Princes of the Undead

Part 23

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Agatha knew she was being a coward. She had dumped a significant traumatic event on Dracula, and then ran away, before he even had time to process it. She had let him in, only to push him away again, and perhaps it would serve her right, if he really did decide Isabella would be much less trouble. Yet she couldn't allow herself to fall back to asleep, too afraid to continue that conversation, and have it confirmed that he agreed with her after all. If she didn't sleep, and they didn't talk, then Agatha could pretend nothing had changed.

That she hadn't admitted she loved him, and then forced him into the arms of another woman. Honestly Agatha wasn't sure what had possessed her to do either, she had panicked, and pushing him away seemed the safest thing to do at the time, but was it the right thing? Wouldn't she live to regret it? Could she really live the rest of eternity and watch him marry and raise a family with another woman? The very idea turned her stomach, but she couldn't be that selfish, couldn't claim him for herself and deny him the family he wanted.

Yet knowing Dracula, Agatha doubted he would let either thing simply be, he wouldn't be dictated to by her. If he wanted to marry Isabella he would do so, with or without her blessing, and if he didn't want to, then even Agatha's pushing wouldn't make him. Agatha also knew that he wouldn't simply let her pathetic declaration of love be forgotten either. She hadn't meant to blurt it out like she did, Agatha hadn't even realised she had said it until she had gotten back to her flat and played back their conversation.

It had been clumsy, and Agatha couldn't think of it now without shame. It was not how she had ever envisioned that conversation going. If Dracula ever asked her if she had meant it, Agatha knew she couldn't lie to him, not even to save face and pride. She did love him, as rotten as he was, and he was a complete arse at least 80% of the time. Still he was her arse...or was he now Isabella's? The not knowing was going to drive her insane...

The tapping sound at her window distracted Agatha from her inward spiral, and she frowned as it stopped then started again. A rhythm far too regular to be coincidence, and far too creative to be mechanical, which only left one possible culprit; unless her nesting pigeons had leant to tap out a four time beat.

Going to the window, Agatha pulled aside the curtains, honestly not surprised to find a certain dark-haired nuisance hanging off the window ledge. For a moment Agatha considered closing the curtains again, but then he pouted and gave her those pathetic puppy dog eyes, and before she knew it she was loosening the sash bolt and pushing the window up.

"Thank you, there was a most uncomfortable draft." Dracula sighed as he pulled himself up to sit on the ledge. "I am assuming I am being invited inside?"

"Still not overcome that habit yet?"

Nodding his head, Dracula shrugged. "I'm working on it, but it is at least good manners to ask."

"You can come in." Agatha added, just as much for her benefit as his. This was something she was choosing to do, no more running from this conversation, or from him.

"Good, I really wouldn't want to be caught up here. There are a surprising number of people lurking about considering the hour." Dracula huffed as he swung his legs over the ledge, and stepped into the room, closing the drafty window behind him.

Finally getting a proper look at Agatha, her eyes red and puffy from crying, Dracula considered all the things he wanted to say, and all the questions he wanted answers to. Suddenly they didn't seem quite as pressing, instead he opened his arms and gestured her towards him, his hands making little come-hither movements.

For a moment Agatha paused, glancing up at his face, gauging whether she was truly welcome, his patient calmness reassuring her that she was. She all but fell into his arms, the tears she thought all spent, brimming once more, as she buried her face into his neck.