"Oh." She knows that expression. Had seen it on his face when she'd turned away from his kisses. Rejection. She may not care for him in any sort of romantic way, but she's not entirely cruel. She tries to fix her mistake with a quietly offered, "I'm glad you enjoy it, then. It is a useful skill to have. It's just not for me, that's all."
She moves a step or two further into the room, hands behind her back. "Well the bath is mine whenever I like, which is wonderful. Georg takes me out for a walk around the garden most nights. I've never seen so many flowers. Our garden at the inn is all vegetables and things."
Alfred can't help it - when she walks closer, he physically recoils a couple of steps, looking quite like the mouse having polite conversation with the cat. One hand absently reaches up to wrap over his scar, an unconscious movement.
He's...still hurt. And maybe even still a little afraid.
"...I'm...I'm glad you are happy, here," he finally mumbles, meekly.
She's still hungry. She's always hungry, it feels like. But Alfred doesn't smell like food anymore, and so he's safe from her.
Sarah steps back when he does, toying with her skirt a little. Trying to cast a smile in his direction. "And you have Herbert. And that's -- lovely. Isn't it?" She doesn't quite understand, but. So long as they're happy. Herbert certainly seems over the moon about it.
He eases, just a little, when she steps back. His hand still remains pressed to his scar, however...there's - there's something in him, twisting in his gut, that he's trying to sort out.
"He...saved me."
Alfred doesn't smile back at her. He can't. His voice trembles a little, expression...starting to crack a bit, around the edges.
"I don't know," she admits, shaking her head and staring at the ground. "I thought we could just -- be friends. I thought it would be as easy as that. That you and I could get along so we could live together here.
The words are small and hollow - and in that moment, the dam shatters. He hugs the shirt he's holding to his chest like a security blanket, standing there terrified, knock-kneed, and hurt. Tears start to course down his face, as much as he wishes they would stop, for once. He just wants to be strong. To be brave.
Why, WHY does it never WORK?
"You - you DRAINED me. And you LEFT me there - I - I almost - I came so close to dying, Sarah, that I met the Reaper my first morning.
"I didn't mean to drain you. I was so hungry, Alfred. I didn't understand -- my body felt wrong. He didn't tell me what it would be like, when he turned me. Just that I would be immortal, and he would teach me everything, in time.
I'm sorry I left you, Alfred. I got scared and ran back to the castle. I didn't realize -- " She sighs, frustrated, and wraps her arms around her waist, shaking her head. "I wasn't thinking anything at all. Just about how hungry I was."
On some level, Alfred knows he's being a little unfair. Sarah is eight years younger than he is, and...well, he knows that Georg says quite a lot without explaining much of anything.
But he can still so clearly see that night in his memory, can still feel -
Hooking a finger under his collar, he bears the scar for Sarah to see clearly, likely for the first time. It's healing slowly, improperly, an angry twisted swath of tissue. He's sobbing, messily, but...he doesn't care. He needs to say this. He needs to get this out.
"You don't have to tell me how hungry you were. I know. I KNOW."
Sarah gasps in shock at the sight of the scar she left behind on Alfred's neck. Messy, twisted, spread over his neck, almost to his shoulder. "I did that?" she asks, horrified, her hand over her mouth.
She remembers biting him a few times. Digging in with newly sharpened teeth. Feeling hot blood wash over her tongue and smear across her face and hands. Feeling truly alive for the first time in her life. Not thinking one thought about Alfred, or the pain he must be in. How much she was hurting him.
Her reaction - it catches him off guard. She looks...horrified.
She genuinely hadn't thought about it, had she? All this time spent painting her in his head as a monster, the shadow he jumps at, a recurring nightmare...but now he's seeing the reality of it.
She's a seventeen year old girl who doesn't know what she had done.
"...Yes," he finally manages, just a little more calmly. He closes the distance somewhat, letting her get a better look at the consequences of her actions. "And you were - you were so new, I...I haven't turned right. I'm still having...a lot of trouble with it all."
"And after -- I did, didn't I? I just left you there. My only thought was getting back to the castle." Everything had felt incredible but also so, so wrong. She had ached, and was so thirsty. So hungry from the moment she started turning.
Everything had happened so quickly, she could barely remember any of it. Georg had bitten her, and then they danced, and then suddenly she was in the snow with Alfred and everything was so cold.
"I didn't mean to turn you. I didn't know what I was doing. Not at all."
Scrubbing his face with the back of his hand, he draws a long, steadying breath, watching her, watching her reactions. The little flare of his temper starts to cool a little, sympathy entering his expression as he speaks again.
"You...I know you didn't. You had no idea. I - Sarah, I tried to tell you. I wanted to warn you, before the Ball. I...I don't like to think of it, now, but...it was my job, before, to know about vampires.
She does look a bit sheepish at that, because it's true. She hadn't wanted to listen to him. "Oh -- yes. You tried to talk to me in the bath. But I was just so excited about everything. The Ball, the Count fawning over me. All the presents he'd gifted me with. The way he talked about it all made it all seem so magical -- how we'd rule over the night together.
I was finally getting the life that I wanted. I didn't want to listen to anyone who told me no anymore."
There's another clench in his jaw...but he doesn't look angry. He doesn't look angry, because he understands. Like him, she wanted something she thought she could never have.
"...I...understand that, more than you think I do. But I wish you had - at least let me explain, let me tell you what was going to happen to you. I-"
He stops short, blinking as he processes his thoughts.
"I...I may have gone about it wrong, myself. S-some of the blame...some of it is mine. But I wish I could at least have given you more information."
"Alfred -- " Sarah sighs and reaches out to touch Alfred's arm lightly. Looking... sad. For both of them. She does feel badly, for not having listened to him. For hurting him so viciously. Georg is just so charming, the way he talked about being a vampire made it sound very romantic. But it wasn't like that, at all.
"I wish I had, too. I should have. And I'm sorry for hurting you like I did. I understand why you're angry with me, now."
In spite of himself, he still flinches at her touch - but he doesn't pull away from it. He looks from her hand, to his own, trembling and white-knuckled...then up to her face. Sad. Apologetic. Remorseful.
He sighs, looking...tired, more than anything else.
"...I'm not angry, exactly. I'm - hurt. And part of that is what you did to me, but...." A beat, brows furrowed. "Part of it is that I...I should have known better. This - you and I - it was never going to be what I thought it was. It just...it wasn't."
He rests his hand over hers.
"It might take me some time to get over it, Sarah. Both how you hurt me, and...and how I...don't love you. And maybe I never did."
"I think I wanted very much to be in love with you, Alfred," she says slowly, trying to work out herself what exactly she had felt for this lovely boy.
"You are everything I should want. You're kind, and you're very dear, and you were very sweet to me when we met. But then I met the Count, and I saw -- what I actually did want. Freedom, and adventure, and most of all to be away from my old life.
And I'm sorry that I hurt you. Not just the bite, but in thinking that I might love you. I was foolish, and I hope you can forgive me that."
For a moment, Alfred just nods along - and then...uncharacteristically, he lets out a small, bitter little laugh. It isn't that he doesn't think her sincere - no, it's something else.
"...In time, Sarah. I believe you are sorry, but...it will take me time."
He pauses a moment, looking around the room as if for an answer to what to say next. And then he looks at her again, a strained little smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I - I'm not laughing at you. It's just...well. Can you keep a secret?"
She had been about to tell him not to be cruel, but then he's apologizing and she relaxes a little. The laugh had taken her by surprise; it had seemed so unlike him.
Still, Sarah regards him warily. "I think that I can, yes. I promise to keep yours."
His expression, now that he's stopped crying, is...tired. It's so tired, for someone of his age, the face of someone worked too hard for far too long.
He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, drawing a slow breath in and out, before dropping it back to his side in an exasperated sort of motion.
"...The truth is, Sarah, that I am...so, so tired of being called 'nice.' Or 'kind.' Or 'sweet.' I may be these things, but they just...they aren't all there is to me. But that's all I have heard for years. 'Alfred, you are such a nice boy.' Or, or - 'you are very kind, but.' It's never been that I am bright, or strong, o-or even hard working.
Just...nice. Over and over and over again, like that's all people could see in me. Do you know how hard that is?"
For just a moment, as he's dispensing with all this, it's easier to see Alfred for what he actually is - a young man, perhaps just as deeply in need of freedom as Sarah was. He shakes his head a little, considering.
"At least...until Georg. Until...until Herbert. They had other things to say about me when we met. It was - it was good to hear."
"I do," she says, quietly, dropping her hand from his arm. "I think your nice is my pretty. Papa keeps saying, oh, what a blessing it is to have a beautiful daughter. It means you'll find a good husband. Mama would brush my hair and say of, how did we get so lucky to have a pretty daughter like you. Like that's my only value, is my good looks.
And then Georg appeared that night and even thought he caught me in the bath, he said nothing about my looks at all. He just asked me... is this all you want?
Alfred, at this...looks thoughtful. And perhaps a little guilty. He had been taken with her looks, of course, as much as he would like to say he hadn't. It was all part of the ideal, the thought of being the hero saving the damsel, striking out there like a knight, because that is what men are meant to do, isn't it? Be the hero, save the princess?
That's it, right? What it's meant to be about, for a man?
Saving a woman?
Hm.
So he just...nods.
"...You do understand, then." A little sigh.
"I think...we both belong here. I just wish it had happened differently. I am...glad, that Georg is opening the world to you. You deserve that much. We both do." A little chuckle, sort of sad.
"We were right. There was freedom out there. It just wasn't where we expected it."
"I'm glad that we both found our freedom. Even if it wasn't with each other." Her smile is a bit sad, as well. They'll both need time, to mourn for what they could have had. What they wanted to want to have.
"He is," Sarah adds, quickly. "He's promised me we can travel some day. He just needs to teach me how to be a proper vampire, first. But already, the world feels so much bigger now that I'm outside of the inn."
It's not going to be easy. It's going to be complicated and painful, living around each other, at least for a while...but at least now she's less of a demon in his mind, now. She was scared. So was easy. They both made poor choices, and now here they are.
"I - I'm glad." He pauses, just for a moment, and then -
"...You know, I - I've travelled, quite a bit. If you...if you ever want to hear about any of it. I'd...be happy to tell you stories."
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She moves a step or two further into the room, hands behind her back. "Well the bath is mine whenever I like, which is wonderful. Georg takes me out for a walk around the garden most nights. I've never seen so many flowers. Our garden at the inn is all vegetables and things."
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Alfred can't help it - when she walks closer, he physically recoils a couple of steps, looking quite like the mouse having polite conversation with the cat. One hand absently reaches up to wrap over his scar, an unconscious movement.
He's...still hurt. And maybe even still a little afraid.
"...I'm...I'm glad you are happy, here," he finally mumbles, meekly.
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Sarah steps back when he does, toying with her skirt a little. Trying to cast a smile in his direction. "And you have Herbert. And that's -- lovely. Isn't it?" She doesn't quite understand, but. So long as they're happy. Herbert certainly seems over the moon about it.
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"He...saved me."
Alfred doesn't smile back at her. He can't. His voice trembles a little, expression...starting to crack a bit, around the edges.
"...Sarah, what are we doing? What is this?"
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But it's not easy, is it?"
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The words are small and hollow - and in that moment, the dam shatters. He hugs the shirt he's holding to his chest like a security blanket, standing there terrified, knock-kneed, and hurt. Tears start to course down his face, as much as he wishes they would stop, for once. He just wants to be strong. To be brave.
Why, WHY does it never WORK?
"You - you DRAINED me. And you LEFT me there - I - I almost - I came so close to dying, Sarah, that I met the Reaper my first morning.
Why? Why would it be EASY?"
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I'm sorry I left you, Alfred. I got scared and ran back to the castle. I didn't realize -- " She sighs, frustrated, and wraps her arms around her waist, shaking her head. "I wasn't thinking anything at all. Just about how hungry I was."
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On some level, Alfred knows he's being a little unfair. Sarah is eight years younger than he is, and...well, he knows that Georg says quite a lot without explaining much of anything.
But he can still so clearly see that night in his memory, can still feel -
Hooking a finger under his collar, he bears the scar for Sarah to see clearly, likely for the first time. It's healing slowly, improperly, an angry twisted swath of tissue. He's sobbing, messily, but...he doesn't care. He needs to say this. He needs to get this out.
"You don't have to tell me how hungry you were. I know. I KNOW."
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She remembers biting him a few times. Digging in with newly sharpened teeth. Feeling hot blood wash over her tongue and smear across her face and hands. Feeling truly alive for the first time in her life. Not thinking one thought about Alfred, or the pain he must be in. How much she was hurting him.
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She genuinely hadn't thought about it, had she? All this time spent painting her in his head as a monster, the shadow he jumps at, a recurring nightmare...but now he's seeing the reality of it.
She's a seventeen year old girl who doesn't know what she had done.
"...Yes," he finally manages, just a little more calmly. He closes the distance somewhat, letting her get a better look at the consequences of her actions. "And you were - you were so new, I...I haven't turned right. I'm still having...a lot of trouble with it all."
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Everything had happened so quickly, she could barely remember any of it. Georg had bitten her, and then they danced, and then suddenly she was in the snow with Alfred and everything was so cold.
"I didn't mean to turn you. I didn't know what I was doing. Not at all."
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Scrubbing his face with the back of his hand, he draws a long, steadying breath, watching her, watching her reactions. The little flare of his temper starts to cool a little, sympathy entering his expression as he speaks again.
"You...I know you didn't. You had no idea. I - Sarah, I tried to tell you. I wanted to warn you, before the Ball. I...I don't like to think of it, now, but...it was my job, before, to know about vampires.
I couldn't...get you to hear me."
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I was finally getting the life that I wanted. I didn't want to listen to anyone who told me no anymore."
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"...I...understand that, more than you think I do. But I wish you had - at least let me explain, let me tell you what was going to happen to you. I-"
He stops short, blinking as he processes his thoughts.
"I...I may have gone about it wrong, myself. S-some of the blame...some of it is mine. But I wish I could at least have given you more information."
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"I wish I had, too. I should have. And I'm sorry for hurting you like I did. I understand why you're angry with me, now."
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He sighs, looking...tired, more than anything else.
"...I'm not angry, exactly. I'm - hurt. And part of that is what you did to me, but...." A beat, brows furrowed. "Part of it is that I...I should have known better. This - you and I - it was never going to be what I thought it was. It just...it wasn't."
He rests his hand over hers.
"It might take me some time to get over it, Sarah. Both how you hurt me, and...and how I...don't love you. And maybe I never did."
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"You are everything I should want. You're kind, and you're very dear, and you were very sweet to me when we met. But then I met the Count, and I saw -- what I actually did want. Freedom, and adventure, and most of all to be away from my old life.
And I'm sorry that I hurt you. Not just the bite, but in thinking that I might love you. I was foolish, and I hope you can forgive me that."
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"...In time, Sarah. I believe you are sorry, but...it will take me time."
He pauses a moment, looking around the room as if for an answer to what to say next. And then he looks at her again, a strained little smile on his face. "I'm sorry, I - I'm not laughing at you. It's just...well. Can you keep a secret?"
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Still, Sarah regards him warily. "I think that I can, yes. I promise to keep yours."
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He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, drawing a slow breath in and out, before dropping it back to his side in an exasperated sort of motion.
"...The truth is, Sarah, that I am...so, so tired of being called 'nice.' Or 'kind.' Or 'sweet.' I may be these things, but they just...they aren't all there is to me. But that's all I have heard for years. 'Alfred, you are such a nice boy.' Or, or - 'you are very kind, but.' It's never been that I am bright, or strong, o-or even hard working.
Just...nice. Over and over and over again, like that's all people could see in me. Do you know how hard that is?"
For just a moment, as he's dispensing with all this, it's easier to see Alfred for what he actually is - a young man, perhaps just as deeply in need of freedom as Sarah was. He shakes his head a little, considering.
"At least...until Georg. Until...until Herbert. They had other things to say about me when we met. It was - it was good to hear."
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And then Georg appeared that night and even thought he caught me in the bath, he said nothing about my looks at all. He just asked me... is this all you want?
And it wasn't. So I came with him."
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That's it, right? What it's meant to be about, for a man?
Saving a woman?
Hm.
So he just...nods.
"...You do understand, then." A little sigh.
"I think...we both belong here. I just wish it had happened differently. I am...glad, that Georg is opening the world to you. You deserve that much. We both do." A little chuckle, sort of sad.
"We were right. There was freedom out there. It just wasn't where we expected it."
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"He is," Sarah adds, quickly. "He's promised me we can travel some day. He just needs to teach me how to be a proper vampire, first. But already, the world feels so much bigger now that I'm outside of the inn."
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It's not going to be easy. It's going to be complicated and painful, living around each other, at least for a while...but at least now she's less of a demon in his mind, now. She was scared. So was easy. They both made poor choices, and now here they are.
"I - I'm glad." He pauses, just for a moment, and then -
"...You know, I - I've travelled, quite a bit. If you...if you ever want to hear about any of it. I'd...be happy to tell you stories."
An olive branch, gently and cautiously held.