[Even just the practical, benign contact of being caught up against Alucard feels like a lifeline, a sudden sandbar beneath the toes of a thrashing swimmer. It's not so much that he's actually warm as it is he's just a windbreak from the chill in the air and in her bones; dignity quickly goes forgotten when he brings her against him and she instantly tries to cling as tightly as she can, feeling the first thread of sensation in her otherwise stiff fingers for the first time in what feels like forever.]
Oh, you found me —
[She says all in a rush, like she's desperate to get the words out before she moves, and her mouth becomes otherwise occupied with kissing him soundly.]
[It isn't as if Alucard hasn't considered it before. After all, he does find Rosella charming, intelligent, and of course beautiful -- but he has resisted for several reasons. All personal fears, all irrational, his undoing, and he knows it.
Still, here she is, kissing him. Careful with his fangs, he leans in, starting the Synchrony, letting her feel his affection for her. His concern for her well-being.]
[Later, there'll be time to be self-conscious — and mortified — about all this. There'll be opportunity to pick over her behavior, ask herself what she could've done better or different, reflect on the choices she did make and bury herself under a mountain of blankets to ride out the residual self-consciousness.
That's later.
Now, the Synchrony between them is making the difference between the thin veins of crystallization beneath her skin spreading into full-out patches of stone, and seeing those same slender lines recede back into warm skin — another narrow escape for a girl whose life of late has been little more than a series of narrow escapes.
But she's not expecting the recognition that chases along on the heels of it; carried along on the current of his warmth comes fondness, and attachment, and concern. And it's not that she thought he didn't care, but still — it's different, to feel it like this, and understand so suddenly that he really cares.]
Mmmhh...
[Later, it'll occur to her that a connection like that goes both ways. That he'll have had the opportunity to pick up on her fear, and her relief, and something else, too: a sort of shy, secretive pleasure about being liked.]
[They both have that in kind, he thinks slowly to himself. Rosella easily has had her difficulty in terms of affections, an arrogant prince immediately rebuffing her on account of presumed notions. The man would've been a terrible fit anyway, he thinks flatly, but at the same time he gets it. How the actions of others just remain in your memory.
And Alucard remembers things with a clarity, that will stick with him. It's what made him hesitant and afraid to be forthcoming to her at first, but he should have known better. After all, he recognized right away how clever she was. Insightful. Kind.
They both share that. The relief after fear.
Gently he parts their lips so he can get a better look at her, and he lets out a sigh.]
You already look better.
[wait shit he should really say something about the kiss]
I-- yes. That was-- I hope you know how I feel. About. That.
I — yes, I. Erm. I feel...I feel better, thank you.
[It's an understatement, to say the least. All this time she's been getting by on holding hands and prearranged platonic gestures, and if there's one thing this little adventure has proven, it's that all that clearly doesn't hold a candle to what Synchrony is supposed to be.
It's supposed to be this. Finding someone who makes her feel warm, and doing this.]
...I could feel your fangs, just now.
[Probably she ought to address that remark about knowing how he feels, but this is...oddly easier, somehow. Certainly easier than trying to sort out her own feelings, in the heat of the moment.]
Will you show me? I won't be afraid. I just...want to see you.
[Alucard yearns for this. To be with someone who will take him for everything that he is, all of his humanity and lack thereof. He'd yearned for Sypha and Trevor, but it was likely inevitable they would find each other; he was not blind, after all. Sumi and Taka, at first, was fast and intimate and he didn't care because he thought he would be loved.
But now, he wants to take his time. Not just for his own sake, but... for hers, too.
So he keeps holding her, as a prince should.]
If they do not frighten you, then yes. As you wish.
[So he tips his head more naturally, less likely to hide them. His lips part, and his fangs show.]
I think you could be frightening, if you wanted to be. But you aren't.
[It feels important, somehow, to acknowledge that. Important not to look only as far as the fairness of his face and the comfortable strength of his arms, and take only from him the parts that best fit with a picture of what the stories would say he ought to be. Important to realize that before this, before him, she didn't know that vampires could be gentle, or that they sometimes fall in love with brash young women who knock the pommel of their knives against their doors.
Important to give him a chance to be himself, she realizes at length, when the world has rarely ever afforded him the opportunity to be.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Oh, you found me —
[She says all in a rush, like she's desperate to get the words out before she moves, and her mouth becomes otherwise occupied with kissing him soundly.]
no subject
Still, here she is, kissing him. Careful with his fangs, he leans in, starting the Synchrony, letting her feel his affection for her. His concern for her well-being.]
no subject
That's later.
Now, the Synchrony between them is making the difference between the thin veins of crystallization beneath her skin spreading into full-out patches of stone, and seeing those same slender lines recede back into warm skin — another narrow escape for a girl whose life of late has been little more than a series of narrow escapes.
But she's not expecting the recognition that chases along on the heels of it; carried along on the current of his warmth comes fondness, and attachment, and concern. And it's not that she thought he didn't care, but still — it's different, to feel it like this, and understand so suddenly that he really cares.]
Mmmhh...
[Later, it'll occur to her that a connection like that goes both ways. That he'll have had the opportunity to pick up on her fear, and her relief, and something else, too: a sort of shy, secretive pleasure about being liked.]
no subject
And Alucard remembers things with a clarity, that will stick with him. It's what made him hesitant and afraid to be forthcoming to her at first, but he should have known better. After all, he recognized right away how clever she was. Insightful. Kind.
They both share that. The relief after fear.
Gently he parts their lips so he can get a better look at her, and he lets out a sigh.]
You already look better.
[wait shit he should really say something about the kiss]
I-- yes. That was-- I hope you know how I feel. About. That.
[gottem]
no subject
[It's an understatement, to say the least. All this time she's been getting by on holding hands and prearranged platonic gestures, and if there's one thing this little adventure has proven, it's that all that clearly doesn't hold a candle to what Synchrony is supposed to be.
It's supposed to be this. Finding someone who makes her feel warm, and doing this.]
...I could feel your fangs, just now.
[Probably she ought to address that remark about knowing how he feels, but this is...oddly easier, somehow. Certainly easier than trying to sort out her own feelings, in the heat of the moment.]
Will you show me? I won't be afraid. I just...want to see you.
no subject
But now, he wants to take his time. Not just for his own sake, but... for hers, too.
So he keeps holding her, as a prince should.]
If they do not frighten you, then yes. As you wish.
[So he tips his head more naturally, less likely to hide them. His lips part, and his fangs show.]
no subject
[It feels important, somehow, to acknowledge that. Important not to look only as far as the fairness of his face and the comfortable strength of his arms, and take only from him the parts that best fit with a picture of what the stories would say he ought to be. Important to realize that before this, before him, she didn't know that vampires could be gentle, or that they sometimes fall in love with brash young women who knock the pommel of their knives against their doors.
Important to give him a chance to be himself, she realizes at length, when the world has rarely ever afforded him the opportunity to be.]
I like that about you. That you're not...
[Her cheeks flush.]
Oh, I don't know what I'm saying.