#tepes

Cooking Together

With living this way, a lot of your food was homemade and even better for it.

One afternoon, you decide to bake a new buckwheat bread together after he found an entire field of it not too far south of your cottage.

It ends, like you thought, in chaos.

"You added salt instead of sugar!" You accuse him.

"Well…..they look the same?”

Flour ends up on the floor, on your clothes, and definitely on Alucard's nose, that last one wasn’t a mistake though.

"You've got something-" you start, but he flicks more flour onto your cheek.

"Oh, it's war now," you declare.

Flour flies through the air as the both of you duck behind counters, laughing and giggling, both covered in the powder. When it finally ends, you’re breathless and tangled on the floor, clutching each other.

"You're lucky I love you," you whisper.

"I live on that luck," he grins, brushing flour from your lips before kissing them lovingly.

Protectiveness

Though the two of you lived in peace, Alucard's protective instincts never left him, especially towards his darling.

When you walk through the forest, he always positions himself slightly between you and the trees. His eyes always scanning the shadows, though he tries to do it subtly as to not scare you.

"Are you expecting wolves?" you tease.

"Only if they're foolish enough to come near you," he replies smoothly with a smile.

In the kitchen, he always hands you the duller knife, not that he says it out loud.

He wraps scarves around your neck himself when it's cold. He double-checks the windows at night.

"Alucard," you sigh, "you don't have to guard me."

He turns to you, eyes gentle. "I know. But I want to. I know you can do it yourself, but let me do it for you.”

You rest your head against his chest, hands holding his. "Then just guard my heart."

He holds you a little closer than before. "Without question."

Love Notes

Alucard has a habit of leaving handwritten notes tucked into odd places, he doesn’t think it’s odd at all- not when every part of his being belongs to you.

You’d find them in your coat pocket: “Wear something warm. I want to take you star-gazing tonight”

For inside the sugar jar: “You're the only thing sweeter than this.”

Also in the books you read: “You are the chapter I never want to end.”

It’s cheesy, yes, but of course, you can’t stop yourself from writing back, leaving playful replies.

Sometimes, you catch him mid-note.

"Caught you," you grin, peeping into your bedroom when the door is ajar.

He smiles softly, swiftly putting the note behind him. "I like reminding you how much I love you."

"You don't have to write it down."

"I know," he says, pressing a kiss to your hand. "But I want you to find it even when I'm not near."

“What’s that one say?” You ask, referring to the one he’s hiding behind his back.

“You’ll find it soon.” He promises.

Tending to the Garden Together

Due to your lifestyle, it’s only understandable that you’d rather plant your own food than go to the villages and towns far away for your produce.

Your garden is small but lively.

You planted it together with care, each herb and flower chosen with intention.

Alucard tends to the lavender and rosemary with reverence, while you tackle the stubborn wildflowers that bloom freely around the edges.

"You've got dirt on your nose," he says, smirking.

You look up, swiping at it. "Better than being sensitive to sunlight." You get back at him.

He leans down to kiss your dusty forehead. "A small price for your love."

You both love to spend hours under the open sky, hands brushing over basil, tomatoes, and violets.

Sometimes he wraps his arms around ypu from behind, resting his chin on their shoulder.

"Think it'll grow?" you ask, looking at the lemongrass in front of you.

"It already has," he whispers, meaning more than just the plants.

At dusk, you both watch the fireflies blink over the garden. The lake reflects stars, and Alucard holds your hand like it's something sacred.

"Promise me we’ll have this forever," you say, more than ask.

He looks at you with ancient, unshakable devotion. "For as long I breathe, and long after that too.”

Reading Together by the Fireplace

Your location brings you all four seasons and each with its own unique needs, but your favorite is winter. The snow falls thick and quiet across the prairie and visits your home each year.

In the evenings, the two of you sit pressed up in a nest of quilts you knitted with some yarn he bought you from a traveling merchant. The fireplace is crackling and the snow hushed the world outside through the windows.

Alucard reads aloud, his voice low and melodic. Sometimes it's poetry, sometimes ancient texts, sometimes silly fairy tales.

“And the prince turned into a fox,” he reads, amused.

"Sounds familiar," you grin, poking his side.

He arches a brow. "Are you calling me a fox?"

"I'm calling you sneaky."

He chuckles and leans in close. "Well I'm calling you adorable, my princess."

Your soft laughter echoes off the cabin walls.

Later, the book forgotten, you curl up together and talk about everything or nothing at all.

"Do you ever miss the castle?" you ask him, a question that’s been on your mind for many seasons.

"Not when you're here," he murmurs. "This is home, our home."

Morning Routines

Arguably the best part of the day is the very early mornings at the prairie.

Every morning, Alucard wakes before the sun rises. Not out of necessity-just so he can admire the person he loves most before the world stirs.

Before the rays of sunlights seeping into your room wake you, he takes the time to brushe stray hair from their forehead, kisses you softly, and murmuring, "I could watch you for centuries and never tire." You, still wrapped in blankets, usually stir awake with a smile and giggles as he kisses your lips awake.

"You're staring again," you mumble, slowly opening their eyes.

"Always," he replies.

You spend quiet mornings brewing tea in your little kitchen, the same sunlight slanting through the windows as they follow you two throughout your routine, like ritual. Alucard always insists on serving you first, placing the warm mug into your hands with the kind of reverence saved for holy things.

“You act like l'm made of glass."

"No," he says, kissing your temple and placing your plate infront of you. "You're made of stars.”

Stargazing

Speaking of stars, most nights, you two sit out by the lake under a heavy wool blanket, backs against a smooth boulder, watching stars blink awake in the darkening sky.

"Tell me a story," you ask one evening, as you usually do. You know your husband is a walking museum of time, full of anecdotes. But he also loves to make up his own, for your entertainment of course.

Alucard tilts his head, thinking. "Once there was a lonely prince in a castle of shadows, until a light found him and taught him to laugh again, just what he needed and more."

"Was the light pretty?" You say, clearly catching on to his flirting.

"The prettiest. Blinding, really." He mentions, chuckling deeply.

You laugh and rest their head on his shoulder. "You're shameless." You say, poking his side. That bastard, daring to be so sweet it made you dizzy.

"I'm in love," he says simply.

Your fingers intertwine over the blanket.

Alucard's thumb brushes slow circles. The stillness like the lake reflects the same love between you, deep and gentle.

He looks at the stars and then at you. "I used to think quite often, I was too broken for this."

You squeeze his hand. "You were just waiting to be loved right."

He kisses your knuckles. "I was waiting for you. Every day."