When Night Comes

2. 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓬𝓮.

The meeting was the first, but it certainly wouldn't be their last. Dorian soon took the habit of observing the girl as well as, occasionally, her family. (Y/n) was eleven. A young human girl living with her parents. They were peasants, selling whatever they were able to grow and pick to the village nearby. Barely enough for them to sustain themselves, he noted with distaste.

A few days later, Dorian ventured into the woods once more, seeking out the same clearing where he had first encountered the girl. She was slumped against the bark of an old oak tree in the same clearing he had found her the first time. Her breathing in small puffs as she was dozing off from a long day of work. It seemed like she did that often. Working all day, then taking a break because of the hard labor.

Her dark lashes brushed gently against her rosy cheeks, and her mouth lay slightly ajar, allowing soft snores to escape her lips. A carpet of orange and yellow dead leaves encircled her, the tranquility of the scene evoking imagery from the tales of old faeries. Dorian, captivated by the idyllic tableau before him, lightly tapped her shoulder, his charming smile already in preparation. She stirred, mumbling in her half-slumber. A subtle quirk tugged at the corner of Dorian's mouth, genuinely amused by her innocence.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she immediately registered his presence, her eyes widening with recognition. In a swift motion, she leaped to her feet, now fully alert.

"We meet each other again," Dorian greeted with a honeyed tone, his voice a velvety caress of words.

The girl nodded before looking down at her sabots. She made to take her basket, but he took it before her, taking a look at the content of it. The basket overflowed with an assortment of forest berries, some of them notably scarce in this region. Moreover, the approach of winter only added to the value of her find. The girl must have spent a grueling day gathering these treasures, and Dorian frowned at the thought of her laboring so exhaustively.

"Such an arduous task," he commented. "For such a young lady."

She shrugged. "It's not that hard, really," she defended, gaining more confidence. "I'm used to it. I just pick anything that can be sold depending on the season." She pointed at her basket. "These are probably the last berries of the season, for example. But carrots are so tasty during this season, so I'll soon help my mom pick them from the garden." Her words flowed more freely now, a testament to her growing comfort and expertise. "We'll make jam with the berries to prepare for winter," she also added before continuing to ramble about random facts about vegetables and fruits.

As she spoke, (Y/n) exhibited clear confidence and a deep passion for the subject at hand. She was eager to share her knowledge with anyone willing to listen. Her eyes glimmered as she spoke, and she gestured animatedly, her words flowing in a rapid, uninterrupted stream.

Dorian listened with genuine interest, nodding occasionally in response. He found himself entertained by this young human, her innocence and zeal proving to be genuinely endearing. Unbeknownst to him, he couldn't help but smile fondly at the charming, talkative mortal who had become an unexpected and captivating presence in his timeless existence.

As their encounters became more frequent, the young girl would remember the necessity of returning to her modest cottage, and once again, Dorian escorted her back to the little shack she called home. Observing her enter the residence, his brows furrowed, an expression of silent contemplation etched upon his aristocratic features. He departed not long after, for a man had unknowingly walked into the path of the vampire, presenting himself as a perfect meal for Dorian's insatiable hunger.

Their meetings became almost routine, taking place under the same conditions each time. (Y/n) would be found in the tranquil clearing, having completed a demanding day's labor, while Dorian would appear to engage in conversation as though he hadn't been silently observing her for at least an hour prior. There was just something about (Y/n) he couldn't shake off. She just was... there was an invigorating aspect to her presence that resonated within him.

This unfamiliar sensation was exhilarating, stirring emotions within Dorian's cold, long-dead heart that had lain dormant for centuries. In her presence, it began to thaw and pulse again, brought to life by the presence of this captivating girl. She was a delightful person to be around, the kind he yearned to spend more time with.

"What is your name, sir ?" She had suddenly asked one day.

Dorian's eyebrows raised in realization, recognizing he had never once introduced himself. "How careless of me," he admitted, feeling a sense of negligence. "I am Duke Dorian de Beauvoir."

Her eyes widened. "A duke ?" She repeated. "I knew you were rich, but I didn't know you were a duke, sir. You must be very rich," she mused, her youthful pondering causing her forehead to furrow. "Mom and dad say nobles aren't good people. Too selfish."

Frustration crinkled his eyes as his lips pursed. "This is false," objected the man. "I am not selfish." He paused before continuing, his words slipping out almost of their own volition,  "I would willingly invite you to my estate, child."

A quizzical tilt of her head was her response, and Dorian found himself surprised by his own offer.

"You work a lot at such a young age, dear," he explained himself while giving her a grave look. "Would you not like to rest ? I reside in a lavish manor, I am sure you would feel comfortable in it."

(Y/n) shook her head from side to side. "I don't work that much. I know some people my age that are doing the same thing. We're just helping the family."

His nose wrinkled in distaste. "Young children should be pampered, not forced to work," he said.

Her sigh of frustration was palpable as she crossed her arms, countering his viewpoint with a steadfast resolve "This rule only applies to nobles, sir," the human argued as though it were the most obvious of truths. "Besides, I have to help my parents."

And thus, the conversation concluded, leaving a lingering impression in Dorian's mind, like so many other interactions with the child.

Vampires were, in popular belief, monsters – unfeeling, selfish, and cunning beings who pursued their desires relentlessly. When they set their sights on a goal, nothing could deter them. An idea was beginning to take shape in Dorian's mind.

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𝐻𝒾, 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓈𝑜 𝒻𝒶𝓇. 𝐼'𝓋𝑒 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝒹 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝐼 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓃𝒿𝑜𝓎𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉. 𝐼𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝟤𝟤 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝑜𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀.