Glad his effort is appreciated, he leans back into Herbert, into his arms, into the kiss, breathing deep his floral perfumes. Emotions well up inside him, warm and bright, and he just...savors them. He's happy. He's happy that Herbert is happy, but he is also simply...happy, himself. It keeps surprising him, how happy he is to be here.
"I'm really glad you like it," he murmurs, wrapping his arms over Herbert's. "You...you talk a lot about me deserving nice things, but...but so do you. You've done so much for me, Herbert. So much."
"Oh -- you'll make me cry again, you silly thing," he sniffs, but doesn't sound too upset about it. It's just that he's overwhelmed with happiness, with his love for this boy in his arms, and and with the idea that he, too, deserves nice things. That despite -- everything, despite being what he is, he also deserves to be happy.
Twisting in Herbert's arms, he looks up to the older vampire, reaching up to cup his cheeks in either hand, tracing the lines of his face again, smiling.
"It's only fair, isn't it? With how often I cry?" Gentle. "And at least I won't be startled anymore, if you do. Or...or at least, I will know what it is." There is a beat when he remembers that first day, that first time waking, and all the blood on Herbert's face....
It makes sense now, where that blood had come from.
"It's sweet and sad when you cry, when I cry I make a mess." But he smiles at the gentle touches, nuzzling into Alfred's hands and enjoying his touch. "I love you so, Alfred. I know I say it a lot, but I mean it whenever I say it. I hope you realize that."
"I will, eventually, too," he counters, reassuring him gently, not letting Herbert speak poorly of himself. Shyly, he climbs on tiptoe, placing a light little kiss on the vampire's cheek, then immediately drawing back into himself with a little blush.
"I know you mean it. I do."
He's not ready to say it back, not yet, but...the outlines of the words are there, dancing in his eyes.
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"I'm really glad you like it," he murmurs, wrapping his arms over Herbert's. "You...you talk a lot about me deserving nice things, but...but so do you. You've done so much for me, Herbert. So much."
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"It's only fair, isn't it? With how often I cry?" Gentle. "And at least I won't be startled anymore, if you do. Or...or at least, I will know what it is." There is a beat when he remembers that first day, that first time waking, and all the blood on Herbert's face....
It makes sense now, where that blood had come from.
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"I know you mean it. I do."
He's not ready to say it back, not yet, but...the outlines of the words are there, dancing in his eyes.