afk writing Alexis's atonement arc

“I’ve gotta ask- what did the bartender put into your drink to make you look so sad? I’ll fight them for you, if you like. They’re a friend of mine, but that wouldn’t stop me.” A sweet, smooth voice surprises Bestie, making them turn to their left to look into the shining grey eyes and flawless, smiling face next to theirs. 

“And we do think it must be the bartender’s fault,” another charming voice croons from their other side, the barstools bracketing them now occupied. “Since no one would be dumb enough to disappoint you or stand you up.” The two lean into Bestie’s space, their scents mingling and surrounding them in a cloud of leather, cinnamon, and cherries. It’s more intoxicating than the daiquiri weeping on the bartop could ever hope to be. 

“The bartender is fine?” Bestie hedges, not knowing whose cherry-painted lips and sharp teeth to look at. They dare not look at the eerily, compellingly matching eyes lest the liquor-induced flush on their cheeks grow more noticeable. They decide to look at their hands, wrapped nervously around their neglected drink. “And I’m not sad. Just waiting.”

“And how long have you been waiting?” the man to their left asks, crossing his legs so his knee brushes against theirs. Bestie considers whether they should feel afraid in this moment, wary of starting a lover’s quarrel or fighting off a jealous partner. They stop considering when said partner crosses their arms and rests immaculately manicured fingernails on their arm. 

“A… Um, a while?” The couple tsk in unison, leaning forward to lock eyes and shake their head in exaggerated commiseration. 

“Can you believe that, Lovely? Some schmuck has kept them waiting a while,” the man says, the black fringe of his hair almost tickling their skin as he conspires.

“Can’t believe it for a second, Vincent. Thank god we showed up when we did.” The other stranger- Lovely- winks in their direction, their fingertips a tingling, tantalizing warmth against Bestie’s skin. They’re practically buzzing under their attention– No, that’s actual buzzing. In their pocket, they can feel their phone vibrating, a specific pattern set to a catchy pop earworm from their highschool days. Blake, who they’ve been waiting for for at least an hour, who probably got caught up at those damn meetings he’s been raving about, is finally calling, and Bestie can’t find it in themselves at the moment to give a damn.

“What do you say we get out of here, yeah?”

“Lovely!” Vincent says from somewhere in the house, not needing to raise his voice for the benefit of his lover’s vampiric senses. “Have you seen-”

“Your platinum chains? They’re up here with me, on the vanity, where you left them,” they say with an indulgent smile as they put on their own jewelry, a pair of dangling ruby earrings William gifted to them last Christmas. They knew he’d be so pleased to wear them, wouldn’t be surprised if he got them a matching bauble this year.

“How do I look?” Vincent asks, instantaneously appearing at their side and putting the chains around the turtleneck of his sweater. The vampire prince admires himself in the mirror– an action that always makes Lovely giggle at its irony– and poses for them, leaning back against the desk with his hands coolly tucked into his pockets. 

“Like you’re trying too hard.” Vincent squawks in displeasure, an inelegant and childish sound that makes Lovely giggle, and Vincent has trouble repressing his smile as he crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. “You look like the pinterest board of someone’s Edward/Bella Christmas fic.”

“That was so specific and so cutting. How could you?” Lovely laughs harder, shaking with mirth, speechless with it, and Vincent grabs them, placing a firm kiss on their forehead with a smile, before knocking his head against theirs. “That’s not very seasonal of you, Lovely. You’re not keeping the Christ in Christmas.”

“Neither is trying to show up Porter at his own Christmas party… the bling, the cashmere, the homemade tang yuan when he told us we didn’t have to bring anything?”

“All necessary! What kind of guest would I be if I showed up empty handed? And what would you rather I bring- a twenty dollar bottle of wine?” Lovely rolls their eyes with an affectionate, incredulous shake of the head, opening their mouth to respond when Vincent’s phone goes off with a vibration and the familiar tune of Nelly Furtado’s “Maneater”.

“Lex, help me settle an argument!” Vincent says, putting in an airpod and giving the other to Lovely. 

“Sure- you’re losing it, and you suck.” Alexis’s bored alto settles in their ears without pause and with Christian’s drawling tenor greeting them from the background. 

“What are you bringing to Porter’s? Are you actually not bringing a host gift like he said?” Vincent asks after Lovely says hello and Alexis returns the sentiment.

“Of course not, what do you take me for? A simpleton?” Lovely’s boyfriend silently flips them off, mouthing a smug, animated “‘I told you so’. “I made Bánh Bò Nướng. You know Porter doesn’t know how to make a quarter-decent dessert.”

“What is it about Solaire blood that makes people ridiculous? When someone says you only need to bring yourself, you only need to bring yourself! This isn’t a pissing contest!” Lovely asks, giving Vincent the middle finger right back before shoving him away from the vanity with a shooing motion. 

“Maybe if that someone weren’t Porter, sure,” Alexis says coolly. “And every social function is a pissing contest, baby fangs. You’ll find that out soon enough.”

“This isn’t a “social function”; this is family. I’ll show you.” Lovely picks up the phone where Vincent left it on the counter and patches Sam in, who picks up with a distracted grunt. 

“What do you want?”

“Hello to you too, Samuel.”

“No, none of that yet!” Lovely interjects, interrupting their hilariously tempestuous banter. “Sam, are you bringing a host gift to Porter’s tonight?”

“You bet, a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue label.”

“I told you, Lovely,” Vincent gloats from the en suite bathroom. Alexis un-subtlely tsks in judgement.

“What?” Sam asks with a scorn too familiar to be hurtful. 

“Nothing. It’s just interesting that Vincent and I made our gifts, put our time and metaphorical sweat into them, while you bought yours. Very telling.” 

“No one wants your shitty food, Alexis!” Sam’s mate hollers faintly. 

“Then I better not see you packing any to take home, dog . I haven’t forgotten last year,” Alexis bites out with venom before mildly speaking aside. “No, not you, cher .” 

“We’ll all be outdone by William, so there’s not any point in fighting about it,” Vincent reminds them, the fight coming to a halt as the Solaire royalty grimly accept their losing fate. He comes out the bathroom, light makeup applied and long, smooth black hair casually tied back in a low ponytail so reminiscent of a danmei hero, Lovely can’t help but beckon him over to kiss him and run their fingers through his down-soft locks. 

“Disgusting. Have the decency to hang up before you make us voyeurs.” Alexis hangs up with a click, and Sam chuckles warmly once she can’t hear. 

“See you two and the princess in a bit. Don’t be late. We won’t hear the end of it from William until everyone’s together.” He hangs up too, and the line goes silent as Vincent and Lovely kiss, the older vampire looming lovingly over his sitting partner, covering their body with his, the fringe of his hair gently tickling their skin and making them grin against his lips. 

“He’s right,” Lovely murmurs, protesting weakly as Vincent’s hands curl themselves in their hair, fingertips gently stroking the sensitive skin of their neck. “There’ll be no peace until we get there.”

“Peace is overrated,” Vincent says with a hum, his lips trailing across their cheek to press a tantalizing whisper of a kiss against their ear. They shiver at the sensation, and one of his hands goes to their collarbone, pressing against the bare flesh of their sternum to feel them tremble for him. They return the touch, nudging his sweater up to feel his stomach, his warmth, before digging their nails into the soft, vulnerable flesh. 

“Ow!” Vincent says, jumping back more in surprise and mock offense than pain, and Lovely kicks him in the shin before standing up and straightening their clothes.

“We are not going to be late because of our libidos, Vincent Solaire!” Lovely emphasizes the point with a stern finger to their boyfriend’s adams apple. “Not on Christmas!”

“It’s January sixth,” he says with a plaintive whine, silver eyes wide with childish pleading that will not work on them. 

“I don’t care. Everyone was busy or travelling, so today is ipso facto Christmas, and we will not be late for it. Get a move on!” Lovely shoves Vincent out the bedroom and down the stairs despite his protests, but the prince gives up the act by the door, carefully choosing the right shoes to go with his outfit while Lovely grabs the bags of presents and food. “Which car are we taking?”

“The red Lambo, of course,” Vincent says with a grin, taking one of the bags out of their hands and twirling the car keys around the fingers of his free hand. “Tis the season.”

“Tis the season for us to move our butts– I’m hungry!” Lovely says with a laugh and a shove, bouncing on the balls of their feet. 

“You know as well as I do that you’re not hungry. One, you ate several tang yuan, and those are filling as hell. Two, our bodies don’t even crave human food anym…”

“Why’d you stop, Vin? And what’s that smell?” Lovely steps around Vincent who’s stopped in the open doorway, and they are gobsmacked by the scent of fresh air and chilled nature, the ephemeral aroma of frost with notes of clean ozone and grass. Newly fallen snow does not smell of peppermint or roasted chestnuts; it smells of dew and life, and it is the most amazing, wintry scent Lovely has ever had the pleasure of experiencing with their vampiric senses. 

“Well, would you look at that?” Vincent marvels quietly, the cold and happiness bringing a flush to his cheeks. “You got your white Christmas.” The two smile at each other, the moonlight reflecting off the snow and glittering beautifully in the shining silver of Lovely’s awestruck eyes. “I don’t suppose we could say we were snowed in and enjoy this privately .” Vincent raises an eyebrow, attempting a smolder and sultry affectation and failing. Lovely goes further from the house, further into the winter wonderland, calling over their shoulder at him without even a glance. 

“Not a chance, pretty boy! I want to have one of those snowball fights with everyone like they have in the sitcoms!” they say, marveling at the imprints their shoes leave in the plush snow. “You better get snow chains on the lambo!”