AUGUST • C.CULLEN

two

AUGUST
1663, LONDON

The human's screams are muffled by the thick fabric of his coat. August had stuffed it into his mouth to keep him quiet when foot traffic outside the potato cellar grew too close for comfort.

He's no longer naked, now dressed in a loose deep green tunic and black pants, both secured to his body with a thick belt. All of this he had found in the corner opposite the human's writhing body and had slipped it on quickly.

He didn't seem to be comfortable seeing August without clothes.

August sits on a crate of potatoes, staring intently at the man, his knees pulled to his chest. Despite his towering figure of six foot three - Great Grandpa Elm had been proud of his stature, claiming that August would make a great, sturdy tree one day - August prefers to hide as much as he can. He doesn't want to scare anyone, if he can help it. It's not in his nature.

The trees comfort him, whispering in his ears even from afar, He needs rest, they say, but he will be fine. He will wake up and be a vampire, one day, and that is when you shall save him.

August doesn't respond, simply humming softly to himself as he twirls Elkin's leaf in his hand. As the blond man writhes, twisting and turning, August tucks his leaf into his curls and kneels at his side. He tears some of his shirt off and dips it into the small bowl of clean water he had collected, gently dabbing it onto the human's sweaty head.

His writhing calms beneath August's gentle touch and the Nymph smooths back a strand of his blond hair which had fallen in front of his eyes. August hums softly to the man in the tune of one of Elkin's lullaby's, smiling gently as his blue eyes flutter shut during August's gentle humming.

—

The blond man wakes three days later. August had long since removed the coat from his mouth, having noticed he had stopped screaming. When his eyes flutter open they're blood red in colour, and August finds himself missing the cool blue colour that he enjoyed looking into as he cared for him.

He sits up with a gasp and August is at his side in a flash, gently easing him. His red eyes scan the room, taking in the details, before they land on August's.

"You."

—

Carlisle's heart twists when he meets the stranger's deep green eyes. A soft smile pulls at his lips subconsciously and he relaxes in the man's arms.

"You." He breathes, smiling softly, "Hello."

The man smiles gently at him, stroking his cheek before pulling away and taking a seat on a potato crate not far from him.

Carlisle watches him, longing for him to still be by his side. "Tell me your name?" He asks, "Please?"

The brunette man furrows his brow, then smiles. With his finger, he draws in the dirt on the ground. A-U-G-U-S-T.

"August?" Carlisle reads. His eyes flicker to the man across from him, August, who smiles cheerily and gives a little wave. Carlisle grins, "Hello, August. Nice to meet you," He says, "I'm Carlisle."

August nods to him, and he furrows his brow questioningly, "Why don't you talk?"

August sits on the floor and drags his finger through the dirt again. "'Won't understand'? You can't speak English?" August nods.