#maestroderomanus

Warmth. It was warm. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been so warm. His head hurt when he tried to remember. He was surrounded by something soft, and light. Not the brothel, all the bedclothes there were scratchy, stiff, cheap. He pushed himself up, trying to remember. It hurt to remember. He looked around, noises unfamiliar coming from behind a gilded door. As unfamiliar as his surroundings. He glanced around, moving from the bed that was far too large for him, the bedclothes were soft, so very soft, and warm. Red velvet with gold brocade. His feet were bare and he wore nothing but a long nightshirt. But he was clean, and how long had it been since he'd been truly clean? Clean and warm.

The floor beneath his feet was cool, but only because he was fresh from a warm bed. A fire was in the fireplace, and the room was quite comfortable. There was a desk, and books, oh so many books. Why couldn't he remember? He opened a set of heavy drapes, and stepped through glorious windowed doors onto a balcony. There was a decent breeze that felt relaxing on his heated skin. And the sound of water. And the stars. The stars were so beautiful. When was the last time he had seen such stars? He heard a commotion from down below. Many voices. young voices. Someone was arriving. The Master. He heard the voices like hushed whispers. He was here, the Master was here.

The boy who had no name rushed to the gilded doors of the room, reaching out to pull one of the large doors open. Though what greeted him there was not what he expected. Memories flashed through his mind at the sight of the man in front of him. Dressed in velvet as rich as the blankets he had been enveloped in, moreso, even. Long blond hair that framed a pale face with crystal clear eyes. A hard jaw line, yet the expression upon the face was soft. He remembered. This was his savior. He remembered now... this man had taken him from the brothel. But why? Why had he been chosen? He felt unsure about himself. He stared up at the tall man who resonated with strength. What did one say to someone like this? Someone like him, speaking to a Lord? The very idea was ludicris. After a moment of staring upwards into those eyes, he reached up, brushing soft curls from his face and said the only thing he could think of.

"Thank you."

Send 🍺 to encounter my muse when they are really, REALLY drunk:

VAMPIRE THEMED SENTENCE STARTERS

The tall-blonde-biped-with-gentle-eyes had come again! Mojo had flared his honey-like and flowery scent before actually seeing him. What a strange thing, than how easily his friends could appear without a sound, when the mean and pink bipeds were always so noisy... well, it wasn't to displease the dog! He could rest peacefully without fears, at least!