What Makes a Monster

♱Thirty-Eight♱

Wallie P.O.V.

I have a problem; one that cannot be solved easily with avoidance or even playing pretend.

I like Soran. Not Lord Makai, the so called evil vampire that rules over his estate with an iron fist. No, I like Soran; the sometimes moody, sometimes a little evil, but sometimes funny and kind and considerate and sweet man that happens to be a lord. Happens to be my lord, which only worsens the situation.

Thinking I may like Soran and knowing I like him are two completely different animals. One has the possibility of easily ignoring and moving on. The other cannot be ignored even when I try because just seeing Soran—shit, I mean—Lord Makai, makes my heart do "the flutter."

You know, when your heart forgets that it's primary function is to pump blood because it's too busy focusing on every little thing the person you like does then it does the le skippity skip?

Like how Soran blinks rapidly when something confuses or baffles him; somehow my heart screams, that's fucking adorable!

Or how he sits when bored, head tilted and resting atop his hand with half mast eyes, like he's doing everything he can not to fall asleep. But he never yawns, only wiggles his nose or taps his fingers, neither of which I think he's aware that he does yet, again, my heart goes, ding, ding, ding, he's doing the thing! Isn't it great?!

No, it's not great. Stop it!

Or when he sits for too long then waits until he believes no one is watching before stretching his arms high above his head, turning his wrists this way and that while his eyes squint into smiles. Then he reverts back to serious mode like nothing even happened and, oh boy, the flutter could put out a wildfire (or make it worse) when he does that.

And how weird is it that I'm noticing all this? Have I become some sort of obsessive freak? Or, let's be honest, am I waiting and hoping for a sign that these feelings are mutual? I want them to be. But then I don't want them to be. Confliction, hello, how are you?

So I am eternally grateful (I think) that Layne is at Soran's side far more than I am, even if I've noticed Sor—damn it, Lord Makai!—has put more distance between us. It is clear there is some avoidance going on, which is fine because I am desperately trying to avoid him as well (even if, again, doesn't really help my feelings.)

Seeing him in the hall or tending to him in the office always has my mind going blank. When he looks at me, I remember the light blush under his eyes from a mere nine days ago. Remembering that blush has me blushing, which he has to notice. Sometimes his eyes widen. Sometimes he freezes. But he never says anything, nor do I, and I practically bolt the moment I can in hopes to focus on work, anything other than Lord Makai. Thinking of him is dangerous.

Of course, the journal I'm hiding beneath my mattress doesn't exactly help this situation. At night, when Hael is asleep, I reach for that journal and smile yet somehow scowl at the same time while peering at what's within. There is the usual, what Hael taught me over the last few months, but in the back there are pages of Soran Makai written in my chicken scratch. Bit by bit I am getting better but seeing it makes my face warm.

I bury said face in the journal, groaning against the pages then holding them out to admire. My writing is truly awful, although now it's at least legible. If Lord Makai saw this he'd tease me for sure, say something snarky but smile while doing so.

I bite my lip to hold back my own grin. There my heart goes again, thumping wildly at the thought of him then aching upon remembering how little I've seen him of late.

"Stop it, Wallie," I whisper, putting the journal back. I curl up in the covers with my back facing Hael.

"You can't be like this. It's hopeless and..." I sigh heavily. "And dangerous."

Yet somehow the danger is always the last thing on my mind even if that is by far the most concerning. With Cathen breathing down our backs, there's a high probability that I may be the next servant convulsing on the floor. If Soran does show even the least bit of interest, there's no doubt in my mind that my life will be on the line—if it isn't already.

And if that is the case, let's say there is a one in a million chance these feelings are mutual, I...I don't want to bring that sort of pain to Soran. He carries enough already.

...fuck, I called him Soran again. This is really bad.

When my stomach decides to growl angrily, I know that sleep is not taking me anytime soon. Suppose I can grab a snack to eat away my feelings. Maybe that will help at least put me into a food coma for the evening.

With candle in hand, I quietly exit the room to tiptoe through the halls. Others are likely asleep and while there are no rules against midnight snacks, I fear waking Higra. She will likely gnaw my arm off for messing with her sleep so I am extra quiet when passing her room to get to the stairs.

The kitchen is on the first floor. I grab myself some leftover cookies as well as a few slices of bread to slather with butter. One hangs in my mouth when I exit the kitchen. I'm munching on it when a woman's voice carries through the halls from the foyer at the other end of the hall.

"There isn't meant to be anyone here?" I whisper, each word muffled by the bread.

Curious, I tiptoe once more towards the foyer at the opposite end so that the woman's voice becomes clearer and clearer.

"I'm truly heart broken, Your Grace. After so long, I was beginning to suspect you have forgotten me so when I received your summons I was ecstatic." The stranger speaks with a thick accent that I don't recognize. Every word is flirtatious in nature.

"I'm sure you were, after all, the loss of such a valuable customer would surely harm your business," Lord Makai responds, sounding neither annoyed nor joyous.

Ah, so she's a guest? But we weren't informed of any arriving earlier today...

I'm curious who this woman may be and what they speak of so late in the night. My footsteps are as quiet as a mouse. I even crouch when peering into the foyer from around the wall. Lord Makai is standing atop the stairs with a stranger, although one can easily guess who she is and what she is here for based on her attire.

Her cherry pink hair rests in long curls to her waist and bright green eyes lined with a smoky black eyeshadow. Her lips are full and lush, as red as Lord Makai's eyes while her form fitted clothes show off every curve. The dress hugs her thin waist and does not leave room to the imagination. Every step she takes is a soft click of the heels that are seen from the long slit, running from her hip all the way down her dress.

No aristocrat would be caught dead in such revealing attire. Therefore, she is the "two in one deal" that Janein spoke of.

My stomach drops.

I know that it shouldn't because I've known this for a while. However, seeing them together hurts more than I am willing to admit. And when the stranger brushes back the hair from her shoulders, there is a very telling mark, indentations in her neck with slight bruising. A mark that Lord Makai has clearly left.

My back presses against the wall. I slip to the floor, only hurting myself more by listening.

♱♱♱

If any of y'all are rude or say mean shit about the sex worker coming to do the job she was hired to do simply because she's a woman and thus a threat to the "ship," I will school the fuck out of you. Respect her. Do not be a piece of shit, I will not allow it. Also, Soran is an adult with complete ownership over his body. Wallie does not own him. He's allowed to sleep with her if he wants so don't even try it. Y'all have been warned.

Wallie can't deny his feelings for Soran even a little! And him continuously thinking of him as Soran is adorable, although I'm a bit biased ;D Our poor Wallie, you best run back to your room little one >.< How do you think things will proceed? When will our boys ever stop avoiding each other?