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The room was quiet, as always.
Behind the velvety curtains and gilded doors, two figures were having a casual meeting. Non-official.
Probably unnoticed by most inhabitants of the royal palace. And hidden from the rest of the capital of the Endable Kingdom.
The Kingdom gathering dark races.
Gathering all the darkness of this world.
As Fredo was taking in the White Star’s figure, he thought such a man suited the position of the King of such a place perfectly.
His fangs sank deeper, and his hand gently pulled away the jar of apples his liege was used to consume during each of their strategy meetings to move closer on the couch.
The White Star had always been eating them. He had the first time they had encountered. The first time they had officially started this strange kind of alliance. The first time the White Star had lied to him, telling him his people would be safe in this odd place with such a prophetic name. Endable.
Just as his partnership with the White Star.
The White Star always had those apples around. Fredo had then figured out his liege didn't feel hunger nor appetite. And would probably die out of starvation without them around to be reminded his body needed food to properly function.
Secrets were easily digged out whenever it came to this hellhole - to those power-hungry, cunning people Fredo had soon gotten acquaintanced with. Even someone as powerful as the White Star couldn't keep all of the keys to all those mysteries to himself; such a secretive man had so many of them, some needed to be founded in order to shelter the most important ones away from anyone else. The White Star's peculiar body balance wasn't difficult to notice for strong individuals. And it was definitely not one of the King's most guarded secret either.
Those apples were contributing to the White Star's survival. And Fredo took pleasure in settling them away for a moment.
Those bright, red and tasteless looking apples.
Fredo wondered if they were the one that had given the White Star’s blood such a sickening taste.
Should he blame them for his current predicament ?
Probably not.
He grinned against the other’s neck.
The blood wasn’t warm and velvety like those Fredo was used to getting. It scorched his tongue and burnt his gums. The gentle caress of the liquid sliding down his throat felt harsh and rough.
He still swallowed everything up, letting his fangs linger on the reddened skin longer.
The sensation made him grin against the White Star’s neck - and that not so subtle twitch of his mouth made his bite dig deeper inside his liege’s already bruised neck.
The White Star didn’t react. He didn’t show any sign of pain, nor the slightliest hunt of pleasure. Fredo even wondered if the man sensed the slow draining of his blood.
It was like biting a rock. One with a burning gaze, and murderous powers.
He didn’t mind.
What he did mind though was the tone the White Star had used as he had allowed him to bite him.
‘Just do as you please.’
Dismissive. Rude. And exciting.
It was the first time Fredo felt like being granted the right to bite someone. Of course it had to be this man - Fredo was convinced no one else held so much power they could afford doing so. How arrogant.
The White Star was letting him bite his neck, and drink his blood. He’d attack him as soon as he’d deem it troublesome or annoying. As soon as he’d no longer feel like indulging the Duke’s oddities.
Fredo wasn't sure if he disliked it or not.
Fredo wasn’t sure if he felt like drinking this bastard dry or vomit all the intoxicating blood that his stomach had welcomed.
Fredo wasn’t sure if he despised or adored this taste.
But Fredo was certain his interest for the White Star had only increased as soon as his lips landed on the porcelain skin of his neck - as soon as his boiling blood dried on his tongue and left a sandy aftertaste in his mouth.
He had known already that this ‘human’ was different. That this ‘human’ was intriguing.
But this. This was beyond any expectation Fredo ever held.
“You’re fascinating.” He breathed against the bloody wound his fangs had left. And Fredo felt the White Star’s hand clench his hair harder; and harshly pulled his head farther away from his neck.
“Enough.” This monotonous, sharp tone hadn’t changed since the man had given his agreement to this little act. The White Star’s breath wasn’t short. His pale cheeks weren’t heating up under his immaculate mask. And his gaze didn’t look misty or unfocused.
It was as if Fredo’s bite hadn’t moved this bastard the slightest.
The vampire almost scoffed. During his young years, he could have felt offended to see little to no reaction shaking his prey. But now…
It just made it even more interesting.
“I didn’t think our Liege would indulge my request” It was fishy. “Not so easily.”
‘Nor for so long.’ Fredo had almost lost the sense of time. But he knew he had drank more than he should have - and that any regular human body would have already been emptied of all its blood by now.
The White Star’s pulse hadn’t subsided the slightest.
The King’s piercing eyes remained on Fredo’s face longer. It was as if the White Star was trying to pierce holes through his head with his gaze only.
It felt like he would have managed if Fredo wasn’t so strong. Or if Fredo wasn’t so useful to him. Maybe he’d have killed him on the spot ?
The vampire bit down the inside of his lower lip.
“I hoped my blood would poison you.” The White Star’s voice was as scorching as his gaze was icy when he spoke again. Fredo could feel it warming up the pit of his stomach and freezing his chest.
His lips curled up in yet another grin. It definitely was entertaining.
“It felt like biting into a rotten apple.” In spite of his usual playfulness staining his voice, the light-hearted tone didn’t fool any of them. Not when Fredo’s piercing eyes remained on his ‘liege’s’ face, mirroring the faint gleam of the dull candlelight.
“There’s hope then.” The White Star’s hands tilted his head back up. The touch wasn’t kind, it wasn’t gentle either. And as their eyes leveled, the corner of his lips cracked into his first smirk of the night. Subtle and unwelcoming. Devilish, almost. It didn’t warm up his face at all. Fredo felt laughed at. “For the poison, that is.”
“His Majesty underestimates my body. I'm afraid that the amount I took isn’t enough to make my inside decay.”
Hearing this, the man’s pupils lit up. Maybe with interest, hunger or hatred. Fredo felt like he would never know.
And felt like he didn’t care either.
“Greedy bastard. How much do you need to finally die ?”
“I think drinking you dry would be enough.” The White Star snorted. A humourless snicker.
“Do you think I didn’t notice the face you were pulling? Is the taste so disgusting ?”
“It’s horrid. It fits His Majesty well.”
“Maybe I should have you try to drink more next time, then.”
“With pleasure.” As the White Star leaned forward, Fredo felt his lips already parting. The clashing between their two months wasn’t gentle either. Just like each of the White Star’s touch or word. But the Duke still felt a shiver run down his spine. He couldn’t help it as he was taking in the lack of reactions his liege had.
Whether it was when the space between them disappeared, or when Fredo’s fangs slit open his lower lips. And yet, the White Star’s hands were still pulling him closer. Making him sink deeper in the couch.
Making him sink deeper in those intoxicating darknesses surrounding him.
Fascinating.
The White Star was fascinating.
And Fredo just let him do so.
As he felt his hair being pulled out of his velvety ribbon, he heard the White Star’s hand land on the table. And make the jar of apples fall over.
They rolled on the carpeted flor. And the soft sounds they made as they hit the feet of the expensive armchairs and coffee table around the guest room were promptly ignored.