Vampire Residence

IV

"Sybil, have you seen Garrett anywhere?" Eleanor called through the main foyer. As she passed through the hall, she quickly glanced over at Sybil and Dorothea, who were both sitting at the dining table.

"No, but he's probably in his room." Sybil was quick to answer, peering over what seemed to be a fashion magazine.

William and Jarosława were both sitting in armchairs at the other end of the room, doing their things.

Eleanor quickly crossed the first floor and knocked against the familiar's bedroom door with three quick raps, pausing a few seconds before speaking. "Garrett, are you in there?"

Silence, at first, and then-

"Oh, for the love of... Yeah, I'm in here! Come in, just don't come in here all dramatic and throw the door open!"

"I wasn't going to," she huffed.

She pushed the door open and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her as she glanced around at the room.

"Are you decent, at least?"

"Yes, I am decent," came Garrett's reply, followed by a few thumps of what sounded like furniture being moved.

He shuffled into view from behind a row of mannequins, struggling to balance a box full of fabrics in his arms.

"Why, did you think you were going to find me parading around naked in here?"

"More or less," she replied bluntly as she took a seat on the corner of Garrett's bed.

"I see your trust issues remain as strong as ever," he said pointedly as he carefully set the box down on the floor.

"There's no need to look so worried, I wasn't naked. I do have class, you know..."

"Mmm. Debatable."

She let out a low hum, still watching him as he knelt to start sorting through the pile of fabric scraps in the box.

"So... Is there a reason you've come bursting into my room uninvited?"

Garrett pulled out a few pieces of fabric, holding some of them up against each other to compare them.

"Actually, yes, there was."

Eleanor reached down, pulling a pair of stockings out of her bag. They were quite torn and ragged, with the lace ripped all up the backs.

She held them up, giving them a little wave.

"Care to explain these?"

Garrett was silent for a few seconds, staring at the mangled stockings.

Then, he let out a sigh. "I swear I tried to be more careful about how much lace trim I put on those."

"Yeah. You tried so hard," she answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"What on earth is going on in your head, when I tell you to stop putting so much lace on them, you do it anyway?"

"I don't know, I guess... I just thought it would look nice. Y'know. A bit of extra flair," he answered sheepishly. "I swear, I'll do better with my next pair. Just... cut me some slack, yeah?"

"I've cut you slack more times than I can count, you little bastard. This has to stop."

Eleanor tossed the stockings into the waste bin on the other side of the room. "No more lace. None, not a single inch. I mean it this time."

Garrett let out a dramatic sigh, throwing up his hands. "Okay, fine! Fine. No more lace, I swear. You won't see a single bit of it on the next pair I make. Happy?"

"I'll be happy when I no longer have to deal with finding holes in my stockings every other night," she answered bluntly.

Silence, for just a second, before she spoke again. "You do know I'm not going to burn your entire closet, right?"

"Oh, yes, I know." He let out a chuckle, already digging through the box to pull out a few more pieces of fabric. "You could never bring yourself to destroy anything that's Chanel."

"Yes, well, I do have a weak spot for Chanel," she relented with a grumble.

She got up from the bed, taking a few steps to glance at the collection of fabric pieces Garrett was sorting through.

"What are you working on, then?" she asked, watching as he pulled out an assortment of different shades and patterns.

"Or are these all just scraps?"

He shifted through the pile of colorful fabric, pulling out a few more pieces: a bright royal blue fabric, and a rich purple.

"And this one, the blue, that's for Dorothea, she's been complaining that some of her nightgowns are too loose, so I said I'd tighten the waist on them-"

He gestured to the purple fabric, which looked to be a deep, velvet purple. "This one I'm going to use for... For you. You'd look nice with a velvet dress."

That caught her attention immediately.

"For me?" She was silent for a few seconds, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him. "You said you wouldn't make me anything else for months after the last time I critiqued you. What, are you going soft on me, or something?"

Eleanor's expression immediately soured, her eyebrow still raised in skeptical curiosity.

"Ah, of course. It was Daci's idea. Should've known."

"Yeah, yeah. She was going on about how I need to be more "festive" and "holiday spirit!" and "make her wife a nice holiday dress!" He gave an over-the-top rendition of Daci, doing his best impression of her thick accent.

Eleanor couldn't help but let out a laugh- she chuckled softly as she watched Garrett dramatically impersonating Daci. Even after all these years, she still found immense humor in Garrett's impressions of Daci's foreign accent.

"Well, you know she's always so... excitable, this time of year." She let out a resigned sigh.

"She's always excitable. You know her, she's always excited for some sort of reason," Garrett answered, finally sitting back from the pile of fabric.

"Especially when it comes to you."