#c.o.

He awakens with a start, the nagging sensation of being watched tugging at the back of his consciousness. The dull grey glow of yet another sunless dawn is filtering through the curtains, and it takes a handful of minutes for his eyes to get used to the half-light.

“Oh, for the love of –” he groans as he spots the tall figure lurking at the foot of his bed, red-lined cloak draped dramatically around his shoulders. “I thought we had an agreement.”

“I’m getting bored. And your flatmate threatened to throw a bottle of holy water in my face if I woke him up again.”

“Well, I cannot entirely blame him. You’re terrible with that harp.”

“I can’t very well amble into the nearest chapel hoping that the organist will let me have a go, can I? Although –”

“No.”

“Very well. Here I stay, then.”

“You have the lounge all to yourself. There’s no need for you to sneak into my room in the middle of the night.”

“It’s nearly morning.”

“Nearly being very much the key word there.”

“Besides, you look rather delectable when you sleep.”

“I – beg your pardon?”

“That neck of yours, hmm. Did you know that’s a family trait? All your ancestors, they had such finely chiselled throats.”

“Can it.”

“I’m serious. It’s not often you get to admire such a delicate architecture.”

“It’s four in the morning. I’m not getting flirted at by a thirsting vampire in my own bloody bedroom.”

“What a pity. I was rather hoping you would invite me to join you.”

“Get. Out.”

“Fine. I’ll be in the lounge if you should happen to change your mind.”