Raindrops

After everything that had happened, he decided that a break would be nice. One for some... indefinite amount of time. His sister spent most of her time doing contracts overseas anyways, and it wasn’t like his brother was going to miss him very much. Much like their father, the Calloway children tended to have an overemphasis on their work-life than anything else. And so, for once in his life, Derek decided to be selfish for himself. No one had really been around to talk him in or out of it anyways; so the Calloway doctor moved off to Seattle to pursue his neurological fellowship.

No werewolves, no vampires, no shifters, no witches, no hunters. No terrorist groups, no Bordeauxs to bite him, no Davenports to attack him. Everything was great. It was starting to become a place he could feel himself settling into, though part of him worried he would lose the drive that New York gave him. Nevertheless, the surgeon was in the midst of his fellowship, debating on the offer from his hospital to let him stay and become an attending.

He was a bit ponderous in thought over his morning latte that Saturday, still flipping through the contract and the layout of its details, the specifications and the requirements that would follow. Lost in thought for a moment, his was drawn out of his reverie when a shadow fell over his eyes, hovering in front of his table. Blinking a bit, Derek refocused his gaze onto the other, brow raising slightly.

“Oh, I do wish.” How sudden it was for one moment to be in the small gesture of holding another man’s hand to finding forms pressed together. It wouldn’t have taken any effort for Clover to break free, but there was something primal and possessive about being pulled into someone else. He felt as if he was being claimed. Perhaps he was. A tasty little morsel for the nobleman to enjoy wherever and however he pleased for the day. “I know not of denial, only providing milord with all that he desires of me. He has been awfully good to me, showering me in affection and charm,” he said, voice dipping a bit lower and huskier with their close proximity. This close, the bard could count each eyelash that fanned around crystalline eyes. “The only hungry eyes at the moment seem to be ours, Lord Calloway, but perhaps you’re right. Public might not be the right place for sweet nothings to be whispered. Pity, though. I would not lobby against hearing all the things you’d care to do to me whenever such thoughts arose in your mind, no matter whom we held as company.” His smile became more devilish, saucy. It was easy to allow the vessel of softness to give way to the depths of Clover’s lascivious waters. Men were lost at sea there until they found some form of refuge, like Odysseus found in Calypso, but they never stayed for the right reasons. Not that the vampire minded. He chased release more often than he did love. “I’m sure you’ll be very grateful for the time I’ll take when you’re done.” His other hand lifted ever slightly and found the waistband of the nobleman’s trousers. He gave them a soft tug, never breaking eye contact during the motion. Not until he noticed where Lord Derek’s eyes had begun to linger. A honey scented breath escaped the vampire as he leaned forward, lips ghosting over the other’s. “But of course, milord.” The words ended with a sudden surge, a closing of the minuscule gap between them as he caught the man in a small peck at first. He didn’t shy away, however, seemingly waiting for the embrace to deepen. 

The duality of formal and informal speech was truly what made Clover stay. A man whose family worth was nothing more than the crops his father sold could speak so brazenly with a man born to an esteemed position of power? It was too sweet a fruit not to sink his teeth into. “I believe where we end is up to my decisions and imaginations, if I’m remembering your generosity correctly,” he replied with an easy chuckle. “I’ve just happened to decide that today, I’d like to shadow a quite winsome doctor as he works.” He waited as Lord Derek entered his space, too curious to move lest he do something faster than such a man would allow. Perceptive eyes committed the man’s features to memory this close. He would be able to draw upon images of crystalline eyes and soft lined brow, of the sharp edge of a chiseled jawline, of he indention of high cheekbones covered in a lit dusting of pink. “All you’d need to do is ask, milord.” It was a challenge, not totally uncommon for the vampire. They were clearly leading to some sort of climax. Though, the nature of this left the mind much to desire in a downright tantalizing manner. “Mm…I do enjoy exploration. You’ve piqued my interests. Do carry on with the thought of what other activities may catch our fancy,” he returned in equal tease. It was just in time to be fit so close to the other man that reaching out a hand even slightly would result in physical contact. Trained ears could easily pick up the other man’s pulse as blood flow thrummed behind his skin. It was a reminder of how lively the nobleman was, how lost he might have been to the adrenaline of the unknown. “Do you believe you’ll have enough time for such privacy before your errands?” Hesitation met promotion as Clover’s fingers sent trails down Lord Derek’s forearm until they slotted themselves in between the other man’s in a solid embrace. “I prefer to take my time in private…to truly explore one another, but I would give you myself if you are certain you’d be satisfied with so little time.”

The blood was heady with fear, and Nixon couldn’t be bothered to stop. Hunger was just what it was, but the violence of their world was normalized in his mind. There were those who lived, and those who died. Lifting his mouth from Derek’s neck, Nixon pulled back only slightly, staring back at the other for a few moments, “You’re weak, Derek. There’s no room for you in this world. You sit in your fucking castle, sending men out to fight your battles for you. You ever been in a war, Lord Calloway? I have. I’ve watched men shove their swords through their cousins, their brothers – all for a King. I died for a king, and what did I get out of it?”

His grip tightened, his other hand bracing them against the table that he’d shoved Derek against. The wood splintered under his grip, “I watched bodies pile on top of each other; men trying to hold in their organs – it never worked out for them. What do you know about war?” Nixon hoped this was painful; he hoped every word sank even, even as he bit down onto the other side of Derek’s neck, taking another mouthful of the Calloway’s blood.

It was a bit hard for Derek to reply, much less say anything what with Nixon’s hand tightly enclosed around his neck. He couldn’t scream, and breathing wasn’t exactly easy. His frightened, light blue eyes centered in on the dark gaze of the vampire, hateful words spewing out from his mouth. Was that what it was? Because of his status as a nobleman? The worst part of it was that he had no say who was sent where. It was neither his place nor his interest, but he was still at blame. The Calloway continued struggling, his hands pushing at Nixon’s face, trying to get the former knight off, anything to stop him from sucking out all of his blood.

They were committing the same crime it seemed, leaving without escorts and roaming around the marketplace. Perhaps it was a desire all nobles had deep down. Or, perhaps he just liked to stray from the path as much as she did. 

Either way, he’d coaxed a well won smile from her as she looked at toward his steed with an unspoken understanding. “I do, just some errands that need attending too. And you?”

A melodious hum escaped from Clover as he thought over a proper answer to the other man’s statement. There was a level of appreciation behind the noise. The response was far smoother than he would’ve given the man credit for. “If I’m allowed to speak on my wants of you, milord, I’d be more than willing to share where I’d like to be taken. It would start, of course, with perhaps accompanying you today,” he admitted, head tilted and eyes never dropping their gaze as he spoke. “The very thought of how you may treat your patients has me teeming with anticipation for my inevitable swooning, if you’re half as good to them as you are your steed.” It was usually fairly easy for Clover to tell a man what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t have to dive very far into the depths of the nobleman’s character to uncover traits worth praising. He had been nothing but kind and a bit racy. Not a single doubt shrouded the vampire’s mind that he was in the presence of a genuinely good person. “I suppose my answer hinges on what the alternative to your charm would be. I could be moved to fall just as easily for a side of you that brings a bit of pigment to another set of cheeks.” The words left him and he let his smirk turn into a mirthful smile. Laughter bubbled over him and he found himself laughing gently at himself for making such a bold move. It was a testing of the water, a dip of toes into the ocean of no return. Would Lord Calloway shy away from the presence of the bard in his sea, or would he wash over him in waves of desire? “Never in a public setting, milord. That would hold all manners of disrespect.” He took a step forward and leaned his head back a little, letting the column of his throat be more pronounced as it dipped into his half-buttoned, lace poet shirt. “But privately…in the company of just you and myself…I would love to appreciate the familiarity of your name, Lord Derek. In all the many ways familiarity entails.”

“I have that effect on people, don’t I?” Nixon managed a smile, though it was as false as his words were. He glanced over his shoulder, his hearing picking up on nothing but Derek’s heartbeat. “Arranged marriage or what? Sounds shitty. The alternative is what – a proposal of your own choosing? That’s only if you’ll be around long enough to actually find someone to love you, right?” Nixon’s words were meant to be cruel, they always were. Even as he grabbed Derek by the shirt, kicking down the door to the empty stable they had been passing. The wood splintered easily, and Nixon shoved Derek inside without a second thought. 

“You’re not going to scream, right, Derek? We’ll see how much your father pays for his son’s lifeless body.” The vampire held the human by the throat this time, only squeezing enough to keep him mostly quiet, “No time at all, really.” With that, he pushed Derek’s head to the side, sinking his fangs into his neck.

Nixon’s words surprised him, more than he would have wanted to admit. Of course, it wasn’t like Derek had those same thoughts of his own, but it was a bit striking to hear it from the other man. The Calloway blinked his bright eyes out of surprise at the cruelty, already trying to formulate a reply before he was being grabbed and dragged into a stable. “S-Sir Reynolds?!” he exclaimed, the surprising strength and force pulling him in hard to fight against. The young man scrambled a bit, trying to regain balance after being yanked off his feet. But the nobleman didn’t have enough time to recover before the vampire’s hands encircled his throat, squeezing him tightly to prevent any cries for help. The tightness from the former knight’s grip was frightening to Derek, with a strength he couldn’t break free from.

“I never mind,” Yael smiled at Derek, hand going to his horse’s side, stroking it gently. “But I am a bit confused as to how you think your horse being here keeps your father from worrying….doesn’t her being here still imply you’re on your own again in some capacity?” She quirked a brow at her friend.

Thick eyelashes lifted and fell as Clover blinked through his surprise at how easily such naughty words were directed at him. “And where would you take me, milord?” he inquired. His own choice of words was purposeful. Would the nobleman chase after him with further innuendo or would he be tame? It was all so rousing. “So you did rush back to me, then. I believe that’s the most romantic thing a man has done for me in a very long time. To what do I owe such endearment or are you simply always this impossibly charming?” Clover took a step back as he moved closer to the horse to fasten his wares to the saddle that framed her middle. He lifted a hand to stroke a thumb under his own chin in contemplation. “It is indeed, and I apologize for my delay. My name is Clover, milord,” he said before taking a formal bow. As he rose he held a bit of mischief to the lopsided smile soft pink lips formed. “What of yours, Lord Calloway? What may I call you?” For the second time, he omitted a statement in favor of offering a potential pursuit. He wasn’t sure where this amount of restraint came from, but he wouldn’t complain about remaining a little coy.

Clover’s book simply paled in compelling comparison to the brief interaction that was shared between himself and the nobleman. The characters and story were beautifully told, but he was positively abuzz with excitement to get better acquainted with the other man. It was for this reason that he set his manuscript aside and ventured closer to the man’s horse. You could tell a lot about a person based on the nature of their animal companions. She didn’t seem to fear him, either due to his cold and lacking in predatory aura or the smell of fresh crop that clung to his very being, but it was her closing the distance that told him all he needed to know. Horses were easily spooked, seldom prone to putting themselves in harm’s way due to being exposed to their understanding of being prey. This horse didn’t seem to hold that opinion of herself as tightly as others. She remained a bit anxious, but her docile and gentle temperament was a testament to her caretaker and rider.

As the vampire stroked along the pristine, maintained mane of his newfound animal friend, his heightened senses caught onto a familiar approaching sound. He didn’t think he’d need the enhancement to hear the nobleman coming, though. It wasn’t as if the man was being stealthy. He smiled, anyway, pushing away his instinct to respond with something along the lines of ‘Would rather take the nobleman’s last name than his steed’. The Calloway man wasn’t someone he was trying to allure at a tavern. “Just a bit of light gossip between new friends. She’s quite taken with you. I can’t say I blame her,” he said evenly, eyes lingering on the other man’s gaze before shifting down to look at all he was carrying. “You weren’t gone long. I’m not sure if that means you thought I’d run off with her or if you were hurrying back to me.”

There was something about watching the stranger approaching and stroking his horse that was quite delightful. Derek appreciated the gentleness that the other man showed, and the nobleman wished for a moment that he could have waited a little longer, just to watch the interaction between the two. It wasn’t common that his horse was comfortable with other strangers; while she was quality breed, his horse had different signs of discomfort and tenseness with new people. But with Clover, she seemed to lean right into the other’s touches, eyes closing just a little bit longer than normal. His mother had the same effect to animals; they seemed to bask in her presence just a bit longer than normal. Derek slid next to the duo, standing next to Clover with newfound curiosity. 

“There’s no need for such formalities I’m happy to help, but I must ask would you consider selling your horse to me? I know you’ll most likely say no, but I thought I’d ask. Your horse is very beautiful and I can tell they’ve been well taken care of.” she said with a small smile. She loved animals and had a special place in her heart for horses.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Arya lifted a delicate hand, placing a finger against her lips as a call for silence and sealing of their deal. People of notable birth walking alone in the market was always a concern. But what was life for if not to bend the rules a little bit? 

“I don’t blame her,” She responded when he spook of her temperament. Many would describe her the same way. Loneliness so often spark the tempest in her. “Idle hands are troubles workshop. Or in this case, I suppose it’s hooves.” 

“Well, you never know who’s around here, do you?” Nixon refrained from rolling his eyes, wondering when he had to be this nice to get what he really wanted. Derek probably didn’t deserve what was going to happen to him, but then again – no one ever did. Nixon certainly felt like he hadn’t. “I may be a knight, but it’s not like I go around killing people. It’s been a while.”

All lies; they were too easy to even say now. “Thank me properly? I’m a promised man, Lord Calloway. You might be a little too late for that.” He hummed, finding it all mildly amusing. Motioning towards the next alley, Nixon followed Derek down it, “And what kind of price does your father find worthy of an escort?”

“That’s true. Sir Reynolds, there’s a reason why I feel more comfortable walking around with you,” he chuckled, taking the man’s words at face value. After all, knights were supposed to keep them safe after all. For the king, sure, but there wasn’t any reason for them to act against the nobles.

Honey dripped from the man’s tongue and Clover was but a bee, desperate to eat and revel in the nourishment such sweet charm allowed. He wondered if he said these things to all the pretty men he ran into. “Keep it up and your plan might just come to fruition.” He was having a hard time containing the warmth pooling in his stomach at the open displays of attraction. It was unnerving, yet hopelessly compelling. “Milord!” he gasped, hand quickly lifting up to cover his mouth. How brazen. It was as if the dam that kept the floodgates of attraction had broken, leaving Clover to be tackled by massive waves of sexual declaration. The man could’ve asked him to do anything and he would’ve completed the task with desperate fervor. “I’d say I’m certainly getting to know the Calloway in front of me and I’m not displeased.” Understatement. “We’ll be here. I look forward to getting to know more about you.”

If he were honest, Derek quite liked the way he and this stranger had their light banter. The nobleman didn’t really have the chance to speak so freely with others; everyone else he encountered was either serving him, a family member, or from another nobility line that required proper etiquette and restraint. The Calloway didn’t think he was overstepping either, but it was nice to be less... tight, for once. “I should hope so. I do hate my hard work being for naught,” he chuckled, even more so when Clover covered his mouth. How charming. Nodding once more at the other man, Derek stepped away, already walking to pick up the necessary items for his work.

Aurora looked up from her hands that she was washing off, wanting to clean the pesky dirt off of her hands before it dried and got stuck onto her skin. The redheaded girl looked at the man and then his horse, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Of course, I don’t mind, What’s her name?” she answered and wiped her hands dry, most of the dirt gone. She’d have to wash the rest off later. She stepped a bit closer and cleared her throat. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Not at all,” Aerith replied with a friendly smile. “I could use the company.” It looked like she was alone, standing by a message post and braiding the daisies she’d found into a crown as she waited for a customer to come by. “She’s beautiful.”

“No need to worry,” Laurel told him. “I know how to keep a secret-” Of course that is true but there was a bigger part which was that there was no way she’d seek his father to tattle on him. It would be a childish thing to do and Laurel believed herself to be anything but a child but she also had no desire to see the elder Calloway.