Remind Me of the Heart(LittleRabbitXPotassiumboron)

It stung Elora deeply just how harsh, how violent Chaol was choosing to be with her. It was as though he was a whole new person, someone Elora barely recognized. Even after unlocking him from his tomb—the man hadn't acted quite like this. Perhaps that was because he was just freed, confusion and relief behind his main emotions. However this time, this time it was different. He was mad, an anger swelling within him that Elora didn't think he was capable of, an anger that she had not been expecting when he returned home and found her gone.

No, this was the last thing she was expecting and it left Elora terrified.

Despite the silence of his approach, Elora could feel the dread, the overwhelming oppression that surrounded Chaol. The hairs on the back of her neck standing up at his approach, her body already feeling something was wrong. Yet the woman tried to pay it no mind, half of her believing Chaol was still sitting in the car collecting himself. That he would wait for her to return to her room before he entered, as if not to get enraged by the sight of her once more.
Elora had hoped that was the case, that they could start over fresh the next morning.

However, hope has a way of being nowhere to be found when you actually need it. The slamming of the door caused the young woman to jump—flicking at the sound. Quickly spinning around to take in the sight of Chaol once more, and the mocking delight he got in the fact that he was scaring her.

With his approach, Elora kept taking a step back until she couldn't. The cruelty of his laughter echoing throughout the home, just as it had when he held control of the pathetic town below them.
Elora found…she did not like that laughter. Not in the slightest. It was too cold, too cruel, nothing like the laughter that had once poured from his mouth.

Before she could as much runaway, Elora found Chaol's hand around her neck. Cold fingers wrapping around one side before coming to the front, a whimper leaving her throat as he applied an uncomfortable amount of pressure. Forcing her to bare her neck just a little more, as if it would bring some kind of relief. Despite it being uncomfortable, Elora had to remind herself that he wasn't strangling her—that she was…okay.

She was okay, wasn't she?

The bag she had been holding fell to the floor with a dull thud. Elora's hands coming to grasp onto his wrist, pulling at it just as a spike of fear rushed through her. Her own doubt causing panic to overwhelm every other sense. Though her movement came to a pause as Chaol's head leaned down, his breath tickled the side of her neck as he spoke. His tone unfamiliar to the woman, haunting in a way that felt too dangerous, too ominous to be considered Chaol's. The sensation causing another shudder of fear within the woman, leaving her almost breathless.

"Chaol you are really scaring me, please stop." Came the soft beg, a plea Chaol had heard time and time before from each visitor of his humble home. Fear mixing in with each word she spoke, words that shook just as she did under his fingertips. "Chaol, I'm really sorry. I didn't think I'd run into you and you wouldn't have known. I know that doesn't make it any better, and I would have told you everyt—" a repressed sob broke Elora's voice, cutting her off just as tears began to spill over—staining her face, Elora squirming to get out of the vampires grip.

"Let go, we can talk about this in the morning." Although Elora was scared of Chaol, trembling and crying under his touch, Elora…still refused to see him as a monster. Even if she did—it wasn't something she wanted to voice out loud. She didn't want him to believe he was right, in thinking that the human before him only saw a monster. Even if he was, there was still the Chaol Elora had grown fond over in there somewhere. She didn't want to risk hurting that Chaol any further than he already was.
 
"Chaol you are really scaring me, please stop-- I didn't realise you were quite this hilarious, Elora," the vampire proceeded to openly mock, mimicking her pleading words by pitching his voice, drawing out the nature of it as a whine-- as though she was somehow worthy of ridicule for displaying so much understandable fear.

Ultimately, Elora couldn't win. If she held herself together and maintained a semblance of courage against the threat dawning itself onto her, then Chaol, in such a depraved sense of mind, would have been motivated to terrify her further; to resort to even crueller measures just toa drop f the fear he now craved. Yet, if she reacted with fear, as she was now, he would allow it to wash over him, stoking the callous nature that ultimately resided within him.

He wasn't... a monster, or at least he had the ability not to be one. He had proven himself capable of deep emotion: love, care, empathy, sincerity. He had displayed all such emotions when Athanasia was at his side, managing to restrain himself from the bloodshed he had been guilty of creating because he had at his side someone who believed in him; someone who promised him that he could be a better man and worked hard to allow him to see that for himself. To bring him light when all he had ever seen before it was an all-consuming, ever-present darkness.

Even in the short time he had known her, Elora evoked similar feelings in him. All at once, after a century of deprivation and believing himself to be lost, torn from his only genuine chance at happiness, that optimism for a brighter future had been restored, Elora's smile and her laughter and her teasing combining together to make Chaol believe that, perhaps, Fate had gifted him a second chance.

That the monster he thought he was wasn't... accurate. That, though he might have to do monstrous things to survive, he didn't have to be a monster. He could feed but do so carefully, without slaughter or enjoyment. He could be... good; enjoy companionship with someone who had already brought him more happiness than he thought possible.

And now he was here, soaking in her misery and delighting himself with her fear.

Of course, it wasn't... as if he was himself right now, capable of detaching himself from his instincts and recognising the cruelty he was exhibiting in tormenting the one person who his heart yearned for. Caused by anger and heightened by instincts, Chaol had reverted into himself, drawing on the nature that would always be part of who he was as a vicious predator - because it was easier to withdraw than it was to be present and accept the vulnerability, the feeling of weakness, that arrived when he considered how hurt he was.

How someone had managed to... make him care enough to be hurt by their actions.

Lips pressed firmly to her neck as he drank in her scent, a throaty chuckle vibrating against her skin as if he could taste the terror for himself. Eyes, soulless voids of vantablack, momentarily lifted to take in the tilt of her face away from his, the rigidity of her form against his hold only emphasising the power imbalance - the weakness of her fragility against the strength of his inhumanity.

And then, all at once, he tore his hand from her neck and took a step from her, still oppressive in his proximity but at least creating enough of a distance to allow her to breathe without him looming over her.

No parting words were offered, not even to taunt or ridicule or mock. No, without warning and without any indication of the plans that had formed, Chaol... disappeared, the only evidence that he had chosen to return to the night beyond the house being the open front door, flung ajar with such force that it barely managed to survive being torn off its hinges.

Elora may have been spared, emotionally scarred but at least physically unharmed, but the same wouldn't be said for whatever unfortunate human strayed into Chaol's path.

Because any of the strength he had displayed in allowing them to survive his clutches earlier in the night no longer remained. He had only displayed such strength for Elora, for the bond he felt they had together-- but when such a connection felt fractured now, dismantled by hurt feelings and betrayals, what reason was there for Chaol to keep fighting against his instincts?

To keep resisting the call to be the monster the town had once feared?
 
It was almost heartbreaking to hear Chaol mock her terror like he had. The vast enjoyment Chaol got, not bothering to hide how it fuels him. Playing into the nature that he had tried to keep buried—tried to keep away for Elora's sake.
Elora couldn't tell what hurt more at that moment. The fact that he got satisfaction in hurting her, or the fact that she was the cause of all of this. If she had to pick…it would probably be the latter. To see him in this frenzy-like state—it was something she never anticipated.

A slight whimper escaped her mouth as his lips touched warm skin. The woman closing her eyes tightly awaiting the pain of his fangs to pierce through the thin flesh. To drain her close to death just to satisfy the rage that consumed his entire being, blotting out any logic, any clarity that he once had.
Perhaps it was…best that he took that rage out on her. If it brought him back to his senses, knocked away the darkness that was swirling within the Chaol, if it meant that no one but her had to be hurt—perhaps…just perhaps it was the best option.

Just as she was about to accept her fate, to succumb to Chaol and allow him to do as he pleased, the pressure on her throat suddenly let up. The woman falling to her knees, all the strength leaving her body as she felt the pressure of the man step back, even if it was just slight. Breathing heavily, Elora could only bow her head, eyes opening to stare at the blurry floor under her. Trying to muster the strength to speak, to apologize to the vampire or to even stand up—yet she couldn't. Rooted, frozen in place quivering uncontrollably. The woman flinching at the loud bang of the door, only looking up to see what had happened.
The woman staring out into the night, tears dripping steadily down a pale face—a dull soreness hitting her ribs as she tried to gather her breath, tried to process what had just happened.

Yet—once more panic filtered through her being as she realized that someone else was now in danger of Chaol and his anger. At risk of his wrath, to be tortured perhaps to further extremes rather than just emotionally as she had been.
Elora toyed with the thought of staying at the house, to allow him to do as he pleased in the night—to take the life of some stranger that hardly bore any consequence to her. She thought about finding Frankie's number, to tell her what had happened—to speak of her fears to someone who might offer an ounce of comfort she desperately needed. Yet—she couldn't. Frankie hated Chaol so much already, this would only burn that hatred deeper. The witch believing she was right that he couldn't change, that he wouldn't.

Elora couldn't stand the thought some someone going missing, their family brought to shambles because she couldn't listen to a simple request. Couldn't bear the guilt of knowing this was entirely and utterly her fault. The guilt of knowing all of this would have been avoidable if she had just listened.
Even if no one blamed her, reassured Elora that it was Chaols choice, his doing that caused innocent peoples their deaths—she would have known the truth. That she was the only one to blame. The caused for such a horrible shift in the man, one that she was beginning to believe—hoped that was also out of Chaols control.
It was a naive hope, but she wanted to believe so badly that Chaol was a good person. Wanted others to see that he wasn't a monster that had no thoughts or feelings—only controlled by bloodlust, consumed with a fever to feed.

It was the why Elora finally gathered herself, rushing out into the night—calling the vampires name as she tried to intersect his movement to town. Tripping over loose gravel, her sight blurred and throat burning—but she wanted to stop him. Wanted to keep Frankie from knowing she was right all along, wanted to preserve the man that Athanasia had brought fourth.
Adrenaline kept her from feeling the cold, from logically thinking of taking the car and spending into town. Fear for the safety of others kept staying home and counting her blessings, to wait until morning and hope that Chaol would be back. She wasn't sure what the right action to take was. Elora was terrified of the man, yet she couldn't keep him alone as he was. Couldn't allow him to slip even further into his rage and do something he would possibly regret.

She had to find him, one way or another.
 
Fuelled by anger, Chaol didn't know where he was going but he did know what he was going to do, his mind solely focused on fulfilling the intensity of his thirst. His throat possessed an ever-present burn no matter how much he drank to quell its presence, but he had learnt how to control it enough to move through life without being drawn to utter despair by the pain it evoked. Such control came with age and a great deal of willpower, the former helping him to adjust and the latter being something he had to force himself to build up if he wanted to stand any chance at some sort of life outside of his feeds.

Of course, when he had been first turned, there was no control. Every second of his existence during that time was entirely torturous, the pain often so unbearable and the fear that he would end up hurting his parents who were still alive and living within the manor at the time being so intense that he would lock himself int he very basement that he would eventually be confined to decades later, screaming and crying as he proclaimed that he was safer alone; that his life was destined to be consumed by that loneliness because that was the only way he felt he could guarantee everyone's safety from him.

With control, however, came the descent into the vampiric nature that had come to dominate; the so-called 'monster' that would torment the town whenever he desired it because he had control and could choose to inflict terror whenever he saw fit to. Inevitably, such moments only arrived because he felt he had nothing to fight for, nothing to fight off the thirst and the temptations for - until Athanasia arrived.

But she was gone and Elora had only proven to him that he had been a fool to think he was capable of that change; that there was anything worth fighting off the draw to his depravity when... he wasn't human anymore.

Why try to fool himself into living a life resembling one when such a sacrifice wasn't going to be appreciated?

If the one person he was trying to change for didn't care to listen?

He had tried to protect her from seeing him like this, captivated by his hunger and allowing it to meddle with his personality - but she hadn't listened. She had tempted fate and ventured into the town.

Perhaps it was best she did so.

Perhaps she should see the monster beneath the mask; the threat that Chaol would always possess and could never completely abandon.

No longer caring to fight against the burn in his throat but embrace it and all the instincts that drove him on to satisfy it, it didn't take long for Chaol to stumble upon a human, drunken and nauseous. There was no flirtation needed, no charm deployed-- because this wasn't one of Chaol's usual feeding sessions where he had control of himself enough to employ subtlety and feed discreetly. That man had disappeared, replaced instead by someone who was single-minded, blind to the dangers that came with so openly throwing the human against the wall and sinking his teeth into their neck.

If anything, Chaol, in the state he was in, almost welcomed discovery and the chaos it would unravel.

It would just be a justification to unleash terror.

Feeling the strength abandon the human in his arms, a growl emerged satisfactorily from the base of his throat as he continued to drink int heir blood. The strong alcohol flowing through their veins gradually served to intoxicate him in return, numbing his senses - but nothing could actually numb his taste, the slight tang to the blood addictive and encouraging him to drink more; hold the human tighter until he could almost sense their bones about to break in the strength of his grip--

He pulled back and allowed the human to drop to the ground before that could be the case, his chest heaving from the use of his energy. He could hear the heartbeat continue to pump, faint but thankfully still present-- though he had every intention to end it; to shut the thud of the muscle up and allow silence to reign. Blood dripped from his lips, staining his chin, though no move was made to clean himself up - because he had no care in this state; no consideration for subtlety.

When he was like this, sunk to such depths, he didn't care if he was discovered; if someone stumbled upon his monstrous appearance and monstrous actions.

What did it matter when he could just end their life before they could open their mouth to scream for help?
 
How thrilling must it have been to be cloaked in the darkness of night, allowing oneself to lose themselves to it? Becoming the monster that everyone believed you to be. The thrill of proving everyone right, the satisfaction of seeing the fear in their eyes. Taste the anxiety and terror by simply passing by, that alone was truly intoxicating. The sensation similar to taking a drug, feeling its call constantly until finally giving in to it—the euphoria that nothing else could ever compare to. Knowing that you were better, stronger than the rest of society.
That you could bring the world down to its knees with a flick of your hand, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Even if Chaol had managed to snap out of his fury, to realize just what his actions were doing, not just to the townspeople but to Elora too, the night would still call him. Ask him why he was pretending to be something he wasn't. Was his sanity with it for a woman, a human that no longer exists? Someone who had left him behind didn't even bother to try and rescue the vampire when she knew he would go to extreme lengths if it had been her trapped in that insufferable basement.

The only one that had Choal's best interest at heart was himself, in the state that he currently was in. Even Elora didn't care enough about Chaol, did not care to heed his warnings—acknowledge his concern and care he had for her. Oooh no, she was just like everyone else, she deserved to suffer—deserved to live in terror just like everyone else would. Once Chaol had his fill and reclaimed this town for his own.
There was no one there for Chaol, his only chance at happiness had left long, long ago. It was better this way—-safer for him to live as he was.

That faint whispering wind did nothing to ease the vampire's rage—only encouraging him to go further into madness, to find other victims. To kill without any sense of mercy. The wind allowing the vampire to know that he was right in every fear and doubt that no one truly cared for him. That the last good thing in his life was long gone and never coming back. That he was all alone.


Yet, if all the was true, then why did Chaol suddenly find the warmth of a pair of arms around his waist? Clinging tightly to his suit, cling tightly to him. If he was so alone—then why was it that he could hear the harsh beating of a heart in his ears? The harsh breathing of someone who had been running, only stopping when they slammed themselves into his side?
If he was such a monster, then why would someone approach him with that much frantic energy? To bury their head into his side, claiming they weren't going to let go until he calmed down. If no one cared for him, then why was Elora there? Hair sticking to her face due to tears and now sweat.

While she was still terrified of the man, knowing what he could and would easily snap her in half if he so chooses—she couldn't leave him in the state he currently was in. She couldn't allow him to find another person to suck his fangs into—even if he were to shove her away. Ridicule her, physically harm her, Elora was going to find him and cling to him once more. Doing it for however long it took for him to stop.

"Chaol…please let's just go home. I didn't mean to hurt you like this. I know you are mad and you have every right to be. You aren't a monster or demon or anything others would say. You are just hurt, and I hate that I'm the cause for it. I don't know what to do to make up for it, but I'll try. Just…come home, please."
 
Darkness.

That was all that Chaol could see; sense. He felt it consuming him entirely as he stood over the barely-breathing human at his feet, the whispers of the wind urging him to lean down and crush them, rob them of their breath and leave them lifeless, awaiting another human to stumble upon the horrifying, scarring discovery. Such whispers were equally as intoxicating to the vampire as he felt himself becoming swayed by their murmurings, lured ever further into the embrace of the darkness.

Because why bother to fight it when that only brought him pain? He clung to his emotional sensibilities and that exposed him to hurt, to betrayal, to disappointment. If he embraced the darkness, the shadows, he could spare himself such pitiful emotions and cut himself off entirely from their consequences.

It wasn't the life he wanted to lead, which was why he had resisted becoming the being that he had once tormented the village as. Athanasia might have perished but her influence on him, the love that she shared, had opened him up to experiences that he struggled to close himself off to. Even with her gone, Chaol had still emerged from his imprisonment a century after being forced into the chest with a view on holding onto that hope; the idea that he could embrace this new world and its modern influence as the man that Athanasia had helped him realise he always was.

He could have easily emerged from the chest as the monster he believed himself to be. Even if he had threatened Elora and treated her with cold contempt, there had still been control exhibited to not tear her to pieces despite the ache in his throat; some genuine attempt made to bargain and reach compromises, rather than simply toss her out of his home and leave her to fend for herself.

Because Athanasia had changed him - and even after decades, that was still the mindset that Chaol wanted to cling to; that was still the man he wanted to be. Not necessarily someone who shared smiles and offered out kindness to everyone, but at least someone who... wasn't like this.

The vampiric monster who killed whatever got in his way and mocked, ridiculed, tormented those that meant something to him, deep down in his cold, unbeating heart.

...But then there was a flicker amongst that blackness. A light, emerging at first as something as small as the flame of a candle before growing, bursting into life and clearing the darkness; warming the cold.

Elora.

For a few seconds, Chaol stood unresponsive to her presence, his body remaining sturdy and rigid in her arms because it wasn't easy to suddenly return to the man she knew. He couldn't simply pull himself out of the hole he had willfully descended into. He needed to make a concerted effort to dig himself up, clamber out of the darkness and deafen himself once again to the luring whispers of his temptations. He had to fight against his instincts, reinstate control regardless of how agonising it was to have to contend with the pounding in his head, the aching in his throat, the return of the emotions he had desperately tried to block away.

But then he locked eyes with the human at his side, his head tilted to take her in. Despite the soulless black remaining in place, the hazel as of yet nowhere to be seen as the vampiric appearance seemingly clung to him, there was no anger, no mocking smirks, no derisive chuckles. That, at least, was a sign that he was listening; taking in her pleas rather than batting them aside and making a quick meal of her.

No, Chaol was... responding, even if he did so voicelessly and without action.

Eventually, however, he nodded. The move was small, barely noticeable, but the rigidity of his body dissipated to solidify his intentions. He remained in a blur, his expression lost and vacant as the enormity of what he had committed, the cruelty of his actions, gradually began to dawn on him.

How much he had put at risk and how close he had been to losing it all; losing himself.

He had wanted to spare Elora from seeing him feed and yet... she had now seen him at his worst, exhibiting behaviour he thought he had confined to his past.

And yet... she was still here; still reassuring him.

Still... believing in him.

He wanted to say something; anything. A word of gratitude, an emotional murmur of appreciation for her intervention, even a teasing quip playfully mocking her for her continued belief when she had every reason to abandon him and run for the hills... but no words would arrive. When he had sunk to these depths, it would be a while for full clarity to return - and its progress wasn't helped by the alcohol that also ran through his veins, the strength of it (and his decades of having remained free of the effects of it) meaning he now stumbled tipsily, vision blurred and head swimming with the effect of his drunkenness.

But at least he wasn't fighting against Elora. He was leaning into her embrace, ready and willing to be guided back to the manor.

Back home.
 
Elora hadn't been expecting the vampire to respond as calmly as he had. The woman preparing herself to be knocked back, to steady herself—throw herself back at the vampire. Attempting to hold him hostage in her embrace until he stopped struggling, or until he damaged her to the point that she couldn't move. Clinging to the man like a parasite that was impossible to get rid of.
Thankfully, her actions did not cause more anger from Chaol to burst forward. Instead of pushing her away, he simply turned to look at her—dark eyes absorbing her once more. Though there was a registration that hadn't been there before—a slight clarity from the insanity that had once consumed Chaol. It was very small—almost hard to see, yet nonetheless it was there.

The night howled in defeat as the human woman slowly broke through the dark shell that had encompassed Chaol. Creating just a big enough dent for him to begin his crawl back to the surface. A relieved sigh slowly passed through the other's lips, her eyes slowly trailing to the body that was just barely breathing. Lucky for them they were just in the alley by the back door of the bar. Someone was sure to find them by the time the bar closed—still, it didn't stop Elora from pounding on the backdoor to get the workers' attention. By the time they opened it, the only one left in the alley would be the victim of Chaol's bloodlust.

Truthfully Chaol didn't have to say anything, didn't have to make a sound for Elora. She was happy with just him leaning into her—taking it as a sign that he was slowly coming down from the anger that had been all-consuming. Without thinking about it her arms pulled from him, hands coming to cup his cheeks—the woman placing a kiss on his forehead before resting her own forehead against his. "Let's get you home." Elora hummed once more—Removing her hands from his bloody face Elora grabbed onto his hand. Holding it tightly, giving a reassuring squeeze as she lead him back through the town. Silently taking him back to the manor where he could rest once more.

The trip back to the house was a rather silent one, although Elora had broken it once or twice to apologize for not bringing her car—to apologize for how cold it was. One of the two things completely out of her control. Even so, his human companion couldn't deny the silence was a welcomed one. A sound much better than the mocking hissing anger she had endured. As the adrenaline began to die down, Elora couldn't deny the chill that was setting into her bones, goosebumps dancing along her body as the chill of the night shivered itself down her spine.

Thankfully, by then the two were just approaching the manor. The soft yellow light from inside became like a welcoming beacon. The front door standing wide open still, Elora having no time to think about closing it as she chased after Chaol—though as they walked through she did pause to close and lock it. Though—she realized they were going to have to replace it now—the sides of the doorframe cracked from the hard slamming of Chaol.

"I never did like that door anyways. Didn't feel like it fit in with the rest of the house. You'll have to come with me to find a replacement." Perhaps there was still some hope to mend the relationship between Chaol and herself, the woman still making plans with a man who had left his own scars across her mind. Dipping into her subconscious where she would have nightmares about him when she least expected it. Changing her view of how she had once seen the man before her—yet Elora tried to pretend it had done no such thing.
Tenderly leading the now tipsy Chaol up the stairs, slowly as to keep him balanced. Taking him into his room where she had him sit on the bed. Kneeling to take his shoes off, his jacket off—making Chaol comfortable before she gently pressed him onto the bed.
Tending to him in a manner that he did not quite deserve after his treatment of her. Yet—she couldn't help it. They each did wrong to one another—and she was sure Chaol would have to make up to her about it as well. However, tonight it was her duty to mend the hurt he was obviously in, her own hurt could wait until he was better.

Pulling the sheets over the man she pardoned herself for a few moments, coming back with a wet rag. Kneeling on the ground to not stand over the man, nor sitting beside him on the bed to crowd his space, Elora began dabbing at the blood that stained porcelain skin. Glancing at the red that splattered the front of his shirt from his latest victim. "I can try to clean the blood off of that tomorrow. However, we might just have to cut it as a loss and get you a new one." Humming softly, Elora kept her voice low. Cautious to any inflections in his mood.
 
In truth, Chaol was more or less a doll; some puppet that could be guided and led whichever way Elora chose, because there was a distinct lack of agency or independent thought making its way to the forefront of the vampire's mind. He had effectively chosen to shut down; to cut himself off from being present in the moment when doing so would only force him to contend with the guilt and the horror that would inevitably accompany his realisations.

It wasn't a new coping mechanism, the vampire having chosen to rely upon it in his past when, shortly after news of Athanasia's death, he went off the rails and lost himself to his bloodthirst, his anger and his grief. Even without someone at his side to help pull him back from the brink, he had somehow sobered up enough from the enormity of his pain to recognise the mess he had gotten himself into and the only way he knew how to recover was to, at first, shut down. He retreated to the manor and cleaned himself up, the days that followed passing in a blur, with Chaol only operating on standby rather than be present and fully conscious of his movements.

Now was no different.

Like the past, he found himself reverting into that closed state of mind, barely acknowledging what was happening around him or even being capable of recognise the soothing words and the physical acts of support shown to him by an ever loyal Elora. Rather, Chaol sat in bed with his eyes staring down at the blood soaking his nimble fingers, the red visceral and shocking against the paleness of his hands. His mind remained foggy, any noise muffled before it could register in his brain as though he was under the water's waves, floating aimlessly in the water in his inability to penetrate the mental block and reach the surface again.

But the state he was in was at least... part of the recovery process.

Rather than retreat into the anger, he was actively trying to move forward-- even if he had to take a step backwards in order to do so.

His eyes did flicker to land on her face after several minutes of an averted gaze, recognition of her effort momentarily dawning on his features before he glanced away again - any conscious thought or desire to remain in the presence of the moment disappearing from him almost as soon as it had arrived.

There was very little else that Chaol was capable of besides staring down at his hands and allowing the other to tend to his needs without interjection or interruption - or without any attempt made to even acknowledge her, a quick glance or slight nod of his head being all he was seemingly capable of providing her.

If the sight wasn't pitiful enough, his decision to quietly turn onto his side and rest his head down onto the pillow without consideration for how vulnerable the position made him appear to be emphasised it more than anything else could. Ordinarily, he would never have allowed Elora to see him like... this, curled up onto his side and staring at the wall behind her, but this wasn't any ordinary situation. This was a necessary respite from his thoughts and emotions, a step to regaining his sanity and renewing clarity, but it left him an empty vessel; a shell of his former self who would need time to restore himself to his previous glory.

To the man that Elora had gotten to know and believe in.
 
It was a pitiful sight indeed to see Chaol in his current state. As though he was shell-shocked from the anger that had consumed him, unable to confront the destruction it had brought. Burying himself deep inside his own mind, to a place where he was safe—where others were safe from such strong emotions. And while it was sad, Elora understood it was a necessity. Chaol needed this time to gather himself, to let the burning heat of anger simmer off until it was completely gone. So, she was fine tending to him, making him as comfortable as she possibly could. Elora took his silence in stride, not expecting a response or any kind of acknowledgment. Accepting him as he was in that instant, letting Chaol process in a way that made sense to him.


Taking his hand into her own, Elora worked on washing the blood from them. Tenderly yet firmly scrubbing each finger, the palm of his hands, until the blood was just a slight stain against pale skin. Elora operated in silence beside him. Observing how Chaol curled in on himself only to stare at the vacant space just beyond Elora. Still unable to meet her gaze for long then just a brief second.
"So—" a soft voice breaking through the silence of the room, Elora leaning back on her heels to study Chaol's stoic face.

"When I was younger, there was this party I desperately wanted to go to. All my friends were going. Everyone I talked to at school was talking how this boy, Arron was his name by the way—had the biggest crush on him, would throw the best parties. His parents weren't going to be home so it would be just a group of dumb kids making horrible choices. Obviously, I had to go, right? I didn't want to be the only kid who didn't go.
So I begged and begged my parents to let me go. But they wouldn't budge on their answer, which was hell no. They saw through all my lies—"No Mom there wouldn't be alcohol." "But his parents will be supervising." "Amber's parents are letting her go." Yet they still wouldn't let me attend. So I did the only other rational thing and snuck out."

Pausing Elora shifted back to sit on her knees. Sitting the rag aside before moving forward to brush a stand of Chaols hair back. "I don't know how but they found the party and brought me back home. I yelled at them all the way back. Cried about how they embarrassed me, told them I hated them and they were horrible parents. Just a total meltdown—I didn't even talk to them for a few days."

Chuckling at her younger self— finding it hard to believe her own stupidity to think that was the worst moment of her life. To believe that party was the deciding factor in which way her life would go. She was so stupid back then, and still had a lot to learn even now. But she was grateful to her parents for putting up with her all those years. She wasn't sure how they didn't disown her after all her temper tantrums, but she was glad they didn't. Appreciative of the patience they instilled in her, even to this day.
She was going to have to visit them at some point, offer a fresh vase of flowers as an apology.

Tilting herself just slightly, Elora placed herself in Chaol's line of sight. A patient smile easily finding its way to her face, unsure if he had even registered the story she told him.
"Chaol—-the point I'm trying to make is that we all do stupid things sometimes. More so when we are in the heat of our emotions. We hurt people close to us, we say and do things we don't mean.
Yet those moments are not what define us as good or bad. It's what you decide to do after those moments that really define you. And guess what Chaol, you are still human at the end of the day. You are still going to make mistakes. You are never going to be a perfect god-like being. But that's okay. No one is expecting you to be this godly creature who has control of himself all the time."

Pausing the woman watched Chaol for a long moment before sighing and standing back up.

"If it's any consolation, I don't hate you. I just hate how everything played out tonight."

With those words, Elora left Chaol alone in his room—with his thoughts as she worked on shutting the house up for the night. Eventually, she came back, however, a pillow in one hand, dragging the comforter from her bedroom in the other. Pausing for a moment to turn the light off, Elora haphazardly tossed the pillow and blanket on the floor — beside Chaol's bed. "I hate being alone when I'm really sad."
Laying down she turned on her side to face Chaol, looking up at him from her place on the floor. "Get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow we will sort everything else out—I promise."
 
The lesson of the story wasn't lost on Chaol. Even in the midst of his breakdown, with his thoughts threatening to spiral if he didn't shut himself down as severely as he had, Elora's words still managed to resonate. They were muffled and murmured, distant and detached, but they pierced the membrane of his self-imposed cocoon nonetheless, reaching the inner depths of the vampire's mind that had otherwise been determined to be locked away from all interaction.

He didn't visibly respond to the tale, nor offer any vocalisation to indicate that he had even taken the words and the consideration of their message in, but they had landed and made an impact. When his clarity renewed itself, he would look back on this moment as evidence of Elora's bewildering loyalty to him - and though it confused him, he would be touched by the dedication of it.

Why she was so keen on believing he was a good person when he had only shown her otherwise was beyond him, admittedly. His interactions with her had mostly been negative, interspersed occasionally with the teasing remarks and lighter energy that mostly only served as rarities amongst the grumpiness, the arrogance, the cruelty. Yet, it was those interactions that Elora seemingly clung to, believing them to be emblematic of Chaol's true nature beneath the self-imposed 'monster' label.

That that was who he was at his core.

He wanted to believe that that was the case; that he was the man that Elora believed he not only could be but already was. He wanted to have that same faith in himself that she found. He wanted to work once again to repair the damage to his image in her eyes and represent the person she had so much optimism in. The person that... she had bonded with.

The person he felt... confident, comfortable, content being.

Perhaps that was why he rose in the morning with his convictions renewed as strongly as they were. Elora's words from the previous night proceeded to sound in his head, albeit this time clearly and without any dreamy quality tainting the effect. They landed with the strength they had been designed to impart onto Chaol, and though his emergence back into a clear state of mind brought with it memories of his cruelty towards Elora and the fear he had caused in her, thus stirring up a guilt that made him want to scream in disgust at himself, continuing to self-sabotage over hurt feelings would only repeat the cycle.

He needed to gather himself. He had made a mistake -albeit a monumental one- and now he had to acknowledge it and prove with action that he was better than that sort of depravity. He was still arrogant, still grumpy, still unfathomably smug... but he could possess those qualities and still be the man that Elora saw and connected with.

The man he wanted to be not only for her, but for himself.

Optimism strangely flooded him as he sat up in bed to take in Elora sleeping soundly on the floor beside it. He was perhaps foolish to think she would ever seek anything romantic with him when he had acted so appallingly towards her the day before - after all, why would anyone willingly tie themselves to someone who could flip at any moment? Someone who felt the constant call to sink into his monstrousness and could fail in the fight with no warning?

But he had to try; he had to fight it. He had managed to do so for a century now, not losing himself to the call even when he had been confined to a coffin and had every reason to listen to those murmured voices insisting he cave and get his revenge on the town for their blindness to his absence. Instead, he emerged from the chest and... though he had threatened Elora he had remained in control of the worst of his abilities, remaining himself and forcing aside the lures of the darkness.

If he could do it for a century, he could do it again - for another century. Then another. And another.

He could do this. He just had to believe in himself - and look for support when he feared his grip on his sanity was slipping once again.

And though he didn't wish to ever place Elora in a position of such danger, who else could he turn to for help when she was all he had in the world?

She was... his only friend. His only ally.

The only person he... felt he could be truly himself around.

Needing to shower to rid himself of the scent of blood still clinging to his skin despite all signs of it having been carefully washed by Elora's hand, Chaol rose to trail into the bathroom. The shower still confused him and he had yet to actively begin one by himself, but he couldn't stir Elora for help.

He didn't want to terrify her by stirring her from her sleep and forcing her to see him stood over her. After last night and the mockery he had imparted with, the way he dominated her space and shoved her into his presence, it was best not to put himself in any situation that could inadvertently trigger those flashbacks for her. No, he would figure the shower out by himself... however long it eventually took him to manage to get the temperature as hot as he needed it to be to cleanse him.

It would be half an hour before he emerged, clean and scented from the bergamot body wash. Steam rose from his skin as entered the bedroom, a towel around his waist concealing his lower half being all that clung to his body as he flung open the wardrobe to take in the outfits lining it - all old and archaic, belonging to a time that no longer held relevance.

But his new clothes had been stained and he knew from experience that nothing would remove the blood lining the fabric.

Grunting in annoyance, he opened the balcony doors and wandered out to take in the rising sun, letting his eyes close as he drank in the feel of its rays against his bare chest. Birdsong usually irked him but he found it peaceful that morning as he held the railing beneath his hands, the birds fluttering about and singing some melody that soothed his overactive mind, clearing it of the guilt and the worries that cluttered it. They would return in force, but for now, for a moment, Chaol was... relaxed. At peace.

Feeling more like himself again.
 
It was probably for the best that Chaol had let Elora sleep after the events from the prior night. The vampire was right to believe he would frighten the woman if he just stood over her and waited for Elora to awaken—or worse, attempted to shake her from her sleep.
A sleep that was rather deep— dreamless, or at least if she was dreaming Elora did not remember any of it. The woman only stirred slightly when she heard the shower rushing to life—pulling the blanket over head as if to block out the noise.

It had made little to no sense why Elora would lower herself to such a level. Laying on the ground like a loyal dog—awaiting their master to wake up and readily greet them. She could have just slept in her own room, in a comfortable bed with decent sleep—greet Chaol whenever he chose to come downstairs. If he ever came downstairs.
Yet she had chosen to lay there, to be close to Chaol just in case he needed comfort or reassurance that night. In case he needed her.

Perhaps that was a rather selfish tho, if not in poor taste given how he had treated her the night before. Who was to say he wouldn't wake up, see her, and become fully enraged yet again? Who was to say she was safe laying there beside his bed, vulnerable to another attack?
Facing dire consequences if Chaols mood just happened to sour upon waking. Upon remembering why he was so angry to begin with.

Yet, with the heart of a fool, she wanted to believe he would be better upon resting. That vacant, sad expression of his had gave Elora some hope that the morning would be different. Even if he wasn't fully better when she opened her eyes, she had hoped to see some form of familiarity within the man. His eyes perhaps a little lighter, more aware of his surroundings—mind more stable and reactive. More than just a broken shell of the man she had once known.

With some luck, that foolish belief seemed to be blessed into existence.

The sound of footsteps within the room, the creaking of the balcony door—the loud, pleasant song of the birds breaking through the silence within the room caused Elora to rise from her sleep. Ever so slowly the woman sat up, allowing the blanket that once encompassed her entire body, to into her lap—a sleepy gaze peering at the empty bed beside her. Slight confusion as to where she was, and why she was on the floor. The confusion only deepened as it registered that Chaol was no longer laying there.

Eyes trailing the room, she finally landed on Chaol as he stood outside, greeting the day. The faint smell of his body wash wafting to Elora as she became more aware of her surroundings. The sweet citrusy smell clashing slightly with the cool breeze the dawning day brought.

She was…surprised that Chaol had managed to start the shower on his own accord. Impressed that he had figured it out after just once of showing him—oblivious to how long it actually took Chaol to get it running.

As her senses became clearer—so did the pain that traveled well over her body. Blue eyes were slightly swollen from the crying she had done the night before, her body sore from all the running and tripping she endured on her way to find Chaol. Each muscle fiber punishing her for being so careless, for all the tension she had brought onto herself. Her throat raw from yelling Chaols name over and over as she chased after him.
Though—it was all things that were easy to cover up, she just needed to take some painkillers. Elora putting such trivial matters to the side.

Slowly rising, Elora stumbled her way to the balcony doors— the blanket wrapped tightly around her body. Cocooning her in a comfortable warmth. "Good morning—how are you feeling?" A mumble of words still groggy with sleep—Elora still barely realizing Chaol stood in nothing but a towel.
 
He knew she was awake even before she made a move to push herself up from the floor, the change in her heartrate alerting him to the fact she had pulled herself from her subconsciousness. The thought of having to communicate with her, having to look her int he eye as more memories of his behaviour last night came rushing to the fore understandably made him feel nauseous, his grip on the balcony railing tightening to the point that he could feel the metal begin to bend, its structure warping as a result of his strength--

Quickly, he tore his hands away before he could break it entirely, exhaling a sharp breath into the light morning breeze to collect himself. He couldn't avoid Elora forever if they resided under the same roof - as large as the manor was, it was naivety to believe he could operate a life secluded from her without their paths ever crossing.

And that wasn't a life he particularly wanted for himself, anyway. He was fond of his isolation and preferred his own company over sharing anyone else's - but Elora wasn't just anyone. She wasn't some random citizen of the town who Chaol barely cared about, who would only receive a grumpy frown from him or a charming smile, falsified and ingenuine, if he needed to satisfy his bloodthirst for a few minutes. No, Elora received genuine emotion from him, positive and sincere, because, whether he liked it or not, she had quickly made an impact on him and penetrated the walls that he thought nobody would scale after Athanasia.

How wrong he had been.

No, he would have to eventually face her and subsequently the consequences of his actions, even if those only seemed to be the monumental depth of his guilt - and, more importantly, the potential that he had disrupted a connection with Elora before it even had a chance to thrive. To flourish.

He wouldn't blame her if she resented him - or at the very least, chose to maintain a distance because of the fear he had not only caused in her but actively derived pleasure from. The fact she remained at his side all night perhaps countered that belief, but her own clarity might return to her in the morning; some immediate revelation dawning upon her that she had acted naively by remaining so close to him and decided abruptly to guarantee herself her life by leaving the one she currently had in his presence.

That potential seemed less likely when he sensed her approach, with her enquiry regarding his feelings only cementing the fact that she wasn't about to take her hurried leave, however wise she would be to do so. Instead, she seemed... dedicated to stay; dedicated to his well-being and his recovery. Part of him wanted to yell at her for her idiocy, force her from the house so he didn't put her at risk and be to blame for her death as he felt he had been for Athanasia's... but another part of him wanted to rejoice in the relief that came with knowing that he hadn't... pushed Elora away.

That she remained here, with him, present and compassionate.

Eventually gathering enough inner strength to dare a glance back at her, he was hit with guilt all at once at the sights of her puffy eyes and sound of her strained voice, both emblems of the tears and the yells she had, in panic and desperation, expressed the night before. As easy as it was to brush her aside and withdraw into himself again to block out the guilt, Chaol instead exhaled slowly, deliberately, to force aside that temptation.

He was no good to anyone if he reverted back into that solitude and when it would only worry Elora further, he had to fight to keep it at bay. Fight through the guilt and remain present.

"Probably not as dreadful as you feel, I imagine-- given you think it's appropriate to scoot about wrapped up in your duvet like that. Have a little decorum, Elora. You are a lady - and ladies ought not to appear as you do. That said, I'm a gentleman, a Lord, and I'm stood before you unclothed, which, given we're not betrothed or to be wed, is rather... rude of me. Certainly daring," he mused thoughtfully as he cast a glance down at his bare form, a smile residing amusedly at the teasing quips leaving his lips, the nature of them light and natural - as his interactions with Elora ought to be.

He glanced back over at her and allowed the smile to remain on his face, the hazel of his eyes, with their flickers of green, lit by the sun that illuminated his tanned features. Broadening the smile, the sharp fangs that had torn so effortlessly through his victims the night before were no longer to be seen, replaced instead by the far more comforting flat, straight white of his human-like teeth instead.

It had taken a while, and he wasn't completely back to how he was when his thoughts still tormented him... but Chaol had managed, somehow, to pull himself back from the brink; clung to what humanity remained in him rather than throwing himself into the embrace of darkness.

"...I'm okay, truly," he answered with more sincerity, knowing better than to bat aside the other's kindness with teases when she would be seeking a serious answer from him. Setting his gaze back on the sunrise, he took a moment to enjoy the birdsong before he considered interrupting it with further elaboration.

"I don't often utter these words, because I don't care about enough people to feel remorse for my actions, but last night, what I did to you-" He grimaced, his hands returning to the railing just for something to hold onto. "--I'm sorry, Elora. I--don't want to hurt you. Never... never you. I-- shouldn't have reacted as I had. I wanted to protect you from seeing me feed, to preserve a certain image of myself for you, and instead you-- you saw me at my very worst and not even Athanasia saw me that way, I-- I'm sorry, truly I am."
 
  • Like
Reactions: LittleRabbit
A slight frown adored the young woman's face as Chaol teased her for how she shuffled about the room. Daring to judge her for being comfortable, or at least semi-comfortable as she retained her body heat. Though with her scoff and frown, there was also relief filtering through. Happy that he was speaking—able to form coherent sentences. Aware of his surroundings and her questions—having the energy to joke like he had before his anger consumed him. A complete change from the husk of a man she had witnessed last night. From the demon she had bore witness to, who had unleashed his wrath upon.

No—this was the Chaol she was use to. The one she was comfortable with—whose moodiness and stubbornness she could handle. Even if he was a tad bit more timid in the way he spoke, as though he was worried or scaring her off at any second. At least for now, she recognized the man before her.

Any other time Elora would have been immediately embarrassed seeing just the bare chest of Chaol. Her face showing a bright shade of red, quickly pulling her eyes away from the other. Perhaps covering her head with her blanket, however, at that very second Elora couldn't stop looking at Chaol's eyes. The woman seeming to visibly relax more as beautiful shades of amber, greens, and browns caught in the sun's rays. Twinkling with a light that had been missing the night before, no longer dark soulless voids she had found herself previously drowning in.

"I think you are just jealous of how good I look. I am wearing the finest duvet from Target. A true fashion statement." Elora huffed, a faint smile falling to her face for a mere second. After a passing beat, the woman finally took Chaol in at his entirety. The man wrapped in only a towel, chest exposed to the chilly air. Showing off the physic that he hid under his clothing.

It wasn't hard to understand why Athanasia would spend countless nights curled up in his arms —married or not.


Elora cursing herself as she felt her face grow hot, turning her head away as to avoid ogling at the vampire. The time didn't feel quite right to do something so…risky.

"Well that is goo-" Elora started, though her words were cut off by a very sudden apology. The woman slowly turning her gaze back to Chaol, only to find his back turned to her. His words full of sincerity that she had not been expecting. Tender, if not somewhat shaky as he expressed his remorse for the actions of previous night.

Hand tightened around the blanket that brought Elroa comfort. Holding it closer to her small frame, her eyes falling to the concrete of the balcony. Silently taking in the apology, allowing it to fall for a passing beat before speaking herself.

"I…did not deserve that treatment last night Chaol. You…scared me a lot. I understand you were mad, and you had every right to be. But I wasn't trying—" a break in her voice cut Elora off, a grunt of annoyance breaking through before she brought the blanket over her head to shield off the crying that was now bringing nothing but frustration.
"I'm sorry I don't mean to cry. I don't even know why I'm crying. I think—I just feel really bad for upsetting you to that point. If I had thought you'd be so angry I wouldn't have took Frankie home. I thought you'd still be at a bar, some were far away from a stupid convenient store. "
 
With the clarity returning to him, Chaol had quickly determined the cause of the explosiveness that left him storming from the house and taking those determined steps into the darkness, welcoming its embrace like an old friend. At the time, his anger felt justifiable; a reasonable reaction to a betrayed promise from someone he thought he could trust.

Yet, even if he still felt disappointed that the sincerity he had expressed and the rarity that such an emotion was had been discarded and unadhered to, nothing justified his response to it. He wasn't exactly known for his reasonable reactions when he came from a background of privilege and had spent subsequent years lavishing in the arrogance that his immortality garnered him - and that was without mentioning the ego that had built up as everyone that crossed his path either stared longingly at him or found themselves so entranced by his almost ethereal aura that they ran to his side, eager to do whatever they could just to earn themselves a smile from the man.

Ultimately, he was used to people doing what he asked them to do, so any deviation from that norm was guaranteed to irk him. What had tipped him over into the fury that had raged last night was the fact that it was Elora that had shown that disobedience; Elora who took note of the difficulty he had in opening himself up and rather respect that it had been a challenge for him to show such vulnerability, she had taken a measured risk and left the manor despite the best intentions he had had in advising her against such a move.

All he had sought to do was spare her from seeing him acting as the vampire he was; to protect the image of him she had had in her head.

But such a desire was unwise.

He never wanted her to see him enveloped by darkness because he himself never wanted to be that monster again... but he was fooling himself if he thought he could protect her from ever seeing him as a vampire when that was simply who and what he was. If he wanted her in his life, if they were to explore the ties of friendship together and share a life within the walls of the manor and the boundaries of the town, then it was unfair to hide part of himself from her and expect her to feel content only knowing slivers of him, rather than the whole.

No, he was a vampire and nothing would change that - and if he wanted Elora, if he truly wanted the second chance she offered him, then she would have to accept every aspect of him as Athanasia once had.

There had been a fear of letting her accept that when Athanasia's acceptance had led to her death... but that wasn't his choice to make. By laying demands at her door, he had deprived her of her own agency and taken that choice out of her hands.

And for that, he was the one in the wrong; not Elora.

Never Elora.

Her crying caught him off guard, rendering him motionless as he stood awkwardly in front of her, unsure what to say or do to best remedy the situation. He remembered how he would hold Athanasia close whenever she became emotional, a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and cocooning her in his hold as he offered soothing words of calming reassurance until her tears ceased and heartrate slowed-- but while the urge to do the same for Elora struck him so hard that it genuinely shocked him, it wasn't appropriate to thrust upon her such intimacy when they had only expressed the teasing quips that platonic friendships were dominated by.

For all he knew, she didn't... like him in quite the same way he had come to like her, and now was hardly the time to have that conversation.

Instead, he felt comfortable simply reaching for her hand, placing one of his own over it to encase it entirely. Detaching his gaze from the sunrise, his eyes settled firmly down upon hers, leaving no room for her to argue if she saw fit to dismiss his words and defend his right to have been upset - because in truth, he no longer felt like his emotions had any right to have been expressed in the manner they had done, or to have even existed in the first place.

"I was upset because I am an arrogant prick who thinks everyone should listen to me when I open my mouth-- and truthfully, that is the case, but not when it comes to you. You live in this manor; you call it your home. I have no right to demand you remain within it if you seek to step beyond the door. I am not your owner and you are not my pet. You are your own woman, your own person, and I was a fool, an arrogant fucking fool, to think I could demand you about. No, Elora, I... sought to spare you from seeing me feed but that is who I am, I am a vampire, and it is your choice if you wish to accept me as I am or shield yourself from it. It is your choice to make; not mine. I... was the one in the wrong. Not you."

His statement delivered, with the imploring plea for it to be taken and digested without argument or challenge, Chaol turned his head to take in the rising sun once more, his hand remaining over Elora's in satisfaction at how... natural it felt to feel her warmth against his icy coldness - because in many ways, she was the warmth to his cold life; the brightness to his bleakness.

It was just a shame he couldn't remain encased in that contentment, a sharp glance sent over to the human in confusion when she let slip something she perhaps hadn't intended to.

His jaw clenched as he tried to come to terms with the comment and its implications, his brow furrowing the more he dwelled on it when it only brought forth more confusion. More... unease.

"...Francine was here." Chaol eventually determined as a muscle jumped in his neck, his teeth gritting together as he tried valiantly to comprehend why the woman would have made a journey to his manor without him inviting her first, given he thought he had made it clear through enchanting words and his ever trusty charm that she was to remain away unless called for. Either his powers had yet to restore themselves... or she had been immune to the charm, expressing an agency and an independence that he hadn't anticipated, nor... wanted from someone he set aside as a meal to reliably feast upon whenever he felt himself growing peckish.

"And you're calling her Frankie? How... sweet. You seem to have formed a connection if you're using nicknames like this. So, pray tell, what were you discussing? You invited her in here, presumably, and struck up enough of a bond if you offered to take her home, Elora-- so tell me. Why was she here and what was discussed? I'm not angry, merely... perplexed-- though maybe I should ask Francine myself, hm? Cut out the middle man and go straight to the problem myself."
 
Elora had not wished to cry in front of the vampire. The woman cursing herself, mentally screaming at herself to calm down. Yet it appeared she was still overwhelmed with emotions from the night before, and honestly who wouldn't? From him appearing behind her in the car, to almost choking her—feeding off her fear in a way she had never experienced before. To those cursed, black pitiless eyes she knew she would not forget anytime soon.
In the waking hours, trying to process it all was still so overwhelming. More so when she felt as guilty as she did for driving him to that anger.

Truthfully, Elora hadn't thought of her leaving that night as a betrayal. She hasn't even considered too much on how Chaol would have felt once she told him or he came home to an empty house with only a note left in place. Perhaps talking to Frankie that night had clouded her judgment too much, giving her some kind of courage to defy the vampire—even if his demands were in her best interest.
Then again it could be Elora was simply looking for a scapegoat. To blame someone else for a decision that was all of her own choosing. Truly the result of last night was her own fault, no one else's.

Before her thoughts could spiral further out of control, Elora felt a warmth reach her hand. The woman pulling her comforter down enough that she could peek her gaze enough to reach Chaols. Eyes teary, blonde eyebrows furrowed as she looked up at the vampire. Chaols words reaching her more effectively, his voice pleading for her to understand that his emotions were his own fault. That she wasn't his property and was allowed to do as she wished, that she didn't have to listen to him and him alone.

While it was indeed rathe touching, Chaol would find a chocked laugh pushing past the blanket barrier she was using to hide her face. Pulling it down further so her words wouldn't be as muffled—though she doubted that Chaol would have too much of an issue hearing her.
"You are rather arrogant." Her agreement coming more as a pathetic attempt to tease the man. Chaol finding her heart rate beginning to slow once more, breathing less shallow as she began to calm down once more. "I do forgive you Chaol. But—please don't ever hide in the back of my car again. That was like every horrible slasher movie come to life. Next time I might accidentally pepper spray you."

It would have been foolish to believe the air was settling between the two once again. Foolish simply because Elora couldn't keep her mouth shut for five freaking seconds. The woman blurting out the fact that Francine had been at their home the night before. That the two women having conversed while she took her home, and despite Chaol saying he wasn't mad—the clenching of his jaw spoke otherwise. His tone vaguely threatening as he spoke about finding Francine and asking her why she was there last night.

"You…sound mad." Elora muttered, a small frown falling to her face once again.

"Don't be so upset. Apparently she was out hiking with her friends yesterday. She got separated from them, her phone died and she somehow stumbled upon our house. Which isn't that odd really. I've gotten lost a time or two here as well and some how managed to find my way back here. It was really cold so I invited her inside so she could warm up a little.

She mostly talked about the house, and you—and then I drove her home. She isn't so horrible when she isn't constantly giggling."

Of course while the majority of what Elora told Chaol was the truth—the young woman couldn't help but flourish the story with some white lies. The last thing she wanted to see was Chaol get mad again, more so at Frankie who she did not believe would receive the the same kindness that Chaol always bestowed to her.
Besides…Elora knew there was something off with Francine, and before she could really tell Chaol, she would need to gather more information about the other woman.
 
"What a strange turn of events. Almost seems far too unbelievable to be true, doesn't it? Almost too bizarre; too unlucky. She got separated, her phone died..." Chaol trailed off with his eyes fixated sternly down on Elora as though daring her to contradict him once more; produce another challenge to his words and provide an alternative view to them.

Because ultimately, he wasn't sold on the lies he was being fed. He didn't know they were lies, remaining oblivious to Frankie's reasoning for venturing to the manor in the first place, but something felt... awkward about the manner in which Elora described the witch's movements, and the events that led up to her arriving for assistance at the home. He had no evidence to suggest that Elora was lying to him beyond that instinctive gut feeling, but he preferred to trust in it; to place faith in his responses rather than willfully blind himself to them.

Because they existed for a reason and he would be a fool to ignore them, wouldn't he?

But he could see the unease that had begun to seep back into Elora as she peered up at him and deemed his demeanour and his words to be threatening... which ultimately they were. He could maintain that he wasn't angry but there was an undeniable flicker of that rage re-arriving within him as he considered how it was Frankie that had appeared on the scene and encouraged Elora to leave the safety of the manor, the comfort of the cosy living room, to head beyond and out into the night... where the catastrophic series of events would play out when Chaol spotted her concluding the time outside with a quick visit to the grocery store.

It wasn't right to blame Frankie for how everything had played out when he was self-aware enough to know that he was the one solely to blame for the behaviour he had displayed... but it was rather easy to feel a rising annoyance towards her for arriving to the manor and putting the events into action in the first place. He was guilty of responding as fiercely as he had... but if he could shift a little blame and target someone who meant nothing to him, someone he felt no guilt of lambasting with the full force of his venom, then he would seek to do that without hesitation.

But that would wait for when he actually set eyes upon her again.

For now, his only responsibility was assuring Elora that he wasn't mad; that he was calm, composed and in control and ready to tackle the day and all it would encompass as the person she had come to know and like.

If that meant pretending that he believed her story, rather than wanting to grow angry once more at the idea that she was lying to his face, then so be it. It was a worthy sacrifice - and when the truth did come out, he could always play for sympathy and have Elora seek to make it up to him with attention and devotion.

It wasn't so bad, in the grand scheme of things... however unsettled he was that she would lie for an inconsequential figure like Francine.

But he would know the truth... eventually.

"Yes, well, she is bothersome. I regret crossing paths with her if she's also know annoying you with those incessant giggles of hers-- but if I have to endure it, I think it's only fair that you do too. I refuse to be the only one having to put up with her nonsense. Perhaps it's a good thing she stumbled up here - you can endure her as I do," the vampire abruptly grinned, the expression lighting his features and ridding them of the momentary darkness that had shadowed them in his quick anger. It remained present but he expertly managed to disguise it beneath a genuine smile and the return of the teasing energy that usually dominated his and Elora's interactions, the vampire quick to cling to it.

He only now realised how deeply he craved that playfulness when it had been robbed of them for a little while.

"I need clothes - and unless you want me to throw on clothes from my time period and appear like some old Victorian gentleman, I'd appreciate something more modern. I won't complain about the style or criticise the informality. It's either that, Elora, or I wander about shirtless the entire day-- and really, I fear that will only cause you to be terribly distracted. Your wandering eyes are not all that subtle, I'm afraid," hummed Chaol smugly, the typical arrogance arriving in full force as his smirk widened, hazel eyes shining beautifully in the soft glow of the morning. He pushed his shoulders back a little, a purposeful effort to subtly draw more attention to the broadness of his frame because what was more amusing right now than seeing Elora so flustered by his appearance?

It wasn't appropriate, not when his mind was still connected to the societal ways of a past time... but he was gradually breaking them down, particularly when he was in the presence of someone who he felt his heart pull towards; someone who, like Athanasia had, felt... like they were supposed to be here with him, at his side.

Someone who he should feel no shame in being himself around.

"...Have you had breakfast? Perhaps we ought to get some food in you, you had a stressful night and the last thing I need is for you to faint on me, Elora. I'm rather awful at tending to sick people. Athanasia once found herself bed-bound with the flu and I admit, I was atrocious at being her nurse for the few days she was incapacitated. I don't deal with with it-- so you need food and fluids. Keep your strength it so I'm spared having to put work in caring for you."
 
Perhaps Elora's story would have been more believable if it wasn't for the tight smile that accompanied her when Chaol began questioning the nature of her lie. Even the vampire finding it horribly convenient that Frankie got separated from her friends and found her way to the manor. Convenient that her phone just happened to die and she needed help from Elora.
The stern gaze of the vampire deflected as the woman looked away, looking off to the trees that the sun was slowly peaking out from.
In hindsight, it was a very childish lie. Hell, a child could have probably came up with something more convincing.

"The woods are awfully big. Who knows what could be hiding in them. Maybe a witch placed a spell on the area that brought her to our house—after all, it was a rather weird night." Elora hummed. The young woman fully expected the man to see through her lie now, perhaps get angry that she thought him so stupid to believe such a tale. Expected him to get angry at her, to become as mad as he once had. That fear being the reason why she was quick to avert his gaze, not wishing to see those beautiful ambers of his disappear back into darkness.
However, it appeared the vampire was full of surprises that morning.

The end result was him letting go of the conversation. Teasing her, making her suffer with Frankie's giggle just as he had to. Whipping her head back to stare up at the man, judging his reaction for only a second—the darkness that seemingly evaporated before her eyes. Leaving a teasing smile, one she had grown familiar with. One she adored to see on the other's face.
Just like that her own smile fell to rosy cheeks that were slowly fading back to a normal complexion, though it appeared the swelling over her eyes would take a bit longer to heal.
Chaol was registered with a smile of his own. Mischievous just holding itself just under the words, buying into the vampire's more playful nature.

"Um, yeah, no.
You brought this upon yourself Chaol. It was your choice to go over and talk to her after all. Even when I told you that you had a perfectly good, willing supply right here. Guess my blood just isn't good enough for your regal sense taste. So you should have to suffer with those giggles alone."
Despite the hesitation she had felt that morning to approach the man, the hesitation to look him in the eye and judge his mood…Elora was glad she had. She wasn't sure what she would do if she could no longer tease the vampire. Sass him with each minor complaint he could come up with. The air seemed to come back to normalcy between the two.

More so as the man decided to puff out his bare chest. Making a show of just how indecent he was. Of course, now that the nervous air had worn off, Elora was able to take in the extent of her current surroundings. Her eyes lingering on his chest, stealing a glance at his arms, eyes trailing to the towel that wrapped firmly around his waist. Within an instant, the woman's face turned a bright shade of red. Pulling her hand from his as she backed away slightly—nervous laughter ringing through the air.

"You know you're not the first or probably the last guy I've seen in a similar state." Elora stubbornly huffed, though her eyes kept glancing anywhere that wasn't directly in Chole's direction. Refusing to give him any more satisfaction than he already had, or would have seen how flustered the young woman became at the awareness of the other's nudity. "I don't know, wearing your previous outfits would make you quite the skeptical. I'm sure you'd love having that attention. But I will go find something else for you to wear."

As prepared as she was to get out of the vampire's indecent vicinity—he would find the young woman pausing. Turning her eyes back to him as he questioned if she had ate anything that morning. A tender worry help captive in his voice—even as he spoke about what an awful caregiver he was. Warning her that he would not be qualified in giving her the best care should she pass out.

Though…something told Elora that wasn't entirely true. She was sure Chaol would go to great lengths to make sure Elora would get better as soon as possible if she were to fall sick. Was sure he had done the same for Athanasia when she fell ill. Even if it wasn't the best care, she was sure the other woman was happy he just stayed around and did what he could.
Admiration soon took over the woman's features. Her face softening to an almost loving look that he cared enough for her, worried enough for her to be concerned about her health. Hiding it behind his desire to not be bothered by such trivial matters. That her falling sick would be nothing but a burden to him.

"I haven't had anything yet. I will after I find you something to wear." Turning around the woman dashed out of the room—taking off to her own in search of something Chaol could wear. Eventually, she settled on a button-up shit that had been stuffed too far in the back of her closet and a pair of men's jeans that had been mixed in with her regular ones.

Just how many articles of clothing has she kept from her exes? Was this some weird trophy of hers she was now becoming aware of? She should be concerned.

With a shrug Elora abandoned those thoughts, deciding it was something she would have to deal with later on.
Carelessly dropping her blanket on the floor she went back to Chaol's room, presenting him with the clothing—hoping the shirt wouldn't be too tight on the man.
 
As Elora ventured from the room to obligingly fetch him something else to wear, Chaol allowed his smile to naturally fade as he turned back to face the scene beyond the balcony. It was easy to lose himself to the sunrise and the accompanying birdsong and, again, the vampire didn't deprive himself of the experience as he drank in how the sun kissed his skin, embracing its warmth when he had been torn of the simple pleasure for near a century in total.

As he waited for the human to make her reappearance, he was left to properly consider just how... enjoyable their interactions were together. It didn't mean that the entire contemplation regarding that thought was positive because alongside it arrived the creeping dread of how long they would be stuck simply teasing one another without taking things to a new level; moving things forward and making some progress. He knew it was perhaps selfish of him to desire one of them to have the confidence to confess to their growing feelings and make a move romantically when they hadn't known one another all that long-- but they didn't need to for Chaol to understand how he felt.

It might not have been quite as instantaneous as it had been with Athanasia, but there was no denying that the strength of his pull for Elora, the tug of his heart to her own, was just as strong as it had been with his lost fiancee. In fact, arguably, the strength of it was deeper, given what they had had to overcome together.

Elora had seen him at his worst, been on the opposite end of the most venomous and fearsome of threats, and still she yearned to protect him from himself; still she remained at his side, dedicated to the cause of helping him through his lowest moment. Why else would she do that if she didn't care for him in a way that spoke to a desire in her heart; an... indescribable need to be in his presence, shielding him from harm, be it at his own hand or those that might ever seek to inflict it.

And he knew that was the case because he felt the same, wanting only to embrace her and ensure she was cocooned in those arms, protected from whatever the world might seek to throw at her.

He knew he liked her, that he couldn't proceed to ignore the feelings any longer.

Which was why he feared that, both feeling the same way, they would continue to waste time tiptoeing around the obvious, both reluctant to pull the trigger and set into motion a turn of events that would change everything.

Because if they did and it didn't end well, they would lose... this: the jokes, the teasing, the comfortable playfulness.

And he didn't want that; couldn't let that happen.

Which left him stuck, teetering on the edge of taking the risk whilst also longing to remain held back, protecting what he and Elora presently had because at least that was solid and safe; reliable.

He might long to pull her in, press his lips to her neck and a hand to the lower of her back, expressing into action all the lust-filled thoughts that had come to dominate his head whenever he was in her presence, but how could he risk it, really? How could he put their friendship at risk when... it meant so much to the both of them? When it was all that Chaol had left in this world?

He couldn't lose it.

He feared what he might end up doing, what he might end up becoming, if he risked the friendship for a romance potentially fell apart at the seams shortly after.

At her eventual reappearance, Chaol forced himself to not dwell on the thoughts - he didn't need her believing that the silence they caused him was an indication that he was gradually withdrawing from her once again, at risk of unleashing the monster that had tormented her the previous night. No, even if he deeply wanted to figure out what he was going to do about his feelings, he couldn't do so when she was around, or risk her misconstruing his contemplation as... something dark; something terrible.

"...I said I wouldn't say anything bad about the clothing but just know I am holding back some rather strong words right now," the vampire muttered as he eyed the garments in clear distaste, though, at a lack of anything else to wear, he sighed dramatically and tugged on the shirt, rolling the sleeves up to the elbow to at least give it a little style more in tune to his own.

"And regarding your comment about seeing men in this situation, and possibly seeing more in the near future-- well, that's entirely fine, Elora. You've lived a life before me and you'll continue to live a life with me present, but let's not pretend that any man you set eyes upon, or have set eyes upon, measures up to me in any way. You're loath to lend me a compliment, to stroke my ego... but let us dispense of the delusions. I am rather... incomparable. A league of my own. No man you've met or will go on to meet will ever challenge me, in beauty, physique, charm or personality. It's arrogant, granted... but my arrogance can be justified. My looks, my physique... those are proof that the arrogance is warranted, are they not?"

Smirking to himself in amusement -and undeniably tempted to proceed with the flirtatiousness-, Chaol brought himself in close to Elora. Perhaps it was unwise given the threats he had placed onto her a day prior, but the mood was considerably charged, the attraction cracking and sparking in the air - and he had to trust that she was receptive to it, rather than averse to being close to him in any regard.

His lips pressed against the shell of her ear, the Lord taking a moment to drink in the response his proximity brought, before he dared to utter: "And let us not pretend that you aren't imagining what's beneath this towel, Elora. You and I are both aware that your thoughts are probably not as pure or as chaste as you want me to believe they are."

Pulling away, the deviousness on his features vanished in an instant, replaced with a calm composure of feigned innocence... as though he hadn't just uttered the most flirtatious of words softly into her ear, deliberately placing images of him in her mind.

"Now, I need to finish getting changed but I can meet you in the dining room for breakfast - I'll read my daily paper and you will get food in you because really, I need to see you enjoy a full meal before I stop pestering you about it," he hummed with continued innocence, gripping the jeans in his hand. "...I will drop the towel and get dressed here and now with you present if you don't scurry out, Elora, so, to shield yourself of that sight, you should really get a move on. I'll be with you presently, I promise."
 
"Well if you don't like it, I can take them back." Elora huffed, watching as the vampire pulled the button up on—rolling the sleeves to show off his perfect arms. Elora slowly beginning to think he was doing it on purpose now. "If you do not wish to go out today, then I will be happy to do some shopping for you—get you stocked up on all kinds of clothing. Though…to be fair you are helping me clean out my own closet. I didn't even know that set was in there." Her teasing words filling the air—one that was quick to change into a more flirtatious one.

Chaol making sure Elora knew that she wouldn't find anyone quite like him. Not in personality or physique—the man making statements that she could not argue with.

In more than one way Chaol was right. She would never find someone close to Chaols statues. Of all the men Elora had dated in her life—none was as quick to capture her heart as Chaol had. At first, the woman thought it was simple lust over love for the man, that she was just mystified by his aesthetic as anyone else was. That she was just desperate for companionship, which is why she put up with his attitude for as long as she had.
However, she would only be lying to herself.

Despite not wanting to get into another relationship, convinced it would be for the best that she went to live a lonely life—Elora couldn't deny how hard she had fallen for the man before her. Despite the scare from last night, she still held a longing for the man that was unexplainable. As though he had been the one she had been waiting for, for her entire life. It felt, too soon to say such things—yet she couldn't deny that those thoughts were there. Even Frankie had called her out about it the night before.

As odd as it was. As quick as it was—Elora was truly and utterly enamored with the man before her.
Though was it right to act on those feelings when it seemed he still grieved of his lost love? Should she be giving him more time to heal and not act so hastily on her feelings, it would be selfish to do so wouldn't it? What if he grew to be upset that she had feelings for him, believing she was no different than anyone else who came within his alluring aura?

Before her thoughts could become more wild, more entangled in doubt, Chaol suddenly took a step forward. Then another, an another until he was standing right in front of Elora. The smirk on his face no better than a wolf who was ready to catch its pray, ready to give the finishing blow that would leave her utterly helpless.
Chaol would hear her heart beat begin to race as his lips came close to her ear. Linger for a few seconds before his low voice broke through the silence. Low, teasing—nothing like the night before. Instead of fear the vampire seemed to be wishing to spark some kind of sexual tension between the two of them.

Or perhaps Elora was over thinking it. Surly that wasn't the case…right?!

Whatever the vampires plan was, it seemed to work. A small shutter of breath leaving the woman's lips as his words tickled her ear. Sending goosebumps down her body. The evil vampire placing images of what was just under the towel, images of him over her—claiming her as his own in anyway he deemed fit.

Elora deciding right then and there she would be okay if he suddenly scooped her up and took her to his bed. Almost yearning for him to do so—though the spell was quick to break as soon as Choal pulled away. The man having the gall to stand there and act as though he did not place such devious thoughts into her mind. That he did not render her helpless—unable to speak, stunned by his word. A deep blush taking over her entire face from his teasing.

Even as he pulled away her heart was still racing. Eyes no longer twinkling with the playful energy that usually matched his. Replaced with a deeper, lustful gaze that had yet to be seen until now.

"Chaol you can't just do that." Elora groaned once she regained her composure. Her hands flying to shield her face—a face that was left burning hot from his teasing words. The vampire successfully gaining the reaction he had hoped for. At the threat of him dropping his towel,Elora slowly pulled her hands down to peer at him. Squinting in skepticism, "You wouldn't dare."

Despite the intensity of her blush just then, the surreal way that he had spoken to her just moments ago—Elora did believe the man was as more bark and no bite…however was she willing to risk it just then, could her poor heart handle him dropping his towel in front of her at that very moment?
 
"Oh, I think you'll find I can do that, Elora - and why wouldn't I when such actions, such words, provoke this response in you? All you simply have to do is control yourself, fend off the blush that cascades down your cheeks, and I'd have no reason to pester you, would I? No, no: deprive me of these delicious responses and I'd lose motivation to tease you with such fervour," drawled the vampire in response, unable to cling to the normalcy that had momentarily overtaken him with his desire to focus on the menial matter of breakfast when Elora was... proving herself a difficult presence to tear himself from.

Her flustered state was proving even more difficult to resist. He feigned casualness as he turned briefly to examine the appearance of the shirt on his form in the mirror but inwardly, he was hot beneath the collar. He wasn't as flustered as Elora was, his feathers decidedly less ruffled, but that didn't mean she wasn't equally having as much of an effect on him as he was seemingly having on her.

No, he was decidedly... drawn to the flirtation, finding himself eager not only to intensify the nature of his responses but introduce a physicality. He longed to close the distance once more, rest a hand to her waist and, applying a little pressure, bringing her body up to his, allowing his eyes to unashamedly drink in her form without feeling he had to look away to protect her modesty.

He still felt the instinct to do that; to adhere to his belief that she ought to be treated like a lady and be spared the wandering gazes from anyone that wasn't her fiancé or husband - and he was evidently neither. He might harbour a desire for her that stirred fiercely within him but that wasn't enough to justify his yearning glances or the passion that flamed within his eyes. He had to keep calm, control himself, spare Elora the indignity of having her modesty, her purity, stained by the flirtatiousness of their interactions.

Until they had confessed how they felt aloud and opened up a chapter of mutual understanding, it was fairest to reserve himself from throwing his energy into exchanges like this.

Because he wasn't sure he could control himself and resist her temptation a second longer if she continued to look at him with that damn smile of hers.

All he wanted to do the longer she looked at him with the most brilliant of blue eyes was toss all patience aside and throw her onto the bed behind her, clamber on top and devote himself to kissing every inch of her body--

"What do you mean I 'wouldn't dare'? It isn't gentlemanly of me, of course it isn't, but the look on your face... oh, it'd be worth it. What's life without a little risk?" Taunted Chaol in reply as he tucked his thumbs beneath the band of the towel, a side-smirk pulling on his face as an eyebrow raised in accompaniment, rising happily to the challenge presented to him.

Admittedly, he hadn't anticipated her calling him out on his threat - because she was, as ever, reading him with annoying accuracy. He had initially had no intention of living up to the playful threat of tossing the towel aside and getting dressed in front of her because that was certainly something that ought to be reserved for the eyes of a marital partner - Chaol, evidently, still clung to some beliefs that had dominated the society of his time, and the idea of being unclothed from the waist down in front of someone he wasn't engaged to, someone he wasn't married to, was horrifying to him.

But the sight of her smugly declaring herself the victor in their challenge against one another, folding her arms and taunting him with her triumph...

Oh, he couldn't have that.

He wouldn't live under the same roof of someone who had called him out and won.

Seconds might have dragged on, his hesitation unsubtle and obvious, but it eventually concluded with Chaol offering another dashing grin and dismissing the towel entirely, kicking it aside when it landed to his feet in one swift move.

"I did warn you, you cannot possibly be outraged at me when you had ample opportunity to turn and walk away. Part of me thinks you wanted me to undress like this-- scandalous, I know, given we are not engaged or to be wed, but I think both our thoughts towards one another can be regarded as such," the Lord devilishly grinned as he deliberately took his time in unfurling the jeans, holding them out for examination just to cause a few more seconds to drag on by.

Only when he was satisfied that he had let the moment pass on for as long as it could did he collect underwear and tug the jeans on, grimacing a little at the strangeness of the denim against his skin.

"Now, breakfast-- and the remainder of the day shall be spent as I hoped to have spent it last night before things went awry. We will sit and watch that television. You did mention a thing called Twilight; that I might enjoy watching it? After you have finished shopping, perhaps we can enjoy it together."
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back