There was a pregnant moment of silence between the four men. Lord Price and Alabaster Stone had locked gazes with the same intensity as two bucks locking antlers, Simon was staring at the vampire with a gaze that begged him not to do anything stupid and the jolly, arguably senile Lord Pattimond was looking from one of them to the other with a big smile on his face. The old noble was blissfully ignorant over the territorial dispute going on right under his nose; how Simon envied him.
Finally, Lord Price had his fill of their staring contest and sought to size up his opponent. The noble looked the vampire up and down with growing disdain, believing him to be nothing more than a part of the common rabble; an elf who held no social standing. It was a myth Alabaster was content to let the other man keep believing. In fact, the vampire noble only gave a disarming smile, playing his part seamlessly.
"I do believe we have some waist coats fit for a king that would match the regality of your eyes, just over here, sir."
"Oh?" Price said, raising his eyebrows at the possibilities, "Do lead the way!"
Simon blinked in surprise as Lord Price followed the man he had just given a death glare to, as if the whole thing had simply been one big misunderstanding. The vampire glanced over his shoulder to give Simon a grin and a discreet wink, snapping him out of his state of shock as realization washed over him.
'Alabaster, you sly fox!'
In appealing to the nobleman's vanity and pride, he had provided the perfect distraction! Of course, that didn't mean that there was no fee for this savvy move. The vampire had no choice, but to cater to the pompous windbag's whims and listen to his obnoxious prattling to get the desired response; a cost the tailor was ever so grateful he paid.
"Your sacrifice won't be in vain." Simon muttered with the same serious as watching a fellow soldier go down in the heat of battle.
"What sacrifice, dear boy?"
Simon startled out of his musings with a jolt at the Lord Pattimond's inquiry; he had forgotten the elder nobleman was even there!
"Oh! Um.. That your son nobly sacrificed the riveting conversation we were having to go look at my wares! He obviously enjoys the finer things in life!"
"Ah, yes, my son does have good taste! Now, I know that I'm a tad late to the party, but would you happen to have any overcoats in my size?"
"Yes, of course, Lord Pattimond. Right this way, my Lordship."
Gleefully feeling that he had gotten away with murder, the tailor went about his day, with a new pep in his step and a gleam in his eye. It wasn't often that he felt lucky. But, there was just something about today; or SOMEONE, perhaps. Alabaster gave him a warm smile from over a rack, making Simon's cheeks light up, as if catching them on fire.
The tailor tended to be very reserved. A real stick in the mud when it came to his own feelings, always taking the road less traveled of propriety and sobriety. His youth had allowed him to see the opposite up close and personal and it was never pretty where that path lead; drunkards staggering about on the street, girls as young as thirteen carrying what was surely unplanned and unwanted burdens in their bellies and children huddling up together in alleyways with gaunt faces and knobby ribs, begging for any kind of help from the adults around them; usually they received none.
So, he had promised himself that when he grew up, he would leave all of that behind. He would find an apprenticeship somewhere and become a fine gentleman, who eschewed emotional entanglements and carnal pleasures in exchange for order and beauty. He would sacrifice the very thing that made him human if it meant never returning to that Hell on Earth.
The trade off, of course, meant that he was emotionally stunted; a fact that Simon Hart was well aware of. He kept his heart walled off, patrolling the gates, uncompromisingly keeping everyone out. Still, he found that Alabaster Stone had the curious power to plow through those fortifications he had built up over the years with something as simple as a smile. What was it about this man?
He shook his head to rattle those useless thoughts loose. Now was not the time to ponder such frivolous things! Not when the Ode to Maria was fit to bursting with patrons who had piles of Asters to spare! He would have to think on this later, deep in the night, when the only sounds left were of the barn owls nesting in the wood mill's belfry next door and the drunken hymns of a few gentlemen who were too sloshed to get up to no good, ambling down the deserted Bellany Avenue. Yes, he would think of what these thoughts meant in the stillness and the solitude of the dark; if he dared.
As time ticked by, the sun finally set in the distance. The crowds got less and less, until the wooden clock on the wall chimed out ten loud, strong bongs, giving the tailor the signal he was waiting for. It was finally time to close the Ode to Maria! Deft hands flew to the lock, bolting the door, before their owner turned to present his makeshift helper with a rare smile. Alabaster returned it, before the two of them launched forward clasping together a set of hands in a show of victory, almost as if the two of them had been teamed up for a sporting event and had won against all odds!
"I must say, that was invigorating!" Alabaster remarked, still trembling with energy and excitement left over from the day.
"Oh?" Simon asked, still a little breathless, "If that's the case, would you like to do it again, every day?"
He was trying for a comical threat. But, he had to blink twice in shock as the vampire managed to turn it back around on him in a way most unexpected.
"Simon," the mysterious entity said softly with a raised eyebrow, "Is that a proposal I hear?"
The tailor blushed from head to toe as he realized what he had just implied, turning his back on the nobleman, as he straightened his hat, trying desperately to distract himself. But, Alabaster was not willing to let this go. Not when the other man looked cute enough to eat. He took a step behind Simon, hugging him fondly as he whispered what was the equivalent to sweet nothings into the human's ear; or at least, that's the way it sounded to a man as lonely as Simon Hart.
"Are you saying that you wish to see me everyday? That we could eat together, work together.. Wake up, together-"
That last one caused the human's cheeks to burn, prompting him to elbow the vampire royal in his rib cage, before whipping around to scold the other man.
"O-Of course not! Don't be absurd!"
"Absurd? I was going for romantic."
"I-I care not! Now, get back to the castle! Before your brother realizes that you're gone! Perhaps YOU have a poor memory, but I have an excellent one and I can vividly recall just what he did the last time you went missing! He held a knife to my throat, thinking that I abducted you or some other such nonsense!"
"In a way, you did. I fear that you've abducted my heart-"
"OUT!"
"Are you really dismissing me? Pity. I would have liked to stay the night. But, I can understand if you desire solitude. It was quite the busy day, after all."
"Y-Yes, it was. Quite. I am exhausted and require time to myself. So, I bid you farewell, Alabaster Stone."
"Yes. Farewell, dear tailor. Until next time."
That statement would have sounded ominous coming from anyone else. Why, then, did it make Simon long to retract his statement? Why did it make him want to reach out and catch the taller man's sleeve, forcing him to stay? But, he could do nothing of the sort. All he could do was watch himself stay frozen to the spot as the vampire walked out the door, phasing into the darkness, as if swallowed up by it, disappearing from his sight.
Simon bit his bottom lip in regret, as he dead-bolted the door, once again. Silence was his once more. One upon a time, he might have thought that to be grand. Instead, there was a deeply-seated ache welling up in the pit of his stomach from it now; loneliness.
"Damn you," the human muttered with a shake of his head, "Why did you have to do this to me?"
What the vampire did, the human wasn't even quite sure. All he knew was that he missed him already and that this wasn't at all his default state; not at all healthy. This was a man from the very species that he had vowed to hate to his dying day! A man from the race that had taken everything from him! But, even as he tried to summon the usual vitriol he had in his heart toward these creatures, he came up empty. Because it was impossible to hold a grudge; to hold hatred in his heart for Alabaster Stone.
Shuttering the shades, Simon began his usual ritual of tidying up the shop floor, before calling it quits. He would draw himself a nice, hot bath and forget all about these feelings. Some left over soup from the night before and some sourdough bread for his dinner wouldn't go a miss. And of course, there was always that new book he had purchased from the street vendor a few weeks ago. It had been pricey, as most novels were, but he had been reading it a chapter at a time, savoring the words slowly to make it last; to make the purchase worth every Aster. Perhaps he would crack it open for the perfect distraction from his own troubles.
"Yes, that sounds like a plan."
However, little did he realize how quickly plans could be derailed. One of the dressing room doors slowly cracked open, revealing a single, greedy eye. The owner of it had a gaze filled to the brim with want as he spied the tailor lustily from a distance. One man wanted solitude for the evening. The other wanted a warm body under him, obediently giving what he felt he deserved. Only one of them was bound to get what they wanted. If the angels wept for the innocent, they would surely be crying for the plight of the unlucky Simon Hart.