Okay, that's a lot, that's a lot very fast, but...well, the hug feels nice....
"...I...I'm a...man, though?"
Alfred had been educated in many things by the Professor over his time with him. Sexuality was...not one of those things, and he had grown up in a fairly sheltered home.
It's clear from his confused expression that some of his resistance from before may stem less from disgust and more from...simply not knowing one's options.
"Oh you darling boy." He doesn't mean to laugh, but Alfred is just so sweet. This poor, sheltered little lamb.
Herbert strokes his cheek with the backs of his fingers and nods, quite seriously. "I have always favoured men over women. It's just the way that I am."
He shudders a little at that stroke - but maybe not...in a bad way, exactly?
"You can...do that? I mean, that's - that's normal? Is it a vampire thing, or...?"
Well, he's confused and probably questioning his sexuality but at least he's stopped crying now, and he seems at least strong enough to move himself around a little.
"No, I was like this before I was a vampire. I've always liked men more than women." He sits back a little, to let Alfred stand and explore, if he'd like.
The frost and snow on his clothes has melted by now, leaving them wet - but he needs to stretch, and so he does stand, visibly shaking as he does so. His mind is elsewhere, though, his expression shifting around before settling on...a very telling, very sad look of a hope he's afraid to feel.
He turns back towards Herbert, hugging himself around the elbows, standing there knock-kneed as he asks in just the tiniest voice:
A sigh of relief escapes Alfred that he didn't realize he was holding as he gets his answer - and when he is kissed, this time he doesn't flinch.
In fact, he smiles, just a little tiny bit.
"...I think you're the first person to ever...say that to me? That there's nothing wrong. With me. Or how I am. I'm not...used to it? And with how we met, I'm - I - uh-"
He goes tongue-tied again, tripping over the fangs he realizes he has no idea how to retract.
Herbert will help him with his fangs. And everything else. He pushes Alfred's wet hair back from his face and kisses his forehead firmly. "I came on too strong, didn't I? I apologize. I was just so taken with you, I couldn't resist. I needed you, that moment. But now, well. We have all the time in the world don't we?"
That's...so polite and genteel, honestly, that Alfred is almost taken aback. This is...not how he had been told vampires are meant to be. Maybe the Professor was...wrong?
"...I'm sorry, too," he fumbles, lisping a little bit. "About the...book. That I shoved in your mouth. Really hard."
That...probably hurt, now that he has fangs himself and can reflect on it.
"I...guess we do. I...I don't really know...where to start. With all of this."
"I forgive you for the book that you shoved in my mouth really hard. I got excited." Oh, his little lisp is adorable. "The fangs will take some getting used to. And you'll crave blood. All the time. But it's quite difficult to separate one of the villagers from the rest of the pack long enough to get them up here, so we don't get fresh blood very often."
"Plenty of animals in the woods. It isn't the most ideal, but we get by." He sighs, very put upon, but then oh -- Alfred winces and Herbert tuts, reaching out to stroke his cheek.
"Poor thing. Once you've had them for a little while, you won't even notice them. Even when they're out."
"Oh - like hunting? That's... that's not so bad, I...I guess."
The thought actually makes Alfred cringe though - he can barely stomach killing a spider, let alone anything else.
"They're just so long," the neophyte whimpers, bringing his own hands up to examine the fangs by touch - until the words click, and he makes a noise of realization.
"Wait - out? You can...you can bring them in, right? Yours didn't seem so long when I first saw you."
"Oh you're so precious. I haven't met anyone just turned in so long, I'd almost forgotten how many things there are to teach you.
Yes, yes. They retract a little, to be not quite so long and cumbersome. And then when you feed, when you feel the hungry and hear that heartbeat and smell the blood in them, they'll come back out so you can bite more deeply."
"I think -- concentrate on them like you would an appendage. You think about bending your finger before you bend it. So think about your fangs retracting, imagine them doing so, and in time your body will start to respond.
The concept is easy enough to grasp as Herbert is explaining, he thinks - and so Alfred immediately tries, brow scrunching up as he tries very hard to focus.
He manages to get one of them to retract before he is asked the question, leaving him snaggle-toothed as he looks down at himself.
"Darling," Herbert coos, and taps him on the chin. "You didn't have to sneak in. You were going to be my honoured guest. Before that professor of yours shooed me away so rudely."
"Well the professor, certainly. We get human blood so rarely, it's always a treat." He sighs, wistfully. "I wish I had been the one to turn you. I'm so jealous that it was Sarah. But I'm glad you came back, and I'm here with you now."
Alfred swallows hard at the vivid mental image he gets of the party descending upon his mentor, the way he would scream as he was drained dry, the way he would no doubt beg for the help of his assistant-
Oh, he feels a little sick. He swallows hard, clenching his eyes shut for a moment to shake his head and try to dispel the thought.
When he opens them again, he brings his hands together to twiddle his fingers. Always so anxious.
"I sort of...if it had to happen, I...I sort of wish...it had been you. You wouldn't have...left me for dead. She did. I...."
He looks pathetic - shivering in the foyer in drenched clothes that don't belong to him, eyes welling up with heartbreak, paled skin going a little further off-color with overwhelm.
He knows that his father loves Sarah dearly, but Herbert hates that she just left Alfred out in the cold after turning him. He's going to have to have a Talk with her.
He rocks Alfred gently, back and forth, rubbing his back. "All right. We'll use my room for now, until we find one for you. There are plenty of rooms for you, you'll have your own space. But for now, you're welcome to my room. What's mine is yours, hmm?"
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Okay, that's a lot, that's a lot very fast, but...well, the hug feels nice....
"...I...I'm a...man, though?"
Alfred had been educated in many things by the Professor over his time with him. Sexuality was...not one of those things, and he had grown up in a fairly sheltered home.
It's clear from his confused expression that some of his resistance from before may stem less from disgust and more from...simply not knowing one's options.
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Herbert strokes his cheek with the backs of his fingers and nods, quite seriously. "I have always favoured men over women. It's just the way that I am."
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"You can...do that? I mean, that's - that's normal? Is it a vampire thing, or...?"
Well, he's confused and probably questioning his sexuality but at least he's stopped crying now, and he seems at least strong enough to move himself around a little.
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The frost and snow on his clothes has melted by now, leaving them wet - but he needs to stretch, and so he does stand, visibly shaking as he does so. His mind is elsewhere, though, his expression shifting around before settling on...a very telling, very sad look of a hope he's afraid to feel.
He turns back towards Herbert, hugging himself around the elbows, standing there knock-kneed as he asks in just the tiniest voice:
"...So there's nothing...wrong...with me?"
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Wrong with you, honestly," he mutters to himself, stroking Alfred's hair and rubbing his back soothingly.
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In fact, he smiles, just a little tiny bit.
"...I think you're the first person to ever...say that to me? That there's nothing wrong. With me. Or how I am. I'm not...used to it? And with how we met, I'm - I - uh-"
He goes tongue-tied again, tripping over the fangs he realizes he has no idea how to retract.
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"...I'm sorry, too," he fumbles, lisping a little bit. "About the...book. That I shoved in your mouth. Really hard."
That...probably hurt, now that he has fangs himself and can reflect on it.
"I...guess we do. I...I don't really know...where to start. With all of this."
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Setting his awkwardness aside for the moment, he listens to the explanation, nodding along with his brow furrowed in attempted focus.
"But...what do yo- what do we do most of the time, then? If - ow!"
A shiver makes his teeth chatter, and then he winces; biting your tongue is bad enough with human teeth.
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"Poor thing. Once you've had them for a little while, you won't even notice them. Even when they're out."
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The thought actually makes Alfred cringe though - he can barely stomach killing a spider, let alone anything else.
"They're just so long," the neophyte whimpers, bringing his own hands up to examine the fangs by touch - until the words click, and he makes a noise of realization.
"Wait - out? You can...you can bring them in, right? Yours didn't seem so long when I first saw you."
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Yes, yes. They retract a little, to be not quite so long and cumbersome. And then when you feed, when you feel the hungry and hear that heartbeat and smell the blood in them, they'll come back out so you can bite more deeply."
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But he calms when Herbert just...tells him. Without calling him stupid.
"That sounds...better. H-how do I...make them go...smaller?"
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I have to ask you though, chéri," he adds, holding Alfred at an arm's length. "What on earth are you wearing?"
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He manages to get one of them to retract before he is asked the question, leaving him snaggle-toothed as he looks down at himself.
"...Uh...something I...took...at the...ball. Ssssssorry."
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"Well, we... were sort of there to try and sneak Sarah out. And also we...sort of thought we would just be...food otherwise."
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Oh, he feels a little sick. He swallows hard, clenching his eyes shut for a moment to shake his head and try to dispel the thought.
When he opens them again, he brings his hands together to twiddle his fingers. Always so anxious.
"I sort of...if it had to happen, I...I sort of wish...it had been you. You wouldn't have...left me for dead. She did. I...."
He looks pathetic - shivering in the foyer in drenched clothes that don't belong to him, eyes welling up with heartbreak, paled skin going a little further off-color with overwhelm.
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He knows that his father loves Sarah dearly, but Herbert hates that she just left Alfred out in the cold after turning him. He's going to have to have a Talk with her.
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In fact, he buries his face in Herbert's shoulder for a moment, his tears soaking into the other man's shirt.
"Mhmm," he whimpers, weakly, muffled.
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"...Okay. I - thank you. Thank you, Herbert."
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