milliways_bar | (no subject)

Damian wasn't surprised to find himself alone by the time night fell. Whoever chose to be in Nathaniel's bed near dawn was usually up and about long before he rose with the setting sun.

Now, however, he has taken to the grounds surrounding Milliways... or, more accurately, the skies. Usually he isn't keen on levitating where he can be easily spotted, but the desire to feel the wind in his hair is too much to ignore tonight. It is one thing that reminds him a little of the sea, though the air doesn't have that salty density to it. The sea has been a comforting thought throughout his long existence, even though he hasn't more than glanced it in centuries.

He loses himself in the sensation of flight, letting his mind go blissfully numb for a short while before picking an inviting, sturdy tree and sitting high in the branches so he sways lightly with the pulse of the wind.

Escapism can be a wonderful thing sometimes.

He's botherable by those who can climb well (or don't need to climb in order to reach him). He has no intention of coming down from his perch.

[[ooc: Primarily slowtimes, as the mun has an appointment and a worsening cough... plus homework. Slowtimes welcomed! ^^]]

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Damian stares at Asher's profile for what seems like an eternity. It is not exactly an intense stare, but he lets his eyes linger on the golden-haired vampire, taking in details of the newly restored perfection. As his eyes travel over the other man's face and posture, the wind sways them in the tree-top, back and forth in a gentle arc that reminds him of a boat on the ocean.

A sigh is lost to the wind, and he lowers his barriers for a few moments, trusting Asher to glimpse energetically what he is not sure he wants to articulate verbally. Fear and sadness pulse off of him in a shivering cloud of energy, pouring from his aura into the space between them. His expression may remain impassive, but his eyes gleam with hopelessness, and the energy he allows Asher to feel radiating from him tastes somehow of Anita. She is the source of his turmoil; he just doesn't want to say as much. He doesn't want to wedge more distance between Anita and Asher when she may still bridge the gap between Asher and Jean-Claude.

Any tentative overtures that Anita may have made towards Asher regarding Jean Claude have been sundered rather effectively by her casual dismissal of Asher's suitability for Nathaniel. For her to mistrust him so easily, when she claims to love him, merely proves what Asher has argued; that it is Jean Claude's memories within her, the love he once gave freely to his goldfinch, that she feels now.

"How has she wronged you?" He asks softly, looking out over the trees rather than meet Damian's gaze.

Being free from the penetrating blue of Asher's eyes somehow enables him to loosen his tongue.

The many thoughts that run through his mind all boil down to a single complaint. "She does nothing."

Asher sighs. Anita doesn't understand the obligations of a master, no matter how Jean Claude tries to explain, how obviously Damian suffers without her.

"We can but hope she will learn better," Asher murmurs, moving closer to Damian. Touch is not as soothing, as neccessary to vampires as it is to the lycanthropes of their world, but they are vampires of Belle Morte's line, and as such intimacy of any kind is a comfort.

Damian nods, sadness welling up in him like a great wave at sea, threatening the hull of a carefully constructed ship. He can't trust to hope. He isn't even sure he wishes to. Hoping for others' sakes is easy, but hoping for himself? Best not to raise his expectations.

Asher's movements are slow, so he knows long before it happens that the blond vampire is going to touch him. He manages not to twitch away, because he knows intuitively that the simple press of their sides against one another is closeness given in comfort.

He may not seek more contact, but he does accept what is given. Deep down he knows he craves it, touch not only from Anita but from others who don't have the intention to harm him.

Asher will gladly keep Damian company in silence, should the vampire so wish it. He offers nothing more than the comfort of his side against Damian's, no warmth to pass from one to the other.

He closes his eyes, tilting his head back, the movement uncannily like a human soaking up the sun. But the moon is their only companion, and it is the night breeze teasing at his hair that makes Asher sigh in satisfaction.

That same night breeze causes the tree to shift and rock gently, and that motion sings to Damian's heart-sore spirit. There may not be warmth shared by their simple proximity, but it serves to remind him of a very important fact...

In this moment, he is not alone. And, all things considered, sharing the breeze and moonlight with a silent friend isn't a bad thing.

His own sigh joins Asher's, and despite his sadness, he is grateful for the moment of companionship.

Not a bad thing at all.

[[ooc: Fade there, I think. *smiles* Thanks for the slowtime. ^_-]]