Arthur quickened his pace. The night was certainly spooky when you were all alone, sauntering through an empty street that crossed between a large cemetery and a library that had closed for the night since several hours beforehand. There were no stars that night, nor was there a moon to light his path. Peering up into the sky, Arthur could only see gray billows of clouds that gradually inched to the south, flowing with the cold winds that blew from the north. He ducked his head down, staring at his feet that were striding at a fairly swift pace over the cement sidewalks. There wasn't even a mile left in his journey back to his house, so he wouldn't be out in the bitterly cold streets of London much longer.
Or at least, that's what he thought.
The young gentleman turned and entered a gate that led into the graveyard, knowing that passing through it was an effortless shortcut to his house. Just walking straight through the cemetery on a paved pathway that ran directly from end to end would lead Arthur to a street that his house was on. Sure, a house near a graveyard wasn't the most pleasant place to dwell, but it most certainly was the cheapest. The man that had sold him the house warned him that the graveyard was supposedly haunted by despicable and nasty ghosts that loved to torment people, but Arthur had only laughed and told the man that ghosts don't usually reside in graveyards, unless they had actually died there. He continued to inform the man that specters would be far more likely to haunt a house or a residence, but the man gave him a dubious look and a good warning, just in case. Arthur ended up buying the house, since it was a very nice place, after all.
Maybe that house was a little large for a single man with no family to live in, Arthur thought, strolling calmly past the graves and ignoring a flicker of movement near one of the headstones, taking it for a raven or a raccoon. But then again, even I deserve to live in style, right? Maybe if I decide to get married… hm, I wonder who I would want to be married to. Perhaps a young blonde woman, or… Arthur's thoughts continued, not even realizing that he was being trailed until his follower spoke up, startling the young man.
"Bonjour, jeune monsieur," the person said in French, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur was about to shy away from his touch, but that would be an impolite action for a gentleman to do. Turning around, Arthur smiled and reached up to remove his hat, tipping it to the blond man that stood before him.
"Good evening, sir," Arthur greeted, not too sure if the man spoke English or not. Nevertheless, Arthur couldn't speak French, so he wouldn't be able to carry out any kind of conversation with a foreign person not speaking the same language as he. "May I be of assistance to you?"
The blond man smiled, and Arthur could clearly see the sharp canine teeth that appeared to be longer and sharper than his other teeth. He had bright blue eyes that sparkled, despite the lack of proper light. His blond hair was tied back with a short blue ribbon, and his long bangs fell around the sides of his face and curled slightly at the ends. The man was wearing a suit that puzzled Arthur, for the reason that it looked like one that a man would wear several hundred years ago. Perhaps he has a taste for old-fashioned clothing, Arthur thought silently to himself, but didn't say a word. The man also wore dress slacks and fancy leather boots that covered his legs no more than two inches up from his ankle. "Oui, you may," the blond main replied, his English heavily accented with French. "Might I ask your name, sil vous plait?"
Arthur paused. "What for?" he questioned, tipping his head slightly to the side. He turned around completely, sizing up the man. Had he met him before? Perhaps he had seen him at a private party, or a business meeting… "Not to be impolite, but…"
"Oh, of course!" The man chuckled slightly. "You must know my name first. My apologies for that." He gave a small, polite bow, and then swung his head back up and grinned at Arthur. "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. I am…" Francis paused, thinking. "I am a gentleman who lives… near here." His emphasis on the word near led Arthur to believe that he may have been lying, but out of politeness, he kept his mouth shut and allowed his new acquaintance to continue speaking. "Please forgive my brashness, but will you tell me your name?"
Arthur gave a slight nod. "My name is Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. How may I assist you?"
"Assist me?" Francis cocked his head a little as if confused, but then his perplexed expression cleared and was replaced with one of cheer and happiness once again. "Oh, yes. Assist me..." His mouth opened up slightly, and Arthur could have sworn that his two abnormally sharp canine teeth extended no less than a few millimeters. "Oui, oui…" Francis murmured, half to himself, but he assumed addressing his words to Arthur. "I have a favor to ask of you, monsieur. Do you happen to know where I live?"
Arthur peered at Francis, confused. "I'm sorry, I don't see why I would know such a thing," he replied, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to keep warm. Did the temperature just drop as Francis took a step towards him?
Francis continued to advance on him until they were only a few inches from each other. His bright blue eyes seemed to change color, almost gleaming red. Arthur was positive that his mind was playing tricks on him now. "You should know, monsieur," Francis whispered, his voice sounding like frost clinging to a leaf in the dead of winter. "I thought that it would be obvious."
Arthur stepped away from Francis. "I'm sorry," he apologized briskly. "I do not know where you live, but I am not comfortable with someone so close to me. Forgive me."
"Of course," Francis purred, his eyes reverting back to their original bright azure shade. "I was wondering… will you walk me to my house? I shall guide you there." Arthur hesitated, uncertain. "Please, monsieur," Francis pleaded, almost begging Arthur now. "It gets very lonely where I live. There is no one around my house, and I would just love for some company!"
"Alright," Arthur agreed after a moment of thinking. Francis sounded very pitiful when pleading, which swayed Arthur to feel sympathy for him. "I'll accompany you to your house, but I do need to hurry back to my own place." He waited for Francis to begin the walk, and he did, gesturing for Arthur to follow him.
To Arthur's surprise, they began walking through the graveyard, walking in between the tombstones and graves. Arthur cast a curious glance to Francis, who seemed to be perfectly content strolling through the home of the deceased. "Francis, sir… is this the best route to your house?"
Francis smiled and nodded, looking down at Arthur. He's several inches taller than me. "Oui, this is the quickest," he confirmed. Suddenly, he brought up a different subject, his question taking Arthur by surprise. "Would you mind if I held your arm?"
"Well… I suppose that would be alright."
Francis smiled and looped his arm through Arthur's drawing them closer together, making Arthur feel uncomfortable. He wasn't used to the companionship of others, especially not a strange young man like Francis with long canine teeth and old-fashioned clothing.
"This is it." Arthur glanced up at the sound of Francis's voice, confused to see that they hadn't arrived at the front of a house, but instead were standing before a headstone, marking the place of someone's eternal sleep. Puzzled, Arthur leaned over to check the name engraved on the cold stone, the moonlight his only lighting. Subtly, he made an attempt to pull away from Francis, but found that the old-fashioned gentleman was holding onto him firmly and refused to let go. Regardless, Arthur let his gaze travel along the engraved words, his emerald eyes widening in horror as they saw the name.
1542 – 1566
A vampire finally put to interminable rest here.
"Ah…" Arthur gasped out, managing a weak smile as he turned back to Francis, who smirked back at him. However, the blond man's smile held no meaning, no expression. "This was an old relative of yours?" Arthur questioned tensely. "Pity he died young, eh?"
"Yes, a pity," Francis replied, his voice dripping with mellifluous tones as his sapphire eyes seemed to bore a hole into Arthur's mind. "Mr. Francis Bonnefoy was a very… close relative. Very close, indeed." Much to Arthur's astonishment, Francis swept Arthur in close to his body, and then dipped him down until the back of his head nearly touched the cold grass, his hand supporting him by the back of his neck. "Do you know who I am?" Francis whispered, his sultry voice striking a wave of panic through Arthur. Suddenly, Arthur wanted to get away, far away from this man. When he didn't reply to the question that Francis had asked, the blond man leaned in close to his face, his warm breath stirring the bangs of Arthur's pale blond hair. "Do you know who I am?" he repeated.
"You…" Arthur managed to choke out before stopping himself from continuing. There was no real evidence that Francis was a vampire, long dead for decades, centuries. "You…"
Francis smirked, and then spread his lips apart a few inches. White fangs gleamed down at Arthur, longer than they were when Arthur had first seen them, and their ends were pointed sharply at the ends. "I am…?" he prompted coolly. "Say it, Arthur Kirkland. Say who… say what I am."
Arthur's body began to tremble all over as Francis leaned in even further, his lips grazing the skin on the side of his neck. "You're a vampire," he breathed, wincing as Francis's fangs pressed up against his skin, tantalizingly waiting for the perfect moment to sink into him, stealing his life blood from him and killing him. "You're a vampire and you've been dead for centuries." Arthur flinched, feeling Francis's hand that supported the back of his neck stroke his skin tenderly, his fingers trailing over and over his neck.
"That's right," Francis purred melodiously in response. "I'm a vampire, Arthur Kirkland. I'm a vampire and you know what?" Arthur's eyes widened as Francis let his fangs sink not even a centimeter into his flesh. A stinging sensation followed the small bite, spreading over his flesh throughout the rest of his neck. "You're mine," Francis finished, thrusting his fangs deeper abruptly into Arthur's neck. Arthur opened his mouth in astonishment, but no sound came out as he felt Francis's lips close around the puncture wounds and gently suck the blood from him. It hurt a lot more than he had expected, feeling like a mixture of a burn wound and a cat scratch, melded into one stinging, tingling, painful feeling throughout his entire neck. He hadn't expected it to feel like that. After reading about vampires in his fantasy novels, he had only read that the bite didn't feel painful to the victim at all. However, this was quite the opposite.
Arthur let out a sudden exhale of breath when Francis removed his fangs, ripping them out like a dog would do when tearing meat from an animal carcass. Arthur's blood flew out along with the fangs, forcing the gentleman to turn his head at the sight (for it made him feel ill). Francis lifted Arthur to his feet suddenly, not giving him any choice about what he was to do next. Instead of letting him fall dead on the ground like Arthur had expected, Francis just held Arthur in front of him and looked him directly in the eye. "Does the injury hurt, Arthur?" he inquired. Arthur blinked in confusion. Why wasn't he dead?
"It… it does hurt," Arthur admitted, reaching up to feel the wound, but surprised to find that Francis thrust his arm away from his neck. "Eh? What are you doing…?"
"Don't touch it," Francis ordered, his voice holding a playful tone to it, almost as if he was teasing Arthur. "You can't touch it until we get it fixed up back where I live. If you want to know why, it's just because I'm such a cruel vampire~!"
"A… cruel…" Arthur blinked. "What the bloody hell are you talking about? I'll touch the wound if I want to!"
"No, you won't," Francis taunted. "You're not allowed to touch it."
Arthur reached out to grab Francis's shirt collar, succeeding and gripping the cloth tightly between his fingers. "You bastard," he growled harshly. "I have some questions for you, and I want them answered now. First of all, why am I not dead? Second of all, why didn't you kill me? Third, what the hell is wrong with you? You bite me and then you start to play with me. Is this some kind of cat-and-mouse game?"
Francis smirked, his blue eyes sparkling. He does look rather adorable like that. "Perhaps it is like that," he teased. "Perhaps it's not. But you know, you're in no place to be asking questions like that." He reached up and gripped Arthur's wrist, his fingernails digging into Arthur's flesh and letting a few droplets of blood drip down his fingers. Arthur winced at the sharp pain. "Remove your hand, Arthur," Francis commanded. "How deep do my nails have to go into you before you let go?" His fingernails dug even further into Arthur's wrist, and the young man let out a small exclamation of pain. Without even thinking about it, he released Francis's shirt collar and let out a sigh of relief as Francis in return released his wrist, wrenching his claw-like fingernails out of his skin. Arthur gripped his injured wrist with his free hand, staring with disgust as blood dripped from between his fingers. It hurt… "You're mine."
Arthur glanced up. "You're mine," Francis repeated. "You're mine and you must do whatever I tell you to. You can see a little preview of what I might do if you do something as little as boldly grabbing my shirt collar like that and questioning me in a rude manner. But if you do something, like, say… try and kill me, then I might just go ahead and do things to you that… should not be mentioned in polite company." He smiled diabolically at Arthur, who was staring back at him with wide, frightened green eyes. "Do you think you'll be trying that again, Arthur Kirkland?"
Arthur shook his head. He wasn't too sure if he wanted to know what Francis would do to him if he disobeyed him, and he wasn't about to find out. He didn't want anything else to happen to him that night.
"But to continue, I suppose that you have the right to know why I bit you and why you're still a human." Francis smiled at Arthur as he nodded eagerly. "I simply saw how beautiful you looked tonight, with the moonlight reflecting off of those gorgeous jade eyes of yours, and I knew that you must be mine. See, if I want something, I take it. But you are such an innocent young human, Arthur, and I couldn't bear to take your life away from you. You don't want to die or turn into a vampire like me, do you?" Arthur shook his head in response, keeping his mouth shut in fear of blurting out something stupid that would get him hurt again. "So, in return for your life, I think I'll make you my little pet. You'll come and live with me in my house with my two friends, Antonio and Gilbert along with their humans, while you get to continue being a human. I trust that you live alone?"
Arthur cast a suspicious look to Francis, thinking about how he would respond if he was asked that question by any other person. However, given this case and his situation, Arthur only nodded. "I live alone and I have no family here," he replied honestly, having no inclination to lie to his captor. "And if I may ask, will you not call me your pet? I find that to be a very degrading term—"
"What makes you think that you have a say in this?" Francis interrupted smoothly. "I will call you whatever I want, mon petit lapin." Arthur opened his mouth, about to ask what Francis's French words meant, but Francis was already replying to the silent question. "Mon petit lapin means, 'my little rabbit.' Go ahead, Arthur Kirkland. Ask me not to call you that. Would you like to find out what will happen to you then?" Arthur bit his lip gently, reminding himself not to speak out. One wrong move and he could be tortured by this strange vampire. Francis peered at Arthur's face, making sure that he wasn't going to reply, and then looped his arm through Arthur's, locking them together. "We still have a few hours until dawn, but I don't want to take any risks," he said softly. "We should get back to my house as soon as possible. There, I can bandage that neck wound of yours." Arthur nodded, the mention of dawn making him feel a little drowsy. When he got back to his house, he would always go right to sleep, but meeting Francis made things a little different. All he wanted was a warm bed with soft pillows next to a fire place, and his Scottish Fold cat to jump up on the foot of his bed and sleep with him… Just the thought made Arthur yawn and lean up against the warmest thing near him—Francis.
Francis glanced down at Arthur, and managed a warm smile. "You must be very tired, Arthur," he murmured, stroking his hair gently. Arthur didn't object. "I'll tell you what… I'm going to pick you up, and you can fall asleep in my arms. Then, I'll take you to the house and put you in a nice, warm bed where you can sleep for as long as you want."
Waking up, Arthur found himself in a warm and cushy bed, his body wrapped in two or three heavy white blankets that were probably stuffed with down feathers. They seemed to be trapping his body heat in, considering the current temperature of Arthur's body. He was sweltering in there! Quickly, he thrust the blankets off of his body, only to pull them back on again, his face flushing with embarrassment when he realized that he was only wearing his underwear. How did that happen? Oh right… Arthur sighed and relaxed back down in the bed. The vampire that he had met the previous night had taken him back to his house, after biting him… Arthur reached up his hand to tenderly touch the area on his neck where Francis had bit him. Feeling around, he could tell that there was a bandage on his skin, covering the puncture wound. Judging from the stiffness of the dressing, it was probably bleeding quite a bit before it had stopped. If he were to look in a mirror, he might find that it was dark red with dried blood.
Well, this is a load of bollocks, Arthur thought, turning over on his side to face the wall by the bed and pulling the blanket up to his chin. He could see a window near him, but the long, thick red drapes were pulled shut, golden drawstrings hanging from them. A bit of sunlight peeked through the sides of the curtains, so Arthur guessed that it was probably almost noon. Since he was in a house with vampires now, it would make sense that they want a dark room… but where exactly was this house? I don't even know where I am! How on Earth am I supposed to get back home? And what of my Scottish Fold kitten…? Arthur glanced up, his thoughts interrupted as the door, several feet from the foot of the bed, opened and a young man, perhaps only a teenager, entered the room while holding a tray and some fresh white bandages. He had chestnut-brown hair and copper eyes that flashed with alarm when he saw Arthur staring back at him in confusion. He let out a small shriek and started yelling frantically in some foreign language, perhaps Spanish or Italian. Arthur was unable to tell if he was yelling at him or at something or someone else. Still carrying the tray, the boy ran out of the room, yelling a name that sounded like "Antonio."
Arthur blinked in confusion, his emerald eyes wide. Who was that boy? And hadn't Francis mentioned something about his friends Antonio and Gilbert? Then maybe that boy was Antonio's human… The boy came running back, shouting in Spanish and dragging a taller man behind him. This other man, having slightly curly, coffee colored hair, also had tan skin and bright emerald eyes that sparkled in the dim light that seeped through the window. He wore a large smile while talking quietly to the boy that was yelling, stroking back his hair and being cautious to avoiding a small haywire curl of hair that stuck out from the boy's head. He was whispering softly in Spanish, which Arthur could only understand bits and pieces of, unable to put together any complete sentence. Even though he had studied both Spanish and French as a student several years ago, he had forgotten most of it.
Now the man had looked up at Arthur and was starting to walk towards him, his hands behind his back and the large smile still on his face. It was a little creepy, the way that he wouldn't stop smiling, but at the same time it was kind of relaxing. "Hola, señor. My name is Antonio. Francis brought you in here the other night, and I do not know if he told you about me, but I'm one of his friends. Just like him, I'm a vampire, but we're very different people." Antonio paused, letting his words sink into Arthur before continuing. He motioned to the boy behind him, who appeared to be pouting now while glaring at Arthur. "This is my adorable little human, Lovino. I apologize for his reactions to you waking up, yelling like that. He does that often, and he had no intention of frightening you. You know, you and him might get along, being of the same species. But if you touch my Lovi in any way…" Antonio's face darkened. "…I will kill you regardless of what Francis says." Arthur narrowed his eyes at the obvious but unexpected threat. However, in just a few moments, Antonio smiled cheerfully again. "I will see you later, then. I put Lovi in charge of changing your bandages and monitoring you while you slept. He's going to redress the wound, and then I think I'll send Francis and Gilbert in to see you. Adiós, Arthur!" With that, Antonio simply left the room, leaving Lovino to start inching towards Arthur, clutching the tray tightly with pale hands.
"You're new here…" he mumbled. "Damn it, it's scary when someone new comes. At least you're another human, though. If another vampire came, I wouldn't be able to fucking stand it."
Arthur folded his arms across his chest. "Mind your language, child," he chided. "Someone as young as you shouldn't even know those words. How old are you, anyways?"
"Sixteen. Got a problem with that?" Lovino shot back, finally reaching Arthur's side. "Lie back down, you stupid bastard. It's easier to change the bandages when you're not moving around and talking." Arthur nodded and did so, watching Lovino curiously as he started to remove the once white strips of cloth from his neck and place them on the tray, exchanging them for fresh ones. To Arthur's surprise, the old bandages didn't have much blood on them, but were still marked with the deep crimson blood. Feeling a little ill, Arthur turned his head away and closed his eyes. "You okay, bastard?" Lovino asked, finishing up and taking the tray away from the bedside. "Don't like the sight of blood, huh?"
Arthur shook his head, turning back to face Lovino. "No… it's a little too sickening…"
Lovino snorted. "You were certainly unlucky, you jerk, being picked up by Francis. He's by far the worst, Gilbert being after him. Francis is far too rough with his victims, torturing them physically, playing with their minds a little, raping them if he feels like it, and finally killing them." He shuddered. "Their screams are louder than anything else I've ever heard, damn it."
He rapes his victims? Arthur thought in disgust. I just hope that he hasn't had any humans before me, ending up torturing and killing them. "What are… Gilbert and Antonio like, then? I mean, in comparison to Francis, of course."
Lovino shrugged. "Gilbert's okay, but he's super fucking loud and really self obsessed. He's always saying how he's the best and he's awesome and everyone should love him. His human hates him and is always smacking him in the head, though. Just wait until you see that. But Antonio is very different…" Lovino hesitated, as if deciding whether to continue or not. He ended up talking again, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes. "Antonio is always happy, always smiling, and he loves to play the guitar and sing. He's the most human of the other two vampires, even if he is scary when you piss him off. But like Francis, Antonio—" This time, Lovino did stop talking, slapping his hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. "See you later, bastard." Quickly, Lovino rushed out of the room, a few of the bandages flying from the tray.
Arthur stared after him. If Antonio was like Francis, what had he been doing to Lovino? His thoughts were interrupted when a familiar blond vampire entered the room, closing the doors behind him and smiling brightly at Arthur. Francis had kept his hair back like the previous night with a blue ribbon, but he was wearing different clothes—today, he wore a white coat over a claret turtleneck sweater with white slacks but the same shoes as before.
"Ah, Arthur, mon lapin," Francis sang out, hurrying over to the bed and sitting down on it. "How is my favorite little gentleman doing this morning? I trust that Antonio told you a bit about this place and little Lovino came in to help change your bandages…" He reached up and gently ran the pads of his fingers over the fresh white bandages on Arthur's neck, causing the British man's face to turn cherry-red with embarrassment. "Mm, yes, I can see that Lovino did a good job with those. You should be better soon, my darling little Arthur." He leaned over to kiss Arthur's forehead, but Arthur ducked out of the way and shoved Francis hard enough to make him nearly fall out of the bed. "Ah, what was that for, mon petit lapin? You don't push me…"
"Can I please just have my clothes back?" Arthur begged, not meaning to sound like a whining child but finding no other way to ask. He did really want to get his clothes back on, or else he would be walking around in his underwear all day. "That's all I ask for right now, Francis…"
Francis regained his composure and looked Arthur in the eye, his own sapphire eyes burning. "I said, you don't push me," he whispered, his voice turning into ice. Suddenly, he lunged forward, his outstretched hands catching Arthur's shoulders and pushing him back down onto the bed, pinning him in place while his fangs gleamed. Arthur let out a cry of protest, but it was no use. Francis was already reaching to pull away the bandages on his neck—
"Ouch!" Francis let out a sharp exclamation sat up, releasing Arthur and rubbing the back of his head. "Elizabeta, what are you doing?"
Arthur struggled to sit up, surprised to find a young girl, probably in her mid twenties, holding a frying pan out defensively. She had lively jade green eyes and light brown hair, with two brightly colored flowers placed above her left ear. She was wearing a green and white dress, too, with a white sash tied around the middle. "What do you think I'm doing, Francis?" she said sharply, raising the frying pan again. "If you lose yourself, what do you think will become of the poor human there? Apologize to him at once, vampire!"
Francis turned back to Arthur, who was still a little bewildered at what Francis was trying to do to him. "I'm sorry," Francis said apologetically, his voice soft. "Sometimes I just lose myself when I'm angry. It doesn't usually happen, so there's no need to live in fear of me all the time."
"Doesn't usually happen," Elizabeta scoffed from behind Francis. "Yeah, it only happens every other night when Lovi starts swearing at you." Francis shot Elizabeta a cold glare, but didn't make any move to attack her, much to Arthur's surprise.
"If you were my human, I would have killed you by now." Francis's words were dark, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement as if he was telling a joke. "You're very lucky that you're protected by the pact that Gilbert and Antonio and I made that prevents us from hurting each other's human pets. Maybe I'll find away to abolish that pact… Mm, then I can go ahead and gouge out that tender, female human throat of yours."
Elizabeta smirked, not at all bothered by Francis's cheery tone of voice and rather frightening choice of vocabulary. "Yes, but until then, you're not allowed to lay a finger on me!" She playfully prodded Francis in the stomach with her frying pan. "And don't call me a pet of that stupid Gilbert. If anything, I am his master. No one controls me." Without waiting for a response from Francis, she spun around and promptly left the room, laughing a little. It was a cute, bubbly little laugh that lifted Arthur's spirits.
"Poor Gilbert," Francis remarked, staring after her. "He has to deal with a human like her." He scratched the back of his head where Elizabeta had struck him with the frying pan. He turned his head, looking at Arthur and smiling warmly. "Arthur, darling, if you couldn't tell from what Eliza and I were talking about, my fellow vampires and I have made an agreement that if one of us has a human pet, as in one that we don't kill or turn into a vampire, then the others are not allowed to touch, hurt, or murder that human unless it has been sanctioned with the owner of the human. If that's the case, we might just have a feeding frenzy and rip the human limb from limb and drain the body of blood. Thankfully, we've had no inclination to kill any human pet… yet. Just be a good boy for me, oui? You'll be safe if you follow my rules, I promise."
Arthur nodded, his eyes wide with fear and disgust. Francis wasn't making a very good first impression, speaking of killing him if he misbehaved.
"Oh, right…" Francis reached up and placed his hand suddenly on Arthur's shoulder, making him jump at the sudden coldness of his flesh. That's right, he's a vampire. He's a dead creature, so of course he's going to feel like ice. "You'll need your clothes if you want to walk around this house. But I'm actually cleaning them right now, so we can pick something out for you to wear for the rest of the day." Francis gestured to a closet door embedded in the wall to the west of the bed. "The clothes may be a little old-fashioned, but I think we can find something that suits you." He winked in a very charming manner that made Arthur smile a little. In spite of this, the British gentleman was still a little uneasy about how Francis was saying "we" instead of "you."
Arthur managed the most sincere smile he could give. Remember, be polite. Elizabeta isn't here to save you if he snaps again. "Ah, Mr. Bonnefoy, don't you mean you instead of we? I… I mean, I can pick out my clothes on my own."
Francis smiled. "And you think that you're independent from me? No, I don't think so." His voice sent a chill down Arthur's spine. "You're my pet, Arthur Kirkland. I decide what you wear, what you eat, where you sleep, and what you call me. I don't want you to refer to me as 'Mr. Bonnefoy," Arthur. You will call me 'Master' or 'sir.' Is that understood?" Arthur nodded glumly, not making eye contact with the French vampire. He wasn't comfortable with the idea of being controlled by Francis, let alone calling him his master. He wasn't a dog, after all. "Good." Francis reached under the blankets and grasped Arthur's wrist, the one that wasn't injured. "Come on out from those covers, mon petit lapin. Don't blush like that… there's no need to be embarrassed. I already saw you in your boxers when I took off your clothes." Arthur's blush deepened, and his skin looked more rose colored than peach. "Stand up."
Arthur, feeling insecure about himself, removed the blankets from his body and stood up, resisting the urge to shudder as the cold air swept over his almost-nude body. Tensely, he started walking to the closet, feeling Francis's eyes trained on his back like a hawk watches its prey. Opening up the closet door, Arthur found that it was filled with suits and pants, with orderly pairs of shoes lined up on the floor. Francis reached out from over his shoulder and after a few moments of thinking, picking a maroon-colored suit and pressing it to Arthur's chest, and then deciding on a pair of slacks that were a slightly darker shade and handing them to Arthur as well. "You'll wear these," Francis stated, grabbing Arthur by the shoulders and steering him away from the closet. "When you're done changing, I'll take you out of the room to meet Gilbert and give you a quick tour of the house."
"Yes, ah… Master," Arthur murmured, uncomfortable that Francis was still watching him as he slipped into the clothes, his light azure eyes gleaming hungrily. However, in a few minutes, Arthur was in the suit, straightening out the wrinkles and blowing away a few flecks of dust that had gathered on its velvety surface while it was in the closet. Francis approached Arthur, straightening the black tie for him and brushing his blond hair away from his emerald green eyes.
"You're a very gorgeous human, you know," Francis whispered, licking his lips. "Forgive me and being selfish and taking you all for myself. I trust that you didn't leave too much behind at your previous house?"
"Ah… actually," Arthur began, taking a subtle step away from Francis, blinking in mild surprise as the blond vampire leaned forward with him, keeping only half a foot between their faces. "I had a kitten at home. A Scottish Fold named Iggy… I'm a little worried about him, since he doesn't have any accessible food. There's no one to take care of him now."
"I see." Francis smiled and indiscreetly snaked his arm around Arthur's waist, placing his hand on his hip. Arthur flushed and looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "Well, I can either let you go to take care of him, maybe give him to someone else, risking you escaping, or we can only hope that someone realizes that you're gone and finds your darling little kitten in the house, mewing for food."
Arthur gently pulled away from Francis's grip, but his hand was firmly holding him. "I would prefer to feed him myself, sir."
Francis leaned in, making Arthur wince as his lips brushed up against the side of his neck. "And let you escape? Non, non, that will not do, Arthur. I can't have you escaping me, can I? I would have to punish you in a very unpleasant manner, and as much as I would love to see that delightful little face of yours screaming in horrible agony, begging and pleading for mercy, I don't think that you would like that very much at all. Besides, if I accidentally kill you, then I won't have any other human to play with."
Play… Arthur shuddered. What is wrong with Francis? He's a sadistic monster… Hoping to change the subject, Arthur started a new conversation. "Pray tell, Master, when are you going to take me on a tour of the house? I would love to see the rest of it…"
Francis giggled. "Aren't you such a polite little thing? We can go now, if you would like. I don't know if Gilbert's busy or not… he might be messing around with Elizabeta in his room, and I wouldn't want to bother him then." He started to lead Arthur away, his hand still wrapped around his middle. "Mind you, pet, this house is very large. You can't tell from here, but it's a mansion on the outskirts of London. The other two vampires and I wanted to live in England, so… here we are. It's a gorgeous house, if I do say so myself." He gave a bubbly laugh and started to guide Arthur down the hall, pointing out the rooms on the way. "That's where Antonio and Lovino sleep, that's where Gilbert and Elizabeta sleep, and the room that we were just in is where we'll be sleeping from now on…"
Arthur abruptly stopped walking, coming to a complete halt, "I'm sorry?" he questioned curiously. "You mean we'll be sleeping in the same room? Together?" Francis nodded.
"Oui, oui." Francis smiled. "There's nothing wrong with a master and his pet sleeping in the same bed, is there? Did you and your kitten sleep in the same bed?"
Arthur flushed and started walking again, picking up his pace a little. "Y-yes, but that is different," he argued. "We're both fully grown men… and you're not even a man! You're a walking corpse with sharp teeth! Honestly…" Arthur hesitated, seeing Francis's face grow cold and hard. Suddenly, he realized what he had said. Being called anything less than a man could offend any gentleman. "Sorry, Master," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to say that…"
"Regardless," Francis snapped, his tone of voice changing entirely. Both of his hands flew up, grasping Arthur's wrists to hold him while he roughly thrust him up against the nearest open space on the wall. "I think that after this, you'll know better than to insult your master like that."
Arthur's eyes widened with fear, his mouth opening slightly to allow his shallow breathing to pass between his lips. "Fra—Master! What are you going to do to me?"
Francis smirked cruelly as he pinned Arthur's hands to the wall on either side of his head. "I don't know yet," he cooed, taunting Arthur mercilessly. "Maybe I should take you down to the torture rooms in the basement, lock you up, and whip you into submission, or I can feed off of you until you faint from blood loss, or, here! Here's a wonderful idea! I'll take you back to the bedroom and pleasure myself with you until you scream for me to stop. Ah, just the thought makes me shiver with delight!" Francis let out a wistful sigh and looked directly into England's alarmed green eyes. "What do you think, mon cher? Take your pick."
"Y-you can't possibly expect me to choose my torture," Arthur stammered, yearning to be safe back at his own house, curled up under the covers with his kitten. "Can you not find it in your heart to let me off with a warning?"
The violent, sadistic look on Francis's face vanished at Arthur's words, and he suddenly looked contemplative. "Well, I suppose…" He removed one of Arthur's hands from its place on the wall and examined the back of it, then suddenly ducked his head down and sank his two fangs deep into his flesh.
Arthur bit back a cry of pain and turned away, grinding his teeth together as Francis closed his mouth around the two puncture marks and sucked out some of his blood, ripping his teeth away after a few moments and looking up at Arthur. "There's your warning, I think you'll have two new scars once those wounds heal… I hope you know just how lucky you are, only having scars instead of death from blood loss by my leather whip." He giggled, while Arthur stared at him in disgust, gripping his injured hand. Francis just had to choose the hand that was connected to the wrist that was already hurt. "I'm the most pitiless vampire of our trio, Arthur. I don't listen to pleas for mercy. And yet, I find myself listening to you…" Francis sighed. "What an odd phenomenon. Oh, well. Shall we dismiss that event? Come this way, mon cher. Down this corridor is a bathroom where you can find medical supplies, like gauze bandages and disinfectant. We'll need to take care of that hand of yours so it doesn't get infected." Francis's bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he led Arthur into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. "In case you didn't know, vampire saliva is actually a great treatment and prevention of infections. And even though my mouth has already been on your hand, we should just play it safe."
Arthur, still clutching his wounded hand, glanced up at Francis. "I don't suppose you'll let me use any actual disinfectant to clean this up?"
Francis shook his head, a bright smile still held on his young face. "Non, mon petit lapin. Do you not think that it is more fun this way?" Without waiting for Arthur to respond, Francis lifted the human's hand to his mouth. He swiped his tongue over his lips before closing his mouth around the wound, dropping some saliva onto the blood-stained puncture marks before transferring Arthur's hand back to him. "We keep the gauze under the sink," Francis informed Arthur, opening up the wooden cabinet to reveal supplies such as soap, toilet tissue, and a first aid kit. "Use it when you need to, but if you waste it, I'm going to punish you. Not severely, mind you." He pulled out the gauze bandage and immediately began to wrap it around and around Arthur's injured and damp hand; only when Francis made sure that the bandages were secure did he put away the gauze.
"T-thank you… Master," Arthur mumbled, stammering out his words. Calling Francis "Master" still didn't feel quite right on his tongue.