He knows he has time, he knows that. And getting to know the moon, the stars...that all sounds lovely. The newness, though, the flares in his temper and the sharp edges on her personality becoming more and more obvious? He's less sure how he feels about those. He's always been known for being sweet, soft, kind; it's unsettling, knowing......there may be something darker inside himself.
Alfred doesn't know what he feels for Herbert yet - it's confusing, a muddle of guilt, shame, hope, and joy. But if the Count peeks into him, he will definitely detect the scent of roses, winding in and out of all stray thoughts in the boy's mind.
A laugh escapes him, nervous as it is, at the Count's joke.
And then he realizes it isn't a joke.
"Ahem. Ah. It's all right. It's...it's never boring."
Georg laughs as well, perhaps because he feels he should, his fangs flashing in the candlelight. Though he's not quite sure what they're both laughing at.
"Boring is not a word I'd use to describe my son, certainly." And at the mention of Herbert, the scent of roses that seems to settle like a haze over Alfred's mind grows stronger. "He's always been just as he is."
Okay, good, he's laughing too. That at least takes some of the embarrassment off of Alfred, who eases a little.
And yes, sure as anything, when he thinks of Herbert, talks about him, there is a surge within him - a warmth, thoughts that nag and coil and don't seem to want to rest.The heady scent of roses, the flash of his smile, the feeling of his arms as he spent the darkest moments of his young life wondering if it was over.
Absently, he reaches up to rub at his throat, where the tether had been.
All thoughts that feel so different than his thoughts of Sarah had been. Why? He still doesn't quite know.
Now isn't the time, but still, that wistful little smile grows a bit.
"I can't really...imagine him another way. I feel...like he is just... comfortable in who he is. And has been for a long time."
Alfred is jealous of that, actually, if he admits it to himself.
"You care for him." His smile this time is soft, fond. Not judging in the least, for how could he judge? He's loved many men, in his centuries on this planet. He's happy for Herbert, he truly is, to have found someone who thinks about him like this. Someone who always has him in mind, in some way. How wonderful.
"And from the way he talks about you, I can see how much he cares about you, in return."
The young vampire snaps his attention to the Count with a start, pausing for a long moment. The sentiment said out loud, hanging there, all those complicated feelings wound up into simple words.
His eyes flick this way and that as he processes them...and then, softly, as if admitting to himself as well:
"Yes...I do care for him."
There is a rush in saying it for himself, a little color rising to his cheeks, but not in embarrassment. Thoughtfully, he takes a step forward, towards the Count, looking up at him.
"I don't know if you know this, but...before this, I didn't have anyone. No friends, unless you call the Professor one. My mother died some time ago, and my father...we grew apart. I have no siblings, I have never dated anyone. I was alone. So to have someone who cares... it's new. It's nice."
"Yes..." His expression turns sorrowful. Wistful. Brows raising as he turns his gaze upward, staring at something unseen. Memories, perhaps. "We get so lonely here, Herbert and I. The brood are... entertaining, I suppose, but they keep to themselves for the most part. So all we have is each other. And sometimes not even that.
When one has eternity, one can hold a grudge for a very long time, but -- " He waves a hand, dismissing the thought. "You needn't hear about our petty squabbles. Suffice it to say I'm happy he has someone, now."
Alfred watches this patiently, allowing the Count's words to meander off in whatever direction they are headed. He had gotten the picture, even the night of the ball, that he is a lonely person. And over the last few days, it's been...well, it's been evident that this place is quiet, without the ball happening.
He purses his lips, wondering what he should say, and then, drawing himself up as best he can (but still a little shrunken in on himself).
"...Not just Herbert, you know. You have me, too, Georg."
And then, impulsively, before he loses his nerve, he darts forward -
Wrapping his arms around the Count's body under the cape, pulling him into...a hug. Something still very human, indeed, but...something warm, and well-intentioned.
He freezes for a moment. Arms held out like he's forgotten what to do with them. Then slowly, carefully, he folds his arms around Alfred, engulfing the boy in his embrace.
"Thank you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're a very sweet boy, Alfred. I'm glad you've come to be with us."
There is a moment where he wonders if he did the right thing - but when the embrace is returned, he relaxes, leaning his head against Georg's chest and tightening the embrace (but just a little - he knows he is stronger now, and his control of it is a little bit...shaky).
His voice is soft, the smile in his tone even though his face is obscured.
"...I'm glad to be here," he admits, resolute. "Thank you for...for giving me a home."
"I'm happy to have you in my home." His answer is just as soft. Perhaps a little befuddled. Not at Alfred, exactly, but at this entire show of affection. He and Herbert haven't hugged in -- years. Decades, perhaps. He can't remember the last time, if he's honest with himself.
He rests his cheek against the top of Alfred's head, running his hand over Alfred's back. "I... apologize for not being more attentive to you. For not guiding you more. I will, in the future, take you under my wing better."
Something like a little purr escapes Alfred, a pleased little rumble in the back of his throat as his back is rubbed. This is nice. His own father really hadn't been much of a hugger...in point of fact, his father had been chilly in demeanor, chiding his boy for wearing his heart on his sleeve as much as he does.
Maybe having the Count as a father figure wouldn't be so bad, after all.
"It's all right," the boy replies, turning his head so his cheek is resting against Georg's chest. No heartbeat. He's getting used to that, thanks to cuddling up to Herbert for the days. "You have...you have more than just me to teach. And Herbert really has been answering every question I've had. But I...I would...like to get to know you a little better, too."
"Get to know me?" Again, that surprised, slightly confused tone. He hadn't thought -- why would anyone want to get to know him? Of what interest is he?
But he supposes that, yes. If this boy is going to be courting his son, living with them, being a part of their lives, then... then yes. That makes sense.
"You may, of course, ask me anything you like. I will be an open book to you." After a moment, he remembers his manners and adds, "I'd like to know you better, as well."
Beyond the fact that they are to be living together - truth be told, at heart, Alfred is also simply interested in the Count. He may no longer be with the Professor, but he is still a researcher at heart...and here he is, embracing a man who has lived for actual centuries. He must have such stories to tell, and he must not have had anyone to tell them to for a very long time.
"Thank you." He chuckles at the attempt to reciprocate - not because it's clumsy, though. "...Well, you can ask me anything, too. But I'm not very interesting."
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He knows he has time, he knows that. And getting to know the moon, the stars...that all sounds lovely. The newness, though, the flares in his temper and the sharp edges on her personality becoming more and more obvious? He's less sure how he feels about those. He's always been known for being sweet, soft, kind; it's unsettling, knowing......there may be something darker inside himself.
Alfred doesn't know what he feels for Herbert yet - it's confusing, a muddle of guilt, shame, hope, and joy. But if the Count peeks into him, he will definitely detect the scent of roses, winding in and out of all stray thoughts in the boy's mind.
A laugh escapes him, nervous as it is, at the Count's joke.
And then he realizes it isn't a joke.
"Ahem. Ah. It's all right. It's...it's never boring."
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"Boring is not a word I'd use to describe my son, certainly." And at the mention of Herbert, the scent of roses that seems to settle like a haze over Alfred's mind grows stronger. "He's always been just as he is."
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And yes, sure as anything, when he thinks of Herbert, talks about him, there is a surge within him - a warmth, thoughts that nag and coil and don't seem to want to rest.The heady scent of roses, the flash of his smile, the feeling of his arms as he spent the darkest moments of his young life wondering if it was over.
Absently, he reaches up to rub at his throat, where the tether had been.
All thoughts that feel so different than his thoughts of Sarah had been. Why? He still doesn't quite know.
Now isn't the time, but still, that wistful little smile grows a bit.
"I can't really...imagine him another way. I feel...like he is just... comfortable in who he is. And has been for a long time."
Alfred is jealous of that, actually, if he admits it to himself.
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"And from the way he talks about you, I can see how much he cares about you, in return."
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His eyes flick this way and that as he processes them...and then, softly, as if admitting to himself as well:
"Yes...I do care for him."
There is a rush in saying it for himself, a little color rising to his cheeks, but not in embarrassment. Thoughtfully, he takes a step forward, towards the Count, looking up at him.
"I don't know if you know this, but...before this, I didn't have anyone. No friends, unless you call the Professor one. My mother died some time ago, and my father...we grew apart. I have no siblings, I have never dated anyone. I was alone. So to have someone who cares... it's new. It's nice."
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When one has eternity, one can hold a grudge for a very long time, but -- " He waves a hand, dismissing the thought. "You needn't hear about our petty squabbles. Suffice it to say I'm happy he has someone, now."
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He purses his lips, wondering what he should say, and then, drawing himself up as best he can (but still a little shrunken in on himself).
"...Not just Herbert, you know. You have me, too, Georg."
And then, impulsively, before he loses his nerve, he darts forward -
Wrapping his arms around the Count's body under the cape, pulling him into...a hug. Something still very human, indeed, but...something warm, and well-intentioned.
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"Thank you," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. "You're a very sweet boy, Alfred. I'm glad you've come to be with us."
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His voice is soft, the smile in his tone even though his face is obscured.
"...I'm glad to be here," he admits, resolute. "Thank you for...for giving me a home."
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He rests his cheek against the top of Alfred's head, running his hand over Alfred's back. "I... apologize for not being more attentive to you. For not guiding you more. I will, in the future, take you under my wing better."
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Maybe having the Count as a father figure wouldn't be so bad, after all.
"It's all right," the boy replies, turning his head so his cheek is resting against Georg's chest. No heartbeat. He's getting used to that, thanks to cuddling up to Herbert for the days. "You have...you have more than just me to teach. And Herbert really has been answering every question I've had. But I...I would...like to get to know you a little better, too."
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But he supposes that, yes. If this boy is going to be courting his son, living with them, being a part of their lives, then... then yes. That makes sense.
"You may, of course, ask me anything you like. I will be an open book to you." After a moment, he remembers his manners and adds, "I'd like to know you better, as well."
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"Thank you." He chuckles at the attempt to reciprocate - not because it's clumsy, though. "...Well, you can ask me anything, too. But I'm not very interesting."