I thought you knew I was filthy rich
I thought you knew I never answer my phone
I thought you knew I was a late night with a bad bite I thought you knew.
There was no denying that Sebastian felt absolutely awful. The very cold had settled into his bones, his head felt as if it was percussion instrument, and his nose seemed hellbent upon being anything but clear. Sebastian hardly required breath and yet, it was still, somehow, utterly infuriating. It was only the panic within Petra's voice that had drawn the man out of his own bedroom - even though he desperately wished to return to the comfort of his own bed. Her insistence that she was dying prompted a soft sigh upon his lips as Sebastian pointed out that both had truly felt the grip of death. They knew with such accuracy the awfulness of their lives slipping away from this world - as uncomfortable as he was, they most certainly were not dying. It took a moment of consideration before Petra, albeit seemingly reluctantly, agreed that this was quite unlike even her own death. Such moments were ones of distinct...difficulty within a vampire's life - one's own death nothing short of a traumatic event in which their kind often avoided discussing for any great length of time. Those memories, it seemed, lingered upon Petra's mind just as much as they did Sebastian's own, prompting another shudder down his spine. Those thoughts, however, were thankfully pushed aside by the sound of a voice he knew intimately well - his husband.
The navy hue of his irises immediately found the figure of the fae as Dorian approached them. Dorian's finger's brushed up against his skin, the vampire so exceedingly aware of that simple brush of affection. The heat that near radiated from the fae all the more tempting when his very bones felt almost....frozen. With his forehead near pounding and the very pressure upon his face from those irritated sinuses, Sebastian was remarkably inattentive to those polite mannerisms that usually ruled his every social interaction. Thankfully, his lover was altogether keen to pick up where Sebastian had failed, introducing himself to Petra as flawlessly as he always did. An altogether soft apology left his lips, the Prince oblivious of the manner in which Petra's gaze seemed to linger inquisitively upon those subtle touches between the married men. Rather, it was his husband's insistence that he was hot to the touch that caused his brows to furrow. It was utterly....peculiar...how he was capable of feeling both...unusually hot and also frigidly cold at the exact same moment. The very thought seemed to prompt a shiver down his skin, one that hardly went unnoticed by his lover. That glimpse of concern upon Dorian's features only furthered the furrowing of his brows. A soft breath left the vampire's lips before he slowly nodded in agreement to his husband's inquiry. God, Sebastian wanted nothing more than to bury himself beneath a layer of blankets, as if they might be capable of returning the heat to his form.
That veiled inquiry was one Sebastian was even hesitant to acknowledge and yet, Petra was altogether quick to utterly decimate any softened version of the truth he might have attempted to give. A distinctly unimpressed look crossed the vampire's features as his fellow vampire so quickly insisted they looked like death itself. There was a distinct hint of exhaustion to his thickly accented British voice as the Englishman insisted they were both fine. That very word, however, seemed to fail to reassure his husband as, quite unexpectedly, a sneeze assaulted the poor woman in front of him. Instinctually, Dorian seemed to move closer towards him just as the very hallway around them seemed to twist and warp into something else altogether. A soft sound of acknowledgment left the vampire's lips at his husband's comment and yet, his own fingers were gingerly massaging the bridge of his nose as if applying pressure might somehow make the thrum of his head and tension within his sinuses lessen. His navy irises fluttered open as Dorian seemed to cling to his arm, the very sight of Paris prompted the vampire to make some effort to reassure his husband, that power altogether potent even despite their current rather deplorable state. Even so, Sebastian could hardly help that hint of worry that marred his own features at the cough that wracked the woman's altogether slender frame.
The frenzied tone to his lover's voice, accompanied by the increased beating of his husband's heart, clashed angrily with his already pounding headache. "Dorian, please." Sebastian insisted, his own baritone voice decidedly strained before another sneeze tore through Petra's frame - resulting in a chicken...on his hallway floor....pecking at his carpets. Just bloody great. His request to ensure the chicken didn't ruin the floor, however, resulted only in a look between disgruntlement and utter outrage from Petra herself. It was far more then he was capable of dealing with at the present moment, his fingers massaging his temples in pain. That sudden request to lift his arms, however only prompted a baffled glimpse across the Englishman's features before, slowly, he complied with his lover's request, his arms rising enough to reveal the pristine slope of his side. He watched in silence as Dorian seemed to intensely examing his side, the fae circling his figure only to check his opposite side for...well...something. That worry was altogether blatant upon the Monarch's features and slowly Sebastian shook his head. "Love, really, we'll be fine." He insisted, attempting to reassure the King. It was only that soft feminine voice that drew the sapphire hue of his irises towards the young Petra, only to stare with confusion at the tears that traced trails down her pale cheeks. "What? No Petra you're not -- why are you crying, darling?" He inquired, his hand gingerly reaching out for the girl's cheeks as if trying to brush them away before she bent down. Her chicken all but jumped into her arms, providing the woman with that much-needed companionship and reassurance.
It was the sudden loudness to his husband's voice that caused Sebastian to freeze, the Prince wincing at the very column as his head near ached in agony. God, he had forgotten what headache felt like. He hadn't missed this in his death - not one bit. His hand rose, the vampire clearly intending to stop the manservant and yet, Charles had already disappeared down those stairs in search of Elizabeth. Dorian's fingers reached out, brushing against his hand only to take the vampire's palm within his own. Resting on the sofa sounded...lovely, particularly with tea. Slowly, Sebastian nodded in agreement, his own voice unusually meek, "Yes, please." That very suggestion of blankets only furthered that very idea of utter comfort and quickly Sebastian agreed with the sentiment. Perhaps not so much with this idea of their impending death, but most certainly with blankets. "Blankets would be nice...and perhaps we can start a fire." How he desired that warmth! As possessive as the Englishman usually was with his lover, that very illness he felt made the man unusually oblivious to the vampiric woman's interest within the thrumming heart and delectable scent that radiated from his King. It was only those closer steps that drew the weight of his navy irises, the feebleness of her voice only furthering the frown on his features even before that inquiry left Petra's lips.
Sebastian stiffened ever so slightly at the very idea of another vampire's fangs touching his manservant. How diligently he had fostered that loyalty within the were's family line, devoting his attention to each member of the household at a young age whilst ensuring he alone was the only member of his species whose fangs ever graced their skin. "Absolutely not." He responded, that bluntness all together audible even in his present discomfort. "We do always keep blood on hand. Charles will see to it that it's stirred into the tea." Despite his unwillingness to share his staff, the vampire was equally as certain to ensure that the woman within his care did not go without. After all, a starving vampire was a danger that he was unprepared to deal with - not when he wanted little else then bed. "Come along Petra." He muttered with a soft sigh, the vampire more than willing to allow his husband to lead the way downstairs and towards their sitting room.