#hectorxvampirereader

Castlevania

Hector x vampire!reader

She loved to peek into that room, shrouded in darkness. She would watch him in secret as he brought to life another hellish creature, which writhed at his feet with a cacophony of noise. She observed his face—focused, grim, and gray.

No human had ever been so close to her, even though they hadn't spoken much. Yet he fascinated her to the point where she could watch him for days. He was proud, intelligent, a creator... No king or monarch, willing to give up their treasures for a mere glimpse of her attention, could compare to him. He had no wealth, only talent. Oh, but what talent it was.

"You are magnificent," she finally spoke, seeing Hector set down the hammer on the stone table and straighten himself with a heavy movement. She stepped deeper into the room, and he gave her a tired glance. "I didn’t mean to interrupt, but truly, you are fascinating. What you do is fascinating."

"I saw you watching me," he replied at last, crossing his arms over his chest. He leaned against the stone counter and measured her with his eyes, from her feet to the top of her head. She wore a purple gown that shimmered faintly in the moonlight. Her hair, partly styled in intricate braids at the back of her head, partly flowing down her shoulders, framed her pale face. Her lips were accentuated by dark lipstick, which emphasized the whiteness of her sharp, dagger-like fangs—something that had caught his attention when she had laughed with a delicate, pearly sound at his words.

"I must admit, I thought I could get away with it," she shook her head as if somewhat embarrassed by the fact she had been caught in the act. "But why didn’t you say a word?"

The man lowered his gaze from her and fixed it on the stone floor. A silence settled, interrupted only by his steady breathing and the rustling of her precious gown. She studied his pale hair, simple robe, calloused hands, and couldn’t escape the thought that they were so very different from one another.

"Your gaze flatters me," he admitted in a soft, deep voice, and she felt a sudden shiver run down her spine. She smiled instantly and walked even deeper into the room, maneuvering between the patches of dried blood staining the floor.

He saw her figure glide toward him like a swan over the calm surface of a lake, but she only seemed real when he felt her presence beside him. Usually, vampires stirred feelings of unease and disgust in him, maybe a specific kind of fascination, but she was different. Just one of her glances, sent through a small crack in the door, could give him so much confidence and spread through his body a warm, unexpected wave of safety and love he had never felt before. He wasn’t even sure if it was love or if he simply didn’t want to name that feeling.

"You’re kind to me," she suddenly said, placing her cool, delicate hand on his rough, warm one. He looked into her dead eyes, noticing sadness and worry in them—feelings he hadn’t expected. She was a cheerful soul, which was rare in their times. That made her even more special and fascinating to him. "Know that I know very well what Carmilla advised you to do. I knew from the very beginning."

He didn’t know why he was surprised. Her and Carmilla were sisters. They ruled together in Styria, came to Dracula’s castle together, made decisions together, and planned every step together. He realized that she must have known about the dishonorable proposal that Carmilla had made to him and that he had been pondering so intensely.

He was surprised, however, that she had also brought up this topic with him. He couldn’t reconcile her delicate, pleasant nature with betrayal, war, and death.

"If you ask me, I will agree without hesitation," he whispered at last, confessing all the feelings he carried inside him, feelings he hadn’t dared name. He felt her slender fingers tighten on his hand and sensed her exhale heavily as she traced her thumb along his wrist.

"Don’t agree, Hector," she finally said, closing her eyes. She released his hand and sighed deeply. "Carmilla is an excellent strategist and a woman of great intellect, but her heart is as hard as stone. Beware, she will use you without mercy and treat you like a dog when the time that favors her comes. Don’t let her deceive you, and leave this castle as soon as possible. Flee the land of Wallachia."

Her words seemed not to reach him. How many times had he thought about how he could start a new life, with her by his side? Maybe it was naive thinking, but that hope was the only thing that could bring even a shadow of a smile to his face.

"And forgive me," she sobbed, swaying on her feet. Hector caught her almost limp body and held her tightly to his chest, not letting her fall. "Forgive me for agreeing to be a part of this plot. Carmilla was my whole world, I knew nothing but her. This may not be an excuse, but know that I wish neither anger nor death upon you. So I advise you to flee, and it would be better if fate never brought you across my path again."

Her despair seemed almost theatrical, but he knew it was sincere. He pulled her tighter to his body, squeezing almost all the air out of her. The woman breathed heavily again and quietly cried, pressing her hands to her chest.

"Run away with me," he suddenly proposed, pushing her away from him by the length of his arm. She staggered in his still strong grip like a doll, struggling to regain her balance. "I know you don’t desire war and conquest. I know you don’t need fame and power. So run away with me."

She heard footsteps on the stairs and immediately broke free from his embrace. They both carefully watched the entrance to the room, expecting the appearance of an unexpected guest or someone who, with ill intent, had overheard their emotional conversation. And it didn’t matter whether it was someone connected to Carmilla or Dracula, in both cases, they would be deprived of their lives.