, he needed only nudge it with his foot to get it fully open.

Then, Lewis stood there in the doorway, staring at the insipid little fool where he lay curled up in bed, effectively dead to the world. Honestly⸺ “If I’d known you’d turn out this pathetic, then I would’ve just finished the job. Honestly...”

Lewis trailed off, then looked down at Ezra, still slumbering peacefully in his arms – and although he did want to hold him like this for just a little bit longer, Lewis had places to be and things to arrange.

Thus, he walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down, Ezra on top of his lap. Then, he pulled out a sturdy high-neck collar, securing it around the other’s neck before laying him down and covering him with the blanket, plugging it back in.

“I’m sure you’ll be quite cross with me,” he then murmured, brushing aside those bangs once more. “But this is for your own good, because certain morons don’t know the meaning of self-restraint.”

With this said, Lewis got up and stalked over to the other side of the bed, regarding its other occupant with considerably less warmth. Then, he leaned in, grabbed hold of a lock of hair and yanked on it hard.

It worked too, and although that was on one hand satisfying, Lewis could not help but be a bit disappointed, seeing that dislocating one of the other’s fingers would’ve been next on the list. Still⸺ “Why hello, Gideon, did you miss me?”

“...Lutz? What are you doing here?” It actually took the fool that long to recognise him – and even longer to recognise him as a threat. Go figure.

“Why am I here, you ask?” Lewis smiled. “I was invited, and I’m here to give you a piece of my mind.”

The fool blinked, staring at him with obvious confusion – to think that this was what remained of his sire. How utterly infuriating. That said though⸺ “Look behind you.”

The fool immediately turned around to look, then gasped both from what he saw and from Lewis clamping a hand around the back of his neck.

“You know,” Lewis said, keeping his voice perfectly pleasant. “I really don’t approve. My Ezra deserves better than this – better than you. And if you continue to fail to meet my expectations, then I’ll be the one to marry him, not the one walking him down the aisle. Understood?”

The fool nodded – at least he was that smart.

“Good.” Lewis let go. “There are fresh blood bags in the fridge, so you may help yourself to those. Of course, if you do attempt to feed on Ezra, then I will cut your head off and mount it upon my wall. Understood?”

With this said, he got up and left. He did after all have a wedding to plan.

 

---

 

Author's Account:

Zaiakuma