Billy Rocks, Reader? A:2, B:7. C:11? Vampire Billy <3 having a nightmare...(during the day? can vampires even have nightmares? or the person tending his castle has a nightmare) brought about by the rain.
My suspension of disbelief certainly doesn’t end at vampires dreaming! I had so much fun with this! For the record, I went with Vampire Billy having a nightmare, and his self-deprecating thrall/maid/reader character is there for him. I have no idea if this is what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy! <3 <3 <3
You didn’tparticularly care for the term, but you supposed there were worse. Truthfully,you considered yourself a glorified maid. You checked your cell phone for thetime. It was good for little else while you stayed in the castle. There was allmanner of sumptuous furnishings, but no Wi-Fi.
It wasthree in the afternoon. All of your allotted work was done for that day, and soyou weighed your options. Cat nap? Getting a few necessities from town? Youdecided on the latter, and when you caught sight of yourself in a full lengthmirror, you saw that it would be wise to change your outfit before you did. Notthat it would matter, given the way the rain was pouring outside. And thethunder. You had nothing to fear from it, but damned if it didn’t make youjump. You crossed the main room, and while noting to yourself that you would haveto sweep the rugs tomorrow, you found yourself thinking –and not for the firsttime –that it was a pity Billy couldn’t see his reflection. High cheekbones,black hair, and eyes that flashed gold when the light hit them just right. Itwould be a lie to say your face didn’t become warm at the thought.
Tucking your phone into the backpocket of your jeans, you began to pad your way up the stairs. The carpetingdampened the sounds of your footfalls in such a way that you could almost bringyourself to believe that some of your master’s predatory grace was rubbing offon you.
Youdisabused yourself of the notion when you nearly tripped over the last twosteps before the landing, though.
Blackness, and the crashing of dynamite.Torrents of dirt rained down somewhere. If he could hear that, he couldn’t bethat far from the surface, could he? Another explosion. The earth shifted. Moresoil pelted downward so continuously that he knew he was being buried alive. Inthe darkness, he would be crushed and suffocated, and…
On the wayto your own room, you walked by Billy’s. You thought you heard sounds coming fromwithin. There it was again: those small, distressed noises. You walked to hisdoor and knocked. No answer; just quiet. Should you make sure he was okay? Youwondered how improper it would be to enter his room while he slept.
You setaside the thought with a roll of your eyes. When a low, fearful moan emanatedfrom the other side of the door, alarm overcame all of your concerns aboutimpropriety. You threw the door open, and plunged yourself into blackness. Thedull light of the hallway afforded you little information, and so you drew yourphone and a lighter and went about lighting candles. (The castle hadelectricity, but Billy didn’t favor it.) When the room was painted in gentlelight, you turned your attention to Billy.
Hishair was splayed was splayed on his pillow, and his eyes rolled beneath closedlids. Elongated fingernails dug into the fabric of the bed clothes. His chestwas bare, and his blankets were pushed down to his hips. Subconsciously, youadded a new bedsheets to your online shopping list.
“Ma-“you stopped just shy of using the word master.Billy had a marked distaste for it. “Billy?”
Billy’shead turned back and forth on the pillow, and his breathing was becomingerratic.
Youshouted his name, but it was drowned out by a devastating clap of thunder.
Billycame awake with a strangled yelp, and sat bolt-upright; all fangs and blazingeyes.
Youstood quietly, and waited for him to settle. You’d never felt unsafe aroundBilly, but the fact that he didn’t seem to notice you were there came as arelief. He drew in deep, controlled breaths. When his breathing evened out, hedrew his knees up. He brushed his hair back with both hands –good lord; you’dnever seen him with his hair down –beforeresting his elbows on his knees. He licked his lips and swallowed before lookingat you.
Younodded, and realized you were still standing there with your phone in one hand,and your lighter in the other.
“Yeah,”you said, as you felt how warm the candles were making the room. “Yeah, noproblem.”
Therewas a plaintive rumble outside, as though some great beast had been deprived ofa meal. The storm was receding.
Youturned to leave, and you felt his eyes on your back.
“No, Ijust…” his voice tapered off.
Hefrowned, but dipped his head toward the mattress.
Youjammed your accessories into your pockets, and tentatively raised yourself ontothe mattress. Ferocity no longer shaped his nails. They were short, and clean. Harmless.
Billyscratched at his beard, and gave you a small, sad smile.
“It wasa long time ago,” he said.
