Tariq’s body was taken with a tremble like moonlight through the shivering leaves of an aspen. His palm was warm where it thoughtlessly rested on Fabien’s back and he gently discouraged his futile attempt to rise with a press of his fingers.
He lingered there, his hand softly stroking the boy’s back, until his ragged breath had calmed and some measure of clarity returned to his sightless eyes. He pressed his lips to the curve of his shivering hip before rising.
The vampire finished the work of undressing his exhausted companion in silence, stripping the last of the clothes that twisted around him like a wire snare with care. He patiently encouraged his limp limbs to move to assist him. His hands were gentle as they made some attempt to clean him up, attentively wiping his trembling thighs and back down before discarding the clothes in a hesp on the floor.
As though conscious of the dull aches and throbbing pains he had encouraged, he lifted him into his bed with very little jostling before quickly joining him. The press of his weary body was warm as his fingers carefully probed the wrist he had crushed in his grip, the swollen shoulder he had bound and twisted, listening keenly for the pained catch of the boy's breath.
“Foolish,” he said ruefully under his breath. “Je m'oublie.” He released him with something like contrition.
The first watery light of dawn streaked across the sky, setting the rustling curtains to glowing with bloodied light. The vampire shifted to his back and rested the boy’s head on his bare chest, stroking the curls of his hair with fingers that were loose and gentle with adoration.
"You were made for me." The hoarsely whispered words, likely to fall on unconscious ears, did not sound like an affirmation - they were contemplative and faintly troubled as though the vampire was mulling some obscure puzzle.
Whatever his concerns, they did not follow him into the black halls of his dreamless slumber. He drifted to sleep with his hand still tangled in Fabien's hair, the pair a weary tangle of warm limbs and soft breath as dawn broke over the stirring city.
He lingered there, his hand softly stroking the boy’s back, until his ragged breath had calmed and some measure of clarity returned to his sightless eyes. He pressed his lips to the curve of his shivering hip before rising.
The vampire finished the work of undressing his exhausted companion in silence, stripping the last of the clothes that twisted around him like a wire snare with care. He patiently encouraged his limp limbs to move to assist him. His hands were gentle as they made some attempt to clean him up, attentively wiping his trembling thighs and back down before discarding the clothes in a hesp on the floor.
As though conscious of the dull aches and throbbing pains he had encouraged, he lifted him into his bed with very little jostling before quickly joining him. The press of his weary body was warm as his fingers carefully probed the wrist he had crushed in his grip, the swollen shoulder he had bound and twisted, listening keenly for the pained catch of the boy's breath.
“Foolish,” he said ruefully under his breath. “Je m'oublie.” He released him with something like contrition.
The first watery light of dawn streaked across the sky, setting the rustling curtains to glowing with bloodied light. The vampire shifted to his back and rested the boy’s head on his bare chest, stroking the curls of his hair with fingers that were loose and gentle with adoration.
"You were made for me." The hoarsely whispered words, likely to fall on unconscious ears, did not sound like an affirmation - they were contemplative and faintly troubled as though the vampire was mulling some obscure puzzle.
Whatever his concerns, they did not follow him into the black halls of his dreamless slumber. He drifted to sleep with his hand still tangled in Fabien's hair, the pair a weary tangle of warm limbs and soft breath as dawn broke over the stirring city.
