#eiiighteenth

three word

“ No, no, of course not! ”

And he laughs, he laughs like he couldn’t have laughed before meeting the bottom of the bottle still on his hand, he laughs like he wasn’t able to while being caught by sad memories of loss of many kinds, he laughs like he’s hiding everything that ever hurt him because he knows he shouldn’t feel like that, but he does. He has a proper job that keeps him busy most part of the day each day, a proper roof above his head wil walls to match and a bed where to rest, he has proper meals to fill his stomach... but nothing is enough to fill the emptiness inside a soul that went through a lot more than its owner dares to accept.

He has Jolly, too, even if most of the time the man seems to slip past his fingers like sand or water, becoming thin air as Jules can’t breathe. He has Jolly, but he knows that Jolly belongs only to himself. Sometimes the loneliness is hard to bare, mostly when he let his guard down and memories find him weak and vulnerable.

It had been quite a few years since Alucard had called the Alchemist for aide ( ah, but was it not mostly that they enjoyed to fight together ~ ? ) and with changes made to Hellsing, to his organization, to himself, yet now and here was just the fitting moment to do so again. With how amusingly different everything was to years lying in the past. 

“There you are~ And here I thought you would leave me standing, my friend.” 

Oh, but did he truly think it? An old employment relationship, quite a few nights spend together in pursue and hunt for the unknown and nameless - to be brought to recognition in way only ink on paper would hold it worth. Truly, yes, it was quite a bit of time, and ( one would maybe think it as arrogant ) the Vampire’s approach had been spontaneous, the invitation given leaving no doubt of urgency ( and such still uttered with playful tone in writing ), the words to have even had a slight tone of the absolute. But all - indeed - in good friendship.

MEME ( accepting/selective. )

Δ = playing with their hair .

Cold sensation of unused leather against his skin makes him stiffen up, even though this kind of sofa offers a softer surface than the one he is used to, made of sapphire color & velvet skin. Yet it does not last for long, there is another body sprawled out, another source of heat close against his own body & the king moves just a little further until his own figure lies on top, long legs are intertwined into each other they might lose where one person starts & where the other one ends. 

Glasses placed somewhere else, his whole world has turned into a blurry mixture of faint light & a lot of black; fabric, shades, hair. So instead of trying to keep his gaze focused, his majesty lowers his head, rests it against a slowly moving chest & lids falling until they are almost, just almost closed. 

They do not speak for quite a while. 

Somewhere along the line, un-gloved fingers are mixing with his hair, caressing strands & moving away parts of navy blue from his features. He can feel them against his nose & along the curve of his eyebrows, the pace slow enough for him to calm down & to forget the potential danger of letting his guard drop just like that ( because there was no danger existent in the first place ). 

However, the king does not & will never learn to enjoy silence for long, even though when he speaks up again his voice is more like a murmur than anything else. « It seams like I am about to neglect my work for the rest of the evening yet I cannot bring myself to regret. »

“Don’t give me that look, mon amour...” The term of endearment glides from his lips just like it had multiple times before. He can’t even recall how many times he had uttered it (or the individuals who had been on the receiving end of such a nickname), but his voice never loses its “genuine” tone...

And that’s what matters most.

“Well, look who it is! Hello, stranger!” He’s perched on the side of the lab’s pool, his hands balancing bowls of food. It was feeding time for the water-types, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t also catch up with his old friend! 

Jolly’s a busy man, sometimes. Sometimes, like today, when the sunlight still hasn’t turned to gold and the daybreak outside is still a smokey sort of blue now that he‘s up, dressed, dreaming letters into life against the grain of his paper for the somebody still sleeping upstairs (and likely not for long–but long enough for Jolly to decide to do this at all.)

            And he’s off into the early morning, soon, with the letter left behind opened up and waiting patiently beside the cup of coffee left half-way to completion.

‘August,         Leaving early. Work to do. Be home by three. Hope the bed hasn’t gotten         too cold for you without me. Clear your schedule after six. I have         something to show you for tonight. See you later.’ -Jolly.’

He rolls over, expecting to feel a comforting presence by his side, but is met with nothing but an empty space. Bleary eyes crack open to peek at the alarm clock and, upon seeing how early it is, he huffs. 

He’s gone already?

After several long minutes of trying to get himself up, Augustine heads on downstairs, stifling a ywan as he goes. He parts his lips to call out to the other, but pauses when he catches sight of a note propped beside a mug. After quickly reading it over, he smiles and rolls his eyes.

What was that man up to?