"I'd ask what I've done to deserve you, but I imagine you have a clever answer for that, as well." Still, he finds himself sitting up a little straighter as Alfred stands behind him again, reaching up with his handkerchief to dab at his eyes. Not quite realizing that he, too, had been crying.
"Lord knows you must have endless patience. I can't imagine how long that glorious cloak you made me must have taken you."
He can see why Herbert likes this. Being cared for like this. It's... comforting in a way Georg didn't know he'd been craving.
He calls no attention to the tears, happily setting to the task of brushing every tangle out of Georg's long, dark hair. Occasionally he pauses to add a little more oil, trying to bring some moisture back in.
But there is never any shame in it. No accusation. He won't tell the older vampire what he should and should not do...instead, he wants to set an example.
Let him learn what it is to live again.
Heh.
"It took...a while, to work it by hand. But I have so much time now. Even without the immortality, just...day to day. You can't imagine how much time I spent on the Professor, before."
"The professor did seem as though he required a lot of... time." He barely manages not to sneer as he says so; he hated the way the professor had treated Alfred. The way he'd order him about, making him him do everything, and how he never seemed to have any respect for the poor boy.
But the professor is off to write his Nobel Prize winning book, and Alfred is here, safe, with them. Finally appreciated for the fine young man he is.
Maybe Alfred would wince at the edge in Georg's voice...if he didn't agree. He's come to terms, at least somewhat, with how badly he had been treated.
Oh, well. The brush is starting to meet with less resistance now. He has better things to think about. "Yes, I have. I was taught out of necessity, but...I grew to love it."
"You do such delicate work. You can't see a single stitch on anything you've tailored. You've quite the deft hand at it." He holds still for Alfred, finding he likes the sensation of the brush running through his hair.
It's meticulous, the way Alfred brushes out long hair. He's always so careful when he does it with Herbert, who takes such careful care...this is different. Georg has cleaned his hair, but that's...about it, it seems. It's pretty and strong, but...dry, tangled, almost dusty.
He applies a bit more oil, focused, voice settling into the calm that comes out of him when he's working.
"Thank you. It...comes with a lot of practice. The tailoring I've done for years now, and...I brush Herbert's hair almost every night."
For a moment, Alfred is quiet again. Thinking. Trying to figure out what to say.
"...Well, then...I'll have to do this from time to time. To keep up with it. You have - you have such beautiful hair, Georg. You mentioned ravens...your hair has the same sort of cast as their feathers. Almost blue, in some lights."
"I don't think ravens have quite as much grey in their feathers as I do in my hair, but you're kind to say so. I..." He does his best to think of a way to simply accept the compliment, but he can't quite make it.
Instead, he lands on, "I don't mind the comparison."
In spite of himself, Alfred sort of laughs a little at the reply - it's not a cruel sound, though. It's progress. It's something.
"Once I have it brushed...would you like for me to braid it for you? Or would you like to keep it down?" Leaving the option to Georg. Baby steps, all of this, because he...knows it's hard. He can feel the uncertainty.
"I don't think I've had it braided since before I was turned. I... I wouldn't mind. It might... look nice."
He hasn't touched his hair other than to occasionally wash it or briefly run a brush through it in quite some time. "I've seen some of the braids you put in Herbert's hair. It's very impressive, what you do with his hair."
Softly, gently. He can tell the older vampire is trying, because he's...well, he's a little awkward. Maybe the most awkward Alfred has seen him. Less flash, less airs. Something real.
"Thank you. We - it's become a habit of ours." He pauses a little...but then decides to let Georg in too, just a little more. "You may have noticed, but I...I like doing things for people. I've never been so good with words, and so I...I like to show how I care, with my own two hands."
Spoken as he works so hard on Georg's long, wild hair. Letting him follow the logic himself.
To Alfred, doing laundry, bringing you a new book, braiding your hair...they all mean the same thing. 'I love you.'
"I had noticed that," he comments, his mouth ticking up slightly at the corner. Not quite a smile. It's hard not to notice Alfred doing things for people. Mending something of Herbert's, or helping with the castle upkeep.
"I... often struggle to find the right words to express what I'm thinking. How I'm feeling. So I show how I care by showering those I care about with gifts. Spoiling them, I suppose.
Though it was trickier to come up with something to give you. Anything I could think of to buy seemed... needless. Thus the roses."
Finally, the Count's long locks are softening up - his work is paying off in the form of smooth dark hair running against Alfred's long fingers, the dust and cobwebs swept neatly out by the brush, by the careful attentions of gentle hands.
He smiles, fondly, nodding a little.
"...I love the roses," he affirms, voice soft. "I'm - well, I'm used to not having much. Traveling with the Professor, I had...well, I had two sets of clothing and little else. I never want you to think I'm ungrateful for...well, for anything here. You have given me a home. That's - that's more than I could have ever asked for."
A beat, and then, deciding to meet Georg in the middle -
"I will never turn down a book recommendation, though."
"Ah, you see? Therein lies my dilemma with you. You've gotten by with little, and so you've convinced yourself you're contented getting by with little.
But forget, for now, what you need. Think about something you want. It could be anything at all, anything in the world. The most extravagant of desires you can imagine. Things you dared only dream of.
Alfred is quiet for a long moment, thinking about this. It's true, he just... doesn't feel like he needs much. He's not a covetous person. But it's clear that Georg really wants this, really wants to do Something for him.
A dream. Hmm. His brows knit, and his hands still for a moment.
"Well," he finally starts, softly, hesitantly.
"There - is...one thing. I don't know that it's extravagant, exactly, but it's... it's something I've always wanted...."
The excitement is encouraging, but - Alfred is still bashful as he continues.
"Well... it's - I've always wanted a...a workroom. A whole space to...to sew, not in a corner of my bedroom. Space for fabrics, a-and mannequins, and...just...."
He sighs, a little. "I've barely been given any space, in my life, for the things I like to do. So I think if I would dream of anything...that would be it."
It seems like such a simple request. And yet, if that is what Alfred wants, Georg will hardly deny him it.
"Choose a room to your liking, that you feel will suit your purposes, and we'll move your sewing things into it. Whatever you need to make the room yours can be moved in. A table and some chairs, at the very least. If we haven't any mannequins already, we'll find some for you.
"All for you." He turns his head to press a kiss to Alfred's cheek. "I'll start setting things up tomorrow night. It may take a little, to gather everything necessary -- and no peeking, you understand?" He chucks Alfred's chin affectionately.
"I don't want you to see it until it's completely finished. I want it to be a surprise for you."
The kiss and touch nets Georg a boyish giggle - his expression is pure childlike excitement. The boy, for all his studious nature, wears his emotions so very on his sleeve, happy or sad.
Right now - he feels happy. Loved.
"I promise, I do - oh, thank you, Georg. You have no idea what it means to me."
Pressing a kiss of his own to the other man's forehead, he pulls back behind, reasserting his grip on the brush so he can prepare to braid.
"I know it must - it must sound like a silly thing to ask for, out of anything. But...well, even back in Königsberg, I didn't even have a desk in the Professor's office. I had a chair in the corner. And it was broken."
Georg can't quite help the sneer that crosses his face at the mention of Alfred's set-up in Königsberg. He clears his throat and straightens his posture to let Alfred brush his hair.
"I'm glad, at least, that you have a desk in your room here. And soon you'll have a space for your hobbies."
Not for the first time, he thinks of hunting down and eating Professor Abronsious.
Oop - there's that needle of anger that tends to come up when he mentions the Professor to either Herbert or Georg. He tries to avoid it, but also... maybe a little bit, he secretly likes the anger on his behalf.
Oblivious to what Georg is considering, he parts the hair for braiding, gently and carefully.
"...Do you have any hobbies other than gardening, Georg?" Gentle, curious. There's still so much he doesn't know.
"Very few, surprisingly. I read through my library. Sometimes by theme, sometimes by author. Sometimes at random. I do add to it, from time to time.
And I have taught myself the art of horology. As I'm sure you've been able to tell, we have many, many clocks in the castle. Someone must take care of them all."
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"Lord knows you must have endless patience. I can't imagine how long that glorious cloak you made me must have taken you."
He can see why Herbert likes this. Being cared for like this. It's... comforting in a way Georg didn't know he'd been craving.
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He calls no attention to the tears, happily setting to the task of brushing every tangle out of Georg's long, dark hair. Occasionally he pauses to add a little more oil, trying to bring some moisture back in.
But there is never any shame in it. No accusation. He won't tell the older vampire what he should and should not do...instead, he wants to set an example.
Let him learn what it is to live again.
Heh.
"It took...a while, to work it by hand. But I have so much time now. Even without the immortality, just...day to day. You can't imagine how much time I spent on the Professor, before."
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But the professor is off to write his Nobel Prize winning book, and Alfred is here, safe, with them. Finally appreciated for the fine young man he is.
"Have you always enjoyed sewing?"
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Maybe Alfred would wince at the edge in Georg's voice...if he didn't agree. He's come to terms, at least somewhat, with how badly he had been treated.
Oh, well. The brush is starting to meet with less resistance now. He has better things to think about. "Yes, I have. I was taught out of necessity, but...I grew to love it."
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"And at this, as well."
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He applies a bit more oil, focused, voice settling into the calm that comes out of him when he's working.
"Thank you. It...comes with a lot of practice. The tailoring I've done for years now, and...I brush Herbert's hair almost every night."
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"...Well, then...I'll have to do this from time to time. To keep up with it. You have - you have such beautiful hair, Georg. You mentioned ravens...your hair has the same sort of cast as their feathers. Almost blue, in some lights."
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Instead, he lands on, "I don't mind the comparison."
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In spite of himself, Alfred sort of laughs a little at the reply - it's not a cruel sound, though. It's progress. It's something.
"Once I have it brushed...would you like for me to braid it for you? Or would you like to keep it down?" Leaving the option to Georg. Baby steps, all of this, because he...knows it's hard. He can feel the uncertainty.
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He hasn't touched his hair other than to occasionally wash it or briefly run a brush through it in quite some time. "I've seen some of the braids you put in Herbert's hair. It's very impressive, what you do with his hair."
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Softly, gently. He can tell the older vampire is trying, because he's...well, he's a little awkward. Maybe the most awkward Alfred has seen him. Less flash, less airs. Something real.
"Thank you. We - it's become a habit of ours." He pauses a little...but then decides to let Georg in too, just a little more. "You may have noticed, but I...I like doing things for people. I've never been so good with words, and so I...I like to show how I care, with my own two hands."
Spoken as he works so hard on Georg's long, wild hair. Letting him follow the logic himself.
To Alfred, doing laundry, bringing you a new book, braiding your hair...they all mean the same thing. 'I love you.'
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"I... often struggle to find the right words to express what I'm thinking. How I'm feeling. So I show how I care by showering those I care about with gifts. Spoiling them, I suppose.
Though it was trickier to come up with something to give you. Anything I could think of to buy seemed... needless. Thus the roses."
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He smiles, fondly, nodding a little.
"...I love the roses," he affirms, voice soft. "I'm - well, I'm used to not having much. Traveling with the Professor, I had...well, I had two sets of clothing and little else. I never want you to think I'm ungrateful for...well, for anything here. You have given me a home. That's - that's more than I could have ever asked for."
A beat, and then, deciding to meet Georg in the middle -
"I will never turn down a book recommendation, though."
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But forget, for now, what you need. Think about something you want. It could be anything at all, anything in the world. The most extravagant of desires you can imagine. Things you dared only dream of.
That is what I want to be able to give you."
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A dream. Hmm. His brows knit, and his hands still for a moment.
"Well," he finally starts, softly, hesitantly.
"There - is...one thing. I don't know that it's extravagant, exactly, but it's... it's something I've always wanted...."
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"Well... it's - I've always wanted a...a workroom. A whole space to...to sew, not in a corner of my bedroom. Space for fabrics, a-and mannequins, and...just...."
He sighs, a little. "I've barely been given any space, in my life, for the things I like to do. So I think if I would dream of anything...that would be it."
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"Choose a room to your liking, that you feel will suit your purposes, and we'll move your sewing things into it. Whatever you need to make the room yours can be moved in. A table and some chairs, at the very least. If we haven't any mannequins already, we'll find some for you.
It will be a room just for you."
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He doesn't ask for much...but he's also easy to please. Excitement rattles his tone, and he leans around the older vampire's shoulder, grin bright.
"Oh Georg - really? Really? Just for me?"
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"I don't want you to see it until it's completely finished. I want it to be a surprise for you."
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Right now - he feels happy. Loved.
"I promise, I do - oh, thank you, Georg. You have no idea what it means to me."
Pressing a kiss of his own to the other man's forehead, he pulls back behind, reasserting his grip on the brush so he can prepare to braid.
"I know it must - it must sound like a silly thing to ask for, out of anything. But...well, even back in Königsberg, I didn't even have a desk in the Professor's office. I had a chair in the corner. And it was broken."
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"I'm glad, at least, that you have a desk in your room here. And soon you'll have a space for your hobbies."
Not for the first time, he thinks of hunting down and eating Professor Abronsious.
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Oblivious to what Georg is considering, he parts the hair for braiding, gently and carefully.
"...Do you have any hobbies other than gardening, Georg?" Gentle, curious. There's still so much he doesn't know.
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And I have taught myself the art of horology. As I'm sure you've been able to tell, we have many, many clocks in the castle. Someone must take care of them all."
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