He stood in the long corridor outside of the entrance to the bathroom. It had been a long time since he had been here, but every detail seemed to be etched into his memory. The tile had been hand picked, carved in India; its detail played beautifully, swirling rose and ivory marble. The fixtures were gold, glimmering in the half-light of the room. An enormous bath tub took up one end, octagonal in shape, edged with more ivory tile. In the center of the room was a vast walk-in shower, it was there that his gaze stopped.
His gasp came sharply when as he looked through the smoky glass to survey the very masculine silhouette he had been hunting. Explaining his sudden presence here would take hours, but all the trouble he had gone to would be worth it. Just looking at him, even without seeing his face was like looking at a work of art; his art, his creation, his child fledgling.
He edged himself into the bathroom quietly. The sound of the gushing water covered up any noise giving him some relief. Armand's preternatural senses were always good; Marius quietly begged whatever god was listening that he wouldn't be heard. His mind raced and his heart thundered as he slowly began to undress. His clothing fell quietly to the floor, piece by piece, sending a soft warm rush around his lean naked frame. He had worn little that night, hoping to find this peaceful interlude with his angel. Standing there, absolutely nude, he took a deep breath and continued on his path.
The large mirror spanning the wall caught Marius' eyes as he studied his own body while he walked. Nothing about him had changed in the time that had separated them. His hair was the still pale yellow that Armand had always enjoyed. His eyes were still a cold and icy blue. Without looking away, he continued his journey towards the shower with featherlike footfalls.
He stood merely inches away from his Immortal Beloved, sheathed under a heavy torrent of water. The humidity clung to Marius' frame so thick he could barely breathe, but he lingered in it with mounting desire. It was then that he heard the distressing sound, the resonance that pushed away him away from his enjoyment and replaced it with pain: Armand stood but inches from him, crying.
Slowly he reached out for the handle. The gold fixture was cold to the touch, even for the warmth of the bathroom, as he pulled against the latch. The door swung open smoothly, and released a cloud of warm, wet air. Armand's body spun around towards him in an instant, ready to attack or defend. He had pictured this scene with his fledgling a hundred times before; each image he'd envisioned was beautiful, but none could compare to seeing his Russian lover once again.
Before beginning his descent to the shower, Marius had settled on offering Armand a smile in the form of a greeting. With his mind already made up, Marius looked up at him through the steam, and flashed a centuries old grin to set his boy at ease. He stood absolutely still, like a statue frozen in time, and then drew the door closed behind him. Blood tears still covered Armand's face, along with the look of shock and surprise. Marius reached out gently, stoking one tears path, and tilted his head to watch him. His eyes met Armand's with love; Armand's met his with pain.
"Amadeo," he spoke, "my beautiful angel. I have missed you." The sound of it filled the close space between them, echoing off the walls with a slightly Latin resonance. "Please don't cry."
Marius slowly reached out to touch Armand's sloping shoulder. He moved his hand down the length of him to his hip, spreading his fingers gingerly to wrap around Armand's marble-like flesh. Softly he began kneading it, bringing the other hand to rest on the opposite side, reaching to pull him into his embrace. Armand had yet to pull away, so he drew him closer until Armand's body was pressed tightly against him, breast to breast.
The stark white color of Armand's skin indicated he hadn't fed. It looked to him that it had been a considerable time since he had taken blood. Marius moved his hand to his chest and stood back for a second, letting the water wash over him. He doused his hair, running his fingers through it, to pull it out of his face and back over his shoulders. When he stepped back to him the only thing that separated their bodies was a thin veil of water clinging desperately between them.
He wrapped his arm around Armand's back as he slowly sank towards him into the mist. Armand's tears were streaming down his face once again; pain contorted his gorgeous face, wrenching Marius' heart. He called out to him again, as if from a dream, "Armand, please. Hush, now." His words were soothing, softly spoken lullabies in the night. "You don't have to be alone, my suffering predator, my untamed hunter. I told you once that you never should be. I know your ache, my love, I can feel it, I can feel it right here inside me," he paused for a moment, touching his own skin. "But I promise you Amadeo, it will be alright. Everything will be alright, Angelo. Hush."
He stood back to watch his child's eyes. Armand had yet to speak, but his features gave all the truth away. Marius signed audibly, watching Armand carefully and lovingly as he spoke the thought into the small space between them, "The Vampire Armand with the auburn hair chasing against the water, rolling down his cherub face. How beautiful he is and always was." Marius breathed in as he finished his words while Armand blinked the tears and water from his face and fought to swallow the lump in his throat. A hoarse and ragged groan escaped him as he stepped back wiping at his face.
Suspicion and question fluttered angrily across his features. "What are you doing here?"
