Till Death Do Us Part | Risotto X Male!Reader

8| Next Time

Risotto is ever a curious man, but sometimes wonder can lead you six feet under. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. 

But he can't shake it, the thought of what his ever so gentle captor might look like, and again, if he could ever grow used to this place. Now, he'd already realized the latter to be true, as despite being held prisoner in the manor, he much prefers it to his little cottage in the corner of town. 

But the former, that still racked his brain. The most that had ever been revealed to him beyond the veil of darkness was his lords' eyes. That, and his height, though that was a given. 

So he made a plan. A stupid one at that, but there was really not many other options. 

Pretending to sleep, he waits in the blanket of the night for (Y/n) to sneak inside his chamber and do as he normally does, hoping to catch and reveal what he truly is so his mind could finally be at peace. 

Patiently he lay, head rested again his feather pillow, ears scanning his room for even the slightest of noise. He strains his ears to pick up the hush of the candles going out, to hear the door grind against the wooden floors, but nothing meets his eagerness. 

For a moment, he opens his eyes, simply to look at the window in the farthest reach of the room to entertain himself, but finds all is dark. He did not hear the popping candles still to silence, he did not notice the creaking of the door, or the heavy feet that crept against the floorboards with caution greater than any mouse. 

Before he knew it, those familiar hands found their way into the knots of his hair, combing and sweeping through like a serpent slipping through the underbrush, smooth and unbothered. In an instant, his eyes snap shut again, hoping to not give away his feigned slumber.

His plan goes like this: pretend to sleep, and when (Y/n) comes by, turn the other way and see what he can make out in the darkness. 

And he does just that, flipping to his other side in the same manner one would in their sleep, sluggish and cumbersome. But he plan was bound to fail, for he does not possess eyes like Melone or Illuso, eyes that pierce into the hours of darkness. 

He sees nothing, not a single coat, arm, face, hair, anything. He's unsure why he thought he may have been able to in the first place. Perhaps he'd hoped that the candle on his nightstand would have the strength to withstand whatever spell (Y/n) casts upon his wake. But it is just a candle, just as he is but a man. 

"You're awake." Says a deep, thunderous voice. "Forgive me, I suppose that's my fault."

There's a shyness in his tone, a pinch of guilt in his words that almost makes Risotto wonder if he'd only now built the courage to say something. After all, every other time Risotto supposedly 'awoke' he'd left in an instant.

"No, I've been awake for a while." He reassures, carefully pulling himself to sit upright. "I've been curious, what is it I'm doing here? My purpose?"

"Your purpose?"

"Yes, why I haven't been killed yet. Surely you'll spare me the torment of my own conclusions and tell me?"

"Well, I fear that is not something I wish to tell you."

"You should fear what it is I think; Toying with me, playing chase in the library, making me feel at home in a place I'm meant to loathe. It's like playing with your food."

"You are not my food." (Y/n) said in a sigh.

"Then what am I?"

"I'm not sure. But I promise that if you really were another meal, I would've finished you on your second day."

His words shot a cold shiver down his spine, fear crashing over his nerves in violent waves before the storm settled, and he found himself calm again.  "Then, perhaps I'm food for your friends here?"

"Not that, either. I wouldn't let them touch a hair on your head."

"Why not?

"I simply wouldn't."

"But why? Shouldn't you have a reason?"

Risotto wondered how stupid he looked to the vampire before him, who could most likely see his twisted expression of confusion as clear as day in the curtain of nightfall. Maybe he was amused, watching how his eyes searched endlessly in the void for his own, flicking this way and that.

"Dearest, do you ever need to have a reason to protect something?" (Y/n) said in a breathy laugh. "Lay back down now, Risotto, and get the rest you need. Tomorrow will come soon enough."

"But will you be there?" He asked, leaning back down on his pillow.

"Pardon?"

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

A light chuckle resounded through the air. "No, you will not. As a vampire hunter, I was sure you knew that creatures like me are not fond of the day."

"Then tomorrow night," Risotto suggested. "Will you come see me again?"

"Why such a request?" 

"I find myself enjoying your company, in an odd way. Won't you visit me again?"

"If that is what you'd like, then I have no reason to deny you. I'll see you again tomorrow night." 

The room descends into silence, and Risotto believed he'd found an opening. With movements barely noticeable, he snuck his hand over to the candle on his bedside, a match he saved beneath his pillow being pulled free between his fingers.

But (Y/n) was aware, so very aware and perceptive, something Risotto knew but happened to forget so easily. His hand was stopped, gripped by one much larger, more powerful than his own, and softly tucked beneath the heavy threads of his blanket. 

"So eager to catch a glimpse." He said with a laugh, snatching the match from his other hand. "Maybe next time, yes?"

"...Right. Next time."