The Beast in Man (Vampires in Berlin: Book One)

The Beast in Man Part 6

The following day, Richard didn't put in an appearance until darkness had almost fallen; Paul had checked in on him several times throughout the day, to make sure that his partner was alright yet, whilst Richard had looked pale and felt cold to the touch, he looked in a healthy enough state for Paul to not worry immediately. That evening, however, when the rest of the band sat down to eat their evening meal, Richard deigned to join them, preferring to keep out of the way on the porch, watching the snow falling whilst smoking a seemingly endless parade of cigarettes.

"Is Richard alright?" Olli asked, as he stared in the direction of where the porch was situated.

Whilst they could not see Richard himself through the window, they could see the occasional puff of smoke, marking out where the guitarist stood.

"He said he was," Paul said, with a shrug, yet he did not bother to hide his disturbed concern regarding his lover.

"He hasn't eaten so much as a bean all day," Schneider observed from around a mouthful of sweetcorn. "You have to admit that that isn't normal."

"Perhaps I should call the doctor," Paul's voice trailed off at the tail-end of his own thought.

"Too late; they won't come out to us now, unless it was an extreme emergency," Schneider pointed out, with a snort.

"We can always break one of his legs or something," Till mused. "Or an arm. That's an emergency! We can't have a guitarist with a broken arm."

"Fucking hell, Till," Paul said, in disgust.

"What?" Till replied, with feigned innocence tuning his eyes wide, yet he smiled.

"You're talking about breaking your own guitarist's arm, regardless of the fact that he is my partner, and you're just sitting there like it's nothing so serious as blowing your damned nose," Paul said.

"You wanted to help him, so I'm helping," Till pointed out.

"By breaking his fucking arm," Paul said. "I'd hate to see what you'd do to someone who wasn't supposed to be your friend or band-mate."

"I'd break both arms and both legs, in that case," Till said, mildly before cramming a mouthful of sausage between his lips.

"Jesus," Flake muttered, as he shook his head at Till before he transferred his gaze to Paul. "If he's no better in the morning, call the doctor then. Or better still, run him into town if they won't come out to us. We are a bit off the beaten track out here."

"Perhaps I'll do that. Thanks, Flake," Paul said, with a nod in Flake's direction.

"Oh, so you'll accept Flake's help, when you won't accept mine," Till said, with a grin around his sausage.

"Flake is sensible, Till; you are not," Schneider pointed out before Paul could.

Paul nodded and laughed in Schneider's direction, even as Richard wandered in from outside, cheeks looking pinched and reddened with the cold.

"I'm not going to the doctor's," he said, as he shrugged out of his coat to hang it on a peg by the door.

"How the hell did you hear that all the way out there?" Flake asked. "We weren't talking that loudly."

"You were," Richard objected. "I could hear every damn word you spoke."

"Jesus, you must have the hearing of a bat or something," Schneider said, in surprise. "Fucking sonar hearing."

From Olli's seat came the low hum of the Batman theme tune and even Richard managed to laugh amidst the chuckles that broke out around the table.

"Are you actually going to eat something now?" Paul asked, as he reached for Richard's hand when the other man passed him.