The Sangruis Society

"I don't want you looking any different to how you are now; I think you're perfect. The whole muscular, built thing isn't my cup of tea, you know, so I really don't need you getting self-conscious and stressed about it, nor do I want you comparing yourself to your brother or Padraig. They can show off their muscles all they want; it's really not that attractive to me. Whereas you're perfect in my eyes," he promised, smiling over at him as he rooted in the drawer for a bandage. He had no need for them, nor did any of the other vampires, but he always kept some away just in case they had a new recruit who wanted to keep his humanity for a while before allowing himself through the change - as Obediah had done for four years.

"...Nor do I think the tough aesthetic is attractive. I've had past lovers who were genuinely quite rough; the sort to start a fight at a pub and cause a ruckus. I realised that I find it all uncouth. I'd rather a gentleman," he purred with a playful wink, unwinding the bandage before first deciding that he at least ought to wipe away the excess blood around the wound, doing so quietly to avoid giving into the burning at the back of his throat.

"What are you going to tell your wife? That your male lover is a vampire who bit and fed from you~?"
 
"I probably could just say that. It isn't like she would believe me, right? I mean, I certainly wouldn't - well, I do now but you understand what I'm trying to say, yes? It just seems so ridiculous to me, standing back from it. She would probably just say that I'm mad, have me see a doctor and give up when nothing comes of it. I can't think of any other way to explain it, but it might be because I'm tired," he admitted with a laugh before taking in the bandage before folding the sleeve back down.

Leaning in for a gentle kiss, he rested his hands on August's hips to at least keep them close, if only to keep one another touching. Even if they didn't have sex, he at least wanted to be close to the vampire as the praises ran through his mind. No one had ever said such kind things to him and, as the blood began to rush back, his blush returned.

"This was a lovely night, really. I hope this was a nice treat for you, August. It's the least I could do for you, for how you've treated me. I... care about you, deeply."
 
"I wasn't in any doubt that you cared for me, you've made it abundantly clear - which I adore, of course. I like being gushed over and told how wonderful I am. I'm an egotist, what can I say?" He laughed, deflecting momentarily from the seriousness of the statement, fearing that if he didn't, he would only end up blurting how in love he was... and he wasn't prepared to be rejected. Forrest had stated plenty of times how much he cared for him, and was probably right not to drop the 'L' word when they'd only struck up a romantic interest in one another.

But he wasn't going to ignore the fact that, deep down, he knew he loved the man. It was ridiculously quick and he new that put him at risk of getting hurt, but he had loved before so knew that the feelings he had back then were comparable to now. That was why he knew for certain that he loved him, even if he felt almost guilty for them springing up so soon.

Wisely, he chose not to blurt those feelings out too soon, instead reiterating that he cared for the human as much as he cared for him, returning the kiss just once or twice more before reluctantly forcing himself away from him.

"...I can come and collect you at your hotel. I'll have a carriage waiting outside at around, say... 8 o'clock? And you won't have to lie to your wife this time when you tell her you're going to inspect a potential home for the two of you. I'm sure that'll ease your conscience a tad."
 
"It will, yes," he admitted with a deep sigh. "I'm sure it will help Isabelle understand as well, as to why I'm out and about so often. I don't mean to be rude but she isn't the brightest lady, though she has plenty of other redeeming qualities. She just isn't the type to strike up a conversation about the agriculture of the Estate and order supplies. I will admit that I am certainly not brilliant, it does help my ego a tad to be beside her - is that rude?" He questioned quickly. M

It was one concern he had over everything; whether he was a bad person or not. On one hand, he considered himself to be a good husband and it was simply time to move on. On the other, he felt selfish for making his wife deal with his affair. Reluctantly, he pulled away from the other when he realized just how tired he had become.

"Would you mind walking me home? I know you're such s gentleman, there's nothing more gentlemanly than leading someone home. My largest fear has always been the rumors of people being swept off the street never to be seen again, and that is only intensified by the fact that we're in a city. I think I deserve it," he murmured before snorting,
 
"I suppose it can't help for you to realise that danger lurks around every corner in this city, whether that's from drunken fools or vampires who aren't in the Society. So of course I'll walk you back to the hotel. I can't have you getting hurt before we've even really started our romance, can I? Especially not before our romantic trip to Paris," he emphasised, only too happy to head out with him if it meant spending several more minutes at his side. He wasn't fond of the cold Winter air when he was already constantly cold, but he was glad to risk it for some more time with Forrest. If that wasn't evidence of his love, nothing else would show it.

"And no, it's not rude. She's not the brightest, is she? But not everyone is as smart as you. Pat has his moments where he's a little confused and, despite how dearly I care for your brother as if he's my own sibling, he's really not going to win awards for his intellect. I don't think it's rude to state the truth about your wife in that case - being a little less than intelligent doesn't make her a bad person. What does make her a bad person is her judgemental attitude and forcefulness-- but it's not my place. I'm simply going off what I've heard from Obediah," he shrugged, adjusting his coat and slipping on his leather gloves, bracing himself as the cold wind hit him the moment he opened the door.

"...You can be at her side for years if that's what you need, Forrest. I understand the importance of a man like you being married - I've received constant remarks about the lack of a wife in my life, so trust me, I understand that Isabelle provides you safety and security. As long as you continue to see me, I have no business interfering in your marriage and forcing you to leave her, hm? So please don't stress yourself out about it. Just continue to see me and I'm happy."
 
"Stress is a part of my life, I don't think I could live without it. If I don't have something to stress over, I don't know what else I would do with my time," he teased as he tugged on his fur coat, wrapping his scarf snuggly around his neck as he stepped into the light snow. There was nothing prettier than his Estate in winter and to see the slush already form on the London streets was a bit depressing.. he decided not to mention it as he tugged his hat on tight, blocking the cold as best he could. Once starting down the sidewalk, he let his own gloves hand briefly brush August's - not quite holding hands but just having their fingers hook briefly have him some confidence as he nervously took in the vacant streets.

"I'm glad you're doing this. I know I may sound ridiculous but I'm truly terrified. To hear that there were savage vampires on the street of London only made his face grow pale. To have August beside him at least meant that he had someone to help him with if needed. He wasn't much of a fighter and often just accepted the beatings he experienced from his father. The same would be the case if someone were to jump him.
 
"Oh, that's not ridiculous. Some of those wayward vampires who aren't in the Society are awfully violent. Savages, really. But I can protect you and me easily, trust me. They may be violent and rather brutish, but I haven't existed for a century without learning how to defend myself. I dislike fighting, but Padraig has taught me a few things. I'm sure I'll manage protecting you if it ever came to that - but it won't, I assure you. Even those vampires are wise enough not to go after someone whose death would attract attention. They mostly go for the less noticeable in our society," he remarked casually, taking advantage of the lack of people on the street by pressing closer as they walked. It wasn't too unsubtle, knowing he couldn't risk being overtly affectionate in his approaches when anyone could stumble out of a pub and discover their closeness. Because of that very understandable fear, the vampire restricted himself as best he could, settling for walking close and letting their fingers occasionally meet.

"...I assume you're moving back to the estate soon?" He inquired as casually as he could, glancing briefly to his side with a smile. "I know the house here isn't going to be your permanent residence. I'm sure your wife wants to return to the countryside eventually, and you have staff there that need a master of the house to serve, hm? I know you said that you'd find a job, but... you have one, don't you? Being head of the Crownfield estate is a rather important job, unfortunately for me, given how much I'd love you to stay here permanently."
 
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"Oh, well... I'm not sure. That's something I'm content on thinking about in the future," he replied with a nervous laugh, his hand holding tightly onto August's in fear. He didn't want to seem cowardly but just being around so-called 'sophisticated" vampires was scary enough. To hear that there were 'savage, wayward and unstable ' ones just wandering through the street immediately had his heart thumping.

"I would like to keep a home in both locations, ideally. I'm not selling my family's Estate, I can assure you that, but... I do like London, from what I've seen. I haven't ventured off from the hotel much, perhaps I will in the morning, see some of the local restaurants and whatnot. I... I don't know, I'll focus on that in the morning," he declared with a nod and a hard squeeze of August's hand.
 
"...I'd love to come and show you around London, I know the city like the back of my hand. I just have a feeling that tomorrow will be bright and sunny, and that's not the sort of weather I'm able to walk around in. I could use a parasol, but I'd rather not risk it in case a breeze turns it inside-out and leaves me burning to death in front of humans, which would be a disaster, naturally," he laughed, returning the affectionate squeeze and going as far as to offer a very subtle kiss to his knuckles, in replace of a kiss to his lips.

"Here, just go inside and warm yourself up, you're freezing," he tutted, nodding to the hotel just up ahead of them. "I'll see you tomorrow at 8. Do try and make sure your wife doesn't want to come along with us, won't you? I'm not sure I could cope with that."
 
"Ill try my best," he replied quietly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks at the simple notion of a kiss on his hand. Giving it another squeeze, he took in the scene around him and once he decided it was safe, he pecked the vampire's cheek and headed into the hotel as quickly as possibly to avoid the cold and the general possibility of being attacked.

Once slipping into the hotel room, the Duke exhaled a loud sigh of relief followed by an even louder yawn. Once unfurling his coat from himself and neatly hanging it up on the post, he knocked lightly on the wall.

"Isabelle? Are you here, love?" He called before moving to the bedroom, a small smile on his lips. "I hope you don't mind that I've been out so long."
 
"I don't mind at all, why would I? I know what you're up to, Forrest. You take me for a naive fool, don't you? All this sudden secrecy, the desperation you had earlier to get me out shopping... I know what you're doing," the woman replied as she locked eyes with her husband in the bedroom, having been busy holding up dresses to herself to examine how they suited her before his arrival distracted her, setting the expensive garments down with an overly dramatic sigh.

Her attempt at seriousness failed in seconds, her smile widening as she reached to take his hands in her own. "Oh, you're planning something, aren't you? I know you are. Is it a new ring? Something hand-crafted and personal and extravagant-- shh, don't tell me what it is, I adore surprises! I certainly know you're planning something for me, which explains the long-hours and your desperation to keep me out of it. You're so romantic when you want to be, you know~"
 
"Now if I were to say whether I was getting you something or not, wouldn't that ruin the surprise?" He easily replied, his hands resting on her hips from behind as he watched her in the mirror. Offering her a gentle kiss to the cheek, his attention then turned to the dresses curiously. It was no surprise that she had gone on a bit of a spree, as she almost always did, and his eyes immediately landed on the particularly colored green dress.

"Looks like you had fun, then?" He questioned, holding the dress up once letting his arms unravel from her hips. "I'm glad. As for my disappearance, things are coming together slowly. I have quite a few plans in the work, ones you ought not get yourself involved in. Let's just say that I'm growing to appreciate London a bit more every day. How about we go and get some lovely brunch in the morning, you can show me where you went."
 
"I didn't spend the budget all on myself, Forrest. I bought you some cufflinks and a rather snazzy bow-tie, seeing as that's your go-to fashion statement as this moment in time," she drawled as she reached to adjust his current bow-tie for him with a tender, loving smile. For all her flaws (and there were plenty to choose from), she did love her husband completely. The marriage had been arranged and she hadn't had a say in the matter, but she had at least received plenty of other offers of marriage - the fact she was happy to go ahead with Forrest and not even attempt to object said a lot for how instantaneous her love for him had been; a love that had only grown by the day. He annoyed her often, especially given the fact she had yet to have a child after years of marriage, but she loved him regardless.

"Brunch sounds lovely, actually. I passed by this extraordinary cafe. I imagine it's expensive, but all the fine people in the society dine there, I heard. We're those sort of people, Forrest. We need to spread your name around a little-- people know you here and they appreciate your surname and the family history. More than those idiotic bumpkins in the country who can't tell their left-hand from their right one," she criticised with surprising animosity, frowning to herself at the naivety she saw in most in the country village. At least in London, the Crownfield name brought with it raised eyebrows and fascinated smiles from those she told about it.

"The woman in the store practically bowed to me when I told her I was your wife. We need to really get you out in the city, Forrest; you deserve to be at every event and function, dining with politicians and aristocracy. Not cooped up in some hotel room like a commoner. I refuse to let you dwindle here like you did at the country estate."
 
"Ah, yes, well... you know me, Isabelle, I'm not one to really adjust to new environments as well as I should, but I am trying!" He insisted with a nervous smile, his cheeks pink as he motioned her to show him the new goodies. He wasn't the most pompous and materialistic person, sure, but that didn't mean he didn't have some taste in nice things, especially if they were sparkly.

"You're right, though. I should certainly focus on my image here. I'm not much of a businessman but I do want to at least expand my skills on interacting with other elite individuals. It's the least I could do to honor my father, yes?" He confirmed before sitting on the bed. "So let me see these gifts, I want to see if you've lost your touch, hm?"
 
"Oh, do stop being foolish; as if I've lost my touch. I practically buy all your clothes, don't I? And you always look dashing," she reminded as she rooted back in her bags, pulling out the bow-tie and the cufflinks with a proud smile - she had no doubt that he would like them, after all, and even if he didn't, she was determined to see him in them at some point. She knew what looked good on him, whether or not he liked the style.

"And this jacket was too eye-catching for me to ignore. A tad expensive, but you can't put a price on looking good, Forrest. It's certainly fitting for a gentleman," she murmured as she held out the black suit jacket with another smile. "Try it on now. You'll look handsome in it; it's perfect for dinner parties, and I do hope we'll be invited to some soon. I've bought so many dresses, it'd be a shame not to have an excuse to wear them. Perhaps we could attend the opera? That'll give us an excuse to dress up, and show ourselves around the social scene here. We could go tomorrow night?"
 
"Well, you know how there's this 'definitely not a surprise' thing I have to do tonight, perhaps we could catch an early showing? I do definitely want to experience what this city has to offer in the form of arts. Why wouldn't I? London is the epicenter of all big names, after all," he praised as he slipped on the jacket, peering at himself in curiosity. While he had mixed feelings about it, he trusted his wife to at least know what was right. Thanking her with a kiss on her cheek, he neatly set it on the coat rack with a smile.

"It's beautiful, my love. If you insist on going to the opera, I would love to - you need somewhere to show off your new gifts. You'll be the talk of the town with how beautiful you look, though you don't need much effort to impress all of these city folk," he purred teasingly before heading to the other room, beginning to dress in his nightgown.
 
"Well, I don't want to just be a pretty thing on your arm, Forrest. I... have aspirations of my own. I know that perhaps it's not my place and that... maybe I'm overstepping my place as your wife as that's undoubtedly my most important role and I take it very seriously, but... well, London is... I have ideas that I'd like to pursue. My own career, in fact," she proposed quietly from the room she was in, bringing all the courage she could for herself before daring to trail after her husband to continue the conversation. She was well aware that she was expected to be a wife and she did fear that her desire to be more than that, to have her own independence, would be seen as disrespectful by Forrest, as though her aspirations contradicted his own and drew attention away from him. He had never said as such, but she had also never shown ideas for a career until now, so she was understandably wary.

"It's not an unheard of thing anymore, Forrest. Times are changing. How many books are penned by women that have become classics? It's what I want to do. I adore literature, I've always admired the art of placing all one's imaginative ideas into a book. It's... wonderful. And I'm certainly not naive; I know that I'm not marvellous academic, but... I can learn. I can teach myself and... research ideas and find my way and-- I can still be a wife to you and perform my role at home. I can do both, can't I?"
 
"... you know what? You're right," he replied after a long pause. "I've been out often without you by my side, I... what husband would I be if I couldn't make you happy? If you want to be an author, I support you. London is a place of new beginnings, yes?" He continued, only pausing when realizing the bites. Hesitating, he bashfully smiled and tried to move quickly to cover his bandages wrist.

"Do we have enough parchment? I'm sure we can purchase ink and a pen for you, I'm sure there's a cute little shop around to help you, hm?" He continued, shimmying into the nightgown. "What would you want to write about, if you don't mind me asking?"
 
"You aren't mad? Oh, Forrest, that's wonderful! I'm so lucky to have you, aren't I? Most women would love to be married to you, and yet I'm the lucky one that was chosen to wed you - honestly, I don't think I can love you more than I do," she gushed, flinging herself into her husband's arms and showering him with a flurry of kisses. She wasn't the most passionate of women, often appearing reserved and stiff when it came to expressions of her love, but that was only because she thought that was how she ought to act as a lady. However, the situation and the joy she derived from it clouded her from consciously changing her behaviour - she was acting purely in the moment, her smile wider than it had been in months.

"Oh, I don't know! I adore romance and love and-- well, everyone adores love books and poetry, don't they? I'm sure I can draw on my experience with you for inspiration. But I think I won't use my real name. I want to be successful through merit, not because I'm a Crownfield-- but oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm excited is all," she breathed, clasping her hands to her chest as she bit her lip to try and regain some control of herself. "I just-- didn't expect you to be this supportive is all. I underestimated how wonderful you are."
 
"Well, I feel as if I haven't been making you happy lately, and if becoming an international author is what will make you happy, who am I to keep you from that happiness?" He replied obliviously between kisses, his face beetroot at the happy sight. Holding her close, guilt hit instantly of all of the things he was doing to hurt her but wasn't giving her the opportunity to succeed in her dream job enough to make up for it? Nonetheless did he offer a few more kisses, laughing in between them as the woman babbled on.

"I've been trying not to focus on the other elites out here, so why would I care if they turn their nose at my wife's wonderful stories?" He continued as he held the woman up, groaning and flopping onto the bed when the weight grew too much for him. "You've supported me through everything, Isabelle, I want to thank you for that."
 
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