Victorian Vampire Boyfriend |MxM|

Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night. Wait. No, that's not right. It is a dark and stormy night. It was a partly-cloudy windy day, just about a minute ago when Orsino stepped through the door to the art building. He hugs himself as he turns around, bewildered, in the middle of a muddy road, while being stung over and over by the pelting rain. Where on earth is he? Did he blackout and sleepwalk here? No, he remembers opening that door, seeing the strange scenery beyond it and not processing it until his shoe was already sinking into the mud. Now the door is gone.

His phone, of course, is dead.

Thunder rumbles, reverberating in his rib cage. The only shelter is a bank of trees with tumbling canopies about half a mile from the road. Aren't you not supposed to stand under a tree in a lighting storm, though? Standing in the middle of an open field doesn't seem much better, and his clothes are already clinging to him from the rain.

Before he can make up his mind about where to go when he hears the whinny of a horse penetrate the constant shush of rain. He squints, his glasses are no help, completely obscured by droplets, but he thinks he spies a halo of light approaching from down the road. He pulls an arm up in front of his face to help block out the downpour, but it does little to help. He can do little, but shiver, rubbing his arms and hoping that whatever this is can save him. At least this is the best distraction he could ask for after that disastrous critique.

It turns out to be a carriage, drawn by two horses, with a coachman riding atop in the full old-timey getup; a long trim coat, gloves, tall boots, and a top hat. "Wha-?" Orsino doesn't remember being told there were Mennonites anywhere near Arborton. Though isn't this a bit fancy for Mennonites?

The coachman doesn't seem to see him and Orsino is so dumbstruck he forgets to call out until after the carriage has passed. "Wait, h-hold up!"

Just as he shouts, waving his arms, he hears another, more muffled voice cry out, "Stop the carriage!" and the horses are quickly reigned in.

Suddenly, Orsino is nervous. He doesn't want to trust some dressed up stranger, but the chill biting at his bones demands otherwise. He approaches slowly, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

One of the doors swings open, revealing an even better dressed man, who has just removed his hat to greet him. His brown hair underneath is curly and combed back, and longish sideburns trail down his cheeks further highlighting high cheekbones, that are pale as ice. Orsino shivers, for once not from the chill. Thick angular brows quirk at him, "I hope you don't mind me saying, but you look like a drowned cat, and rather lost to boot. May I offer you a lift to your lodgings?" He stretches a hand out to Orsino.

"I...uh, don't have 'lodgings'...yet," Orsino succumbs to the sudden and overwhelming pressure to play along. He feels like he's been thrown into the ocean with not even a concept of water.

"Oh? Well then allow me to further offer you a room for the night. This is no weather for anyone to be out and about."

"Oh, sure... thanks," This strange, handsome Jane Austen man is being awfully kind, but Orsino's first priority to be dry, he'll be suspicious later. He reaches for his hand and the man braces himself against the wall and pulls him into the carriage. Orsino plops into the seat across from him with a sigh. Finally he's free from the endless rain. His freshman RA was right he really should always be carrying an umbrella with him. He pulls his messenger bag off his shoulder and settles it in his lap. The seats are plush velvet and he's already feeling guilty about soaking them with his drenched pants. The stranger knocks on the carriage wall with a cane, and the carriage begins rolling again.

"Well now, I realize your likely not entirely comfortable, yet, but I believe introductions are in order." He offers his hand again, this time to shake, "I am Elliot Darling, and you?"

Orsino softly takes his hand, it's surprisingly cool, but his fingers tingle from the contact, "Orsino Ortiz, thank you again, for saving me, Mr. Darling."