content edited as of April 14, 2011; no author's note added, warning untouched.
Warning: Almost-slash, male OC. No, the authoress has no idea what prompted her to do this.
After having been around for many, many years, the being known as Silas had developed an almost bottomless well of patience and understanding. However, on the rare nights that this well dried up, he always went to the same place. This place was not his first house. It was not that the house was under-furnished; Silas' house was well-made, albeit a little old, and relatively up-to-date with modern technology. It wasn't too dusty, or too dank, or too filled with stale air or grit. But truth be told, he hadn't been there for years and years.
At present he was many, many miles away from that particular house. Instead, he was making his way by moonlight to a small house on the outskirts of a large city. He hoped that Miss Lupescu wouldn't mind his being a little later than intended.
Lips pressed into a thin line, he walked to the wooden door and knocked.
The short exchange that followed was almost habit:
The man inside the house would study his face carefully before greeting him: "Silas."
"Am I disturbing you, Radin?" he would ask, or "Am I interrupting something, Radin?" or even, "Is this a bad time?"
The reply was always, "No; come in, Silas."
And the two would settle into Radin's living room (if you'll pardon the use of the term) and they would talk.
Most times, he would be gone within the night with enough time to reach the graveyard before the sun came. Others, they would talk for much longer and just before the sun rose, he would help his host shut the curtains and he would spend the day in the small house. When night fell, he would thank Radin for his hospitality and apologize for his intrusion before leaving. Radin would nod, say, "You are welcome here any time," and he would be on his way back to the graveyard on the hill, his young charge who would no doubt be upset by his long absence, the ghosts who would no doubt have fretted about his late return, and a rather irritated Miss Lupescu.
Most would ask him where he'd been (not the Hound of God, though, she believed firmly that Silas' business was his own), but he wouldn't answer them and they would drop it.
He wanted to keep Radin to himself.