no_sin_but | (no subject)

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After this:

Marlowe's room is pretty much like most of the others, really. A table and chair, bathroom (with the door shut), double-bed. Perhaps a few more books then most, and perhaps those books are a little more worn and filled with notes, but it is pretty much just a basic room.

Marlowe himself is still asleep, tangled up in the sheets with one arm flung over his eyes...

Well.

Eye and eyepatch.

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"Can you see better or worse?"

Darren has a pretty strong perscription.

"Worse, I think. It's all...sharp, but too sharp and slightly warped." He blinks again and slips them off, handing them over.

"Might work better if I had two eyes, of course. It fucks with things."

"It shouldn't, for these. One day perhaps we'll go bother an optometrist. But from the sounds of things, you're fine."

"I should hope so." Losing his other eye would be worse then losing his hands.

Far, far worse.

"Who knows. They might have something useful to say."

Darren shrugs, and places his glasses back on.

"Reading by candlelight doesn't hurt. Stop it?"

"Something like that."

Darren considers going for his clothes. Instead, stretches languidly and makes himself comfortable again.

"I shall just have to do all my reading here, then."

"Do you go home a lot?"

Darren didn't have the impression it was safe.

"What do you mean by home?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

Pulling the sheet a little higher up and running a hand through his hair.

"London. I haven't been back since I've arrived here."

"Not safe?"

He doesn't imagine it would be.

"London's never been safe. That's part of it's charm. I just don't know what to do."

"I'm settling down in Berlin now. After having been stabbed off my Hamlet."

Bastards.

"I've been asked to do Dracula."

Darren gets a raised eyebrow.

'Dracula, for the Berlin theatre. Do you know what vampires are?"

Mmm, vampires.

"Haven't the faintest idea."

"A vampire is a mythological creature that sucks the blood of a human being to survive past death."

He leans over, rolling onto one elbow.

"Very sexual."

"Sucks.

Blood."

"Argh," says Darren, lowering himself to nip the side of Kit's throat.

He tilts his head back, giving him more of a target.

"Aaaah."

"Word is," murmurs Darren, against the skin, "they hypnotize their victims. Word is, the feelings of euphoria make feeding an intense experience, to say the least."

"Make me immortal with a kiss?" He murmurs, lilting his soft voice up at the end to make it a question.

"Trapped forever between life and death, unable to step into the sunlight. Vampires represent, in the human mind, sexuality. The unknown. The lure of darkness. The consumption, literally, of one's partner. The thrill of giving in to something you know is wrong."

Although what could be wrong about Kit's skin under Darren's mouth, he doesn't know.