@StoicVampires He gripped Toby's hand just a little bit tighter, as if trying to make sure all of this were real. To be use it was not, as Tobias had said, a dream- or rather a bit more likely in Dorian's case, a nightmare. "Be thankful for that. I envy your lack of dreams."
@StoicVampires Just an excuse to spend money on frivolous gifts and eat too much chocolate, really.
Good. How do you feel about overpriced sweets and snogging on the sofa?
@StoicVampires hope the vile creature wouldn't elaborate. 'I'm coming for you, Toby.' Dorian thought, sure that no matter where his boyfriend had gone, he would find a way to bring him back.
@StoicVampires remained in place even as the other spoke of... Of things that hit far too close to home. Was that what Tobias thought? His poor, dear Toby. Still, he tilted his head to the side and arched a brow, as if he were curious to the story behind it. He wasn't. And could not help but +
@StoicVampires Yes, well- that's what Sundays are for. Doing nothing. If I can't be absolutely gluttonous and slothgul... and... well, maybe a little lustful- on a Sunday, than I've no reason to continue on.
I hate to say it, but I'd rather not inhabit your body. (You can "inhabit" mine though)
@StoicVampires What can I saw? Never a dull moment. Save for Sundays... nothing ever happens on sunday.
Yes, but he wanted /your/ body. And not in a sexy way.
@StoicVampires I resent that. I don't run into trouble. Trouble runs into me. >.>
Besides, it's not like you're not much the same. Need I remind you of... Santa?
@TheMonsterJen "People disappoint me all the time, have only really found any joy in killing but a few- if we're being frightfully honest." He paused, curiosity peaked as he tilted his head slightly to regard the other. "It wouldn't do to assume my age. However, what exactly are you?"
@TheMonsterJen Believe it or not, there are a lot of things that die when you snap their necks. Sometimes I think it's beautiful, though. Their lives are so fragile, so fleeting. Instead of going on and on- never stopping, never-ending...
I'm sorry, what were we talking about again?
Public integration. He lets me smoke a fag as he drives. The conversations are short and intimate. They have to be. After all, he's my doctor. He's frustrated, I can tell. He'd hoped I'd be dead at the very least. Apparently, the devil does not learn from his mistakes.