Fireflies in Moonlight [boyxboy]

Chapter XV

 ~Sunday 30th May 1694~           -Rammone-

"Why are you shaking?" Rammone broke the silence within the carriage, looking down at the human trembling beside him. An looked as frail as always, perhaps even more so given the clothing that Rammone had fetched for him. Something more than the meagre shirt and slacks he would often wear. An was dressed in shades of azure and sapphire, accented with gold lining along his clothing. His hair was up, tied into that knot that he often wore it atop his head. If Rammone had dared to admit it, he might have found An awfully pretty that night.

"I am nervous," looking up, the gleaming hazel of An's eyes caught a strand of moonlight passing through, bursting forth as pure enstatite. Rammone watched curiously, wondering how that human did it, how he managed to look so phantasmical. Perhaps there was something in his bloodline, something other than the generic DNA his race shared. A strand of shifter, maybe, something to give him that brightness in his eyes that compared to no other. Rammone blinked, trying not to appear as though he might be staring.

"We could turn back, there is still time," without hesitation, An reached up, brushing aside some of Rammone's curls, adjusting their placement on his shoulder. That was commonplace now, this new found confidence that An displayed. Fear was no longer present. Rammone wondered if he should have been irritated by that. Two years ago, he would have. His instincts would have him baring his fangs in a seething hiss, warning the human away from him. Instead, Rammone remained still, allowing An to move around whatever section of his hair didn't appear to be sitting correctly.

"No, no, I would like to see them," An smiled once he had finished, soft and gentle, a passing gesture, before his hands fell back to his lap. He fidgetted with his clothing, pushing and pulling at hems, polishing buttons, plucking off specks of dust that had landed on him. Rammone sat still beside An, unmoving, merely watching. He wondered if it irritated the human, how flawless vampires often looked. Little effort was needed to make them appear appealing. It was in their very DNA, the allure of their being. A thought crossed Rammone's mind, fleeting and nearly missed. Did An think he was alluring?

"But you are afraid?" Another smile, this time fainter, a distant fondness to it. An never stopped looking at Rammone, although his eyes never stopped moving either. Tiny movements, little flickers as his gaze roamed over the vampire's features unabashedly. His skin was like starlight. Rammone felt his own brow furrow at such an observation, and yet he didn't discount it to be anything other than the truth. An was a fallen star, out of time and out of place, lost in the eternal darkness that spread out over the world. Rammone wondered what that made him.

"Time has passed. I do not know what will meet me beyond that door," apprehension bloomed as the carriage rolled to a stop, An's expression growing uneasy. Something in Rammone urged him to reach for the man's hand, resting gently atop in some jilted attempt at comfort. The tips of An's ears turned pink, his eyes darting elsewhere in the carriage, over his shoulder to the door that would be opened for the pair.

"Do you fear one of them might have..." Rammone searched for the right word, coming up blank, "perished?" Humans were so sensitive when it came to death. Rammone couldn't feel the same. Their lives were so short, their love so ephemeral. How could the pain of their loss ever compare to that of his kind? Rammone's people lived lifetimes together, eternities in covens and millenia with mates. How could humans ever believe their mourning might come close to that of an immortal being?

"Yes. But I fear too that they might not recognise me. I am older, I am wiser. I am not the son that left them two years ago," left them. An spoke as if he had choice in the matter, as if he had gone with Rammone willingly. The vampire tried not to react, turning his head to survey the village surrounding them. There was no choice in An's fate, no free will. He shouldn't speak as if there were, as if Rammone was anything other than his captor.