Happy Birthday...!
feat. vampire!alhaitham
cw(s) : two dorks being too adorable, smitten alhaitham
wc : 1.4k
Every so often, Alhaitham could be found in profound contemplation in the study of his imposing mansion. Books strewn about, some half open and some in piles beside his chair and utop his desk—though the material of his perusal remains hard to deduce.
An amateur mistake would entail that Alhaitham wasn't in deep thought at all, but in a slumber and that could be credible, if you were to disregard his species' characteristics altogether. Though Alhaitham assumes a relaxed position, his senses are never in the same state of inertia. His ears pick up on tip-toeing footsteps, the vibrations registering as familiar in his sharp mind. These playful tricks could fool any ordinary human, not a vampire capable of catching the pressure applied in those pattering sounds.
He knows it's you, can predict you have a surprise in your hands and can envision the playful smile that must undoubtedly be stretching across your lips. But he does not move an inch, does not give any indication that he's aware. Alhaitham is not known for frivolity and neither would he be inclined to encourage such behavior if this was anyone else. Perhaps every action of an intellectual appears to bear some motive to the audience, or simply the intention is interpreted.
Nevertheless, Alhaitham continues to act his part, giving all the reactions you expect. Appearing to be startled when your arms wrap around his neck but before he has the chance to respond, you swivel in front of him after pressing a chaste kiss under his jaw. Turquoise eyes widen, for that he didn't see coming. He can only thank that blood never rushes to coat his skin pink as you stand in all your giddiness before him and dear vampire lords, are you the brightest.
“Happy birthday!”
The vampire blinks, vacillating between your expectant expression and at the ‘gift’ you eagerly present to him.
Ah, so that's the occasion. Alhaitham has always thought that humans were a bit too passionate about celebrating the day they were born. Such customs are not performed among his kin, for a vampire's ‘birthday’ is just a bitter reminder of their eternal damnation. But, you don't know that. Tied to your mortal sentimentalities and well wishes ; he knows of your sole and innocent wish to make him happy.
So, he carefully takes the wrapped object in one hand and grasps your outstretched palm in the other, gently guiding you to his lap. His unbeating heart swells when you follow him without the slightest hesitation.
“Thank you, what is the gift?”
“No no, you aren't supposed to ask me that, Haitham! You have to open it yourself.”
You chide him with a raised finger and one of his brows quirks up. He's still not yet accustomed to every nuance of human behavior but, for you, he continues learning.
“Apologies, let me correct myself then.”
Alhaitham undoes the ribbon and wrapping paper, putting them aside to feel the coolness of the ceramic mug on his hand. Orange pupils squint to capture the details, turquoise painting and the words ‘best vampire’ boldly printed in black in the mug's body.
“Do you like it?” your hopeful tone snaps him out of his inspection. If this had been even fifty years ago, he wouldn't have stopped a confused frown from showing. Or, if the object had been handed by someone else, he wouldn't have considered it anything less than a joke.
“I...yes, I do like it. I wasn't aware that I was the ‘best vampire’ in your eyes. But then again, have you met other ones?” Alhaitham asks smoothly, feigning indifference to the sardonic prospect that you might have.
“Not at all! But you know the stories of vampires everyone tells, they're usually so scary, mean and selfish. You're none of those, you're intelligent, calm and have the softest heart—which is why, you're the best.”
Alhaitham appraises your confident answer with a humorful look, surely you must not think he's like this with everyone else? But, he doesn't correct you at all, feeling almost inebriated by your heartfelt words. It's also a bonus that his ego swells, he's still like any other man in some aspects.
“You know, I actually wanted to add a mosquito and bat sticker to the mug.”
That yanks Alhaitham out of his bliss.
“A.. mosquito?”
“Yes..? Aren't you essentially an overgrown mosquito? You know, both of you rely on blood to survive?” you question innocuously, shifting in his lap nonchalantly.
Alhaitham's jaw slackens, not knowing whether to be offended or amused. If this was inquired of any other vampire, you would not be able to get a second sentence out. But, he identifies this as a lack of knowledge and decides informing you would be best.
“That is a grave misconception. Because only female mosquitoes drink blood, during the time they bear eggs, more precisely.”
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape in understanding, quickly morphing to a sheepish expression. “I’m really sorry…”
Alhaitham waves it off, pausing when he remembers something, “You also mentioned a bat sticker, why?”
This time you look up at him in barely restrained excitement, “I've wanted to ask this for the longest time! You can transform into a bat, right?”
“No, I can't.” your shoulders slump slightly.
“Then.. will you turn to ash if you come into contact with sunlight?”
“While prolonged exposure to sunlight can kill a vampire, we've evolved to be able to withstand marginal exposition. It's not as deadly as the movies portray it.” your expression falls but he notices some semblances of relief. Huh, were you worried for him?
You try again, “W-well, will you die if you eat garlic?”
“Garlic makes me allergic. Its scent is pungent and irritating. Not much different than human allergies.”
This time, Alhaitham doesn't bother masking his amusement at your pout, “Was everything I've known about vampires a lie?”
One of the first traits Alhaitham had noticed about you was your curious nature and eagerness to learn new things. You'd always be on the lookout for an opportunity to ask him questions regarding his vampire roots in particular, preferably when you deemed he was in a good mood. Most of the time though, you opted to make your own observations. It seemed both of you were the most interesting creature on Teyvat in each other's eyes.
The vampire puts the ceramic mug aside on the table, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. He tilts up your downcast face with a finger beneath your chin, “It's not your fault that human media portray vampires in that particular light and weave these stereotypes. You know only what you've been shown.”
Ashen locks tickle your skin, “You’re not mad at me..?”
“Not at all.” how could he ever be upset with you?
Alhaitham sighs in relief when your smile returns in full force, turquoise eyes slowly shift to your neck, the pulse there beating with the essence of your psyche. A frown marrs his impeccable features as a thought passes by his mind. Humans cherish every year of their lifespan due to the limitation of it. They're fragile, susceptible to the whims of time. But instead of lamenting their inevitable end, they choose to celebrate and foster the memories acquired within their short lives. He's not subjected to the same laws, the shadow of death will not fall upon him as a result of old age.
He'd pondered about this mortality but never worried about those subjected to it. However, as he feels the warmth of your body envelop his cold one and cradles this vessel of the purest soul he's encountered — he can't stop a bolt of paranoia from racing down his spine. What would he do if he could never hold you again like this?
His thoughts are interrupted when he feels your arms around his shoulders again, your warmth presses against him. For a moment, Alhaitham stays still and stunned, all his senses focusing on your proximity, your scent and the beating of your heart. You don't say anything more, letting all your reassurance seep through that sweet embrace. A canopy of serenity drapes over the vampire and he returns your hug to imbibe these feelings deep in his soul.
His hand brushes along your back a few times before coming to a halt, “[ Name ],”
“Yes?” your hum tickles the skin of his shoulder.
“Are you wearing my shirt?”
A beat of silence passes, Alhaitham was so caught up in the flurry of events that he completely missed the white shirt hanging loosely on your figure. Albeit, he's anything but irritated at this revelation, you could take his entire wardrobe and he'd thank you.
“Teehee~”
Alhaitham places a reverent kiss on your pulse, smiling as your mischievous giggle reaches his ear.
Just for this moment, he supposes he can forget the rules and restrictions of this wretched world and indulge in your presence.
[more vampire!alhaitham content]
362 notes
·
View notes
Imagine Luis surviving his knife wound and you patch him up.
“¡Joder! That hurts, you know?”
“Don’t have anesthesia, I told you. Stop moving.”
“Right, sorry- ¡Ay, Dios! Are you stitching with a knitting needle or something?”
You had to hide your laugh under a scoff, thankful he couldn’t see your amused smile at his attitude.
Luis was leaning against a crate when you finally caught up to him and Leon. The latter informed you of their encounter with Krauser, the Spaniard’s injuries confirmed by pain-filled groans. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you had Luis moved to one of the metal tables near the mine’s exit and stripped him of his shirt and jacket. He weakly made a teasing comment about you using his injury to get him out of his clothes, but you ceased his attempts at jest by gently making him lay on his stomach and dove right into the task of treating the gushing wound.
Thanks to your meticulous efforts and the medicinal herbs that Leon keeps around in his case, Luis was stable in no time. Able to breathe a little easier, he instructed Leon to fetch the key from his jacket pocket, saying that the agent will need it to gain access to his laboratory on the island where he and Ashley will then use the surgical equipment to remove the parasites from their bodies. After assuring him that the both of you will be fine and will catch up after Luis is completely patched up and ready to go, Leon made his swift exit, leaving the both of you alone. Which brings you to this point in time- you suturing him.
“Should consider yourself lucky. Any deeper and the blade would have struck your heart. Then… well, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“You call it “luck”, my friend, but I like to look at it as divine blessing.” Here we go, this you have to hear.
Curiously you ask, “Oh, yeah? And how do you figure that?”
“Es obvio, ¿no?” he gestures with a wave of one of his hands that he was using to rest his head on. “An angel is healing me.”
You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling, but there was no denying the warm flutter in your heart at his suave words. “Sweet talker.”
Luis doesn’t respond, but you can tell the man was grinning ear to ear from your remark. Aside from a few more Spanish curses and colorful complaints about the pain, the rest of the procedure went smoothly. Once the final stitch was made, you gently applied antibiotics over the freshly closed wound before covering it with a clean bandage. You notice the man shiver under your touch when you placed a hand upon his broad back to keep him steady.
“There. Now try to sit up. Slowly,” you sternly advised. “Don’t want you opening that up doing something insane.”
Luis mutters under his breath, “Supongo que no debería saltar sobre más gigantes…”
“What was that?”
“¡Nada!” He jolts upright into a seated position, wincing at the sudden move that surely aggravated his injury. You would have been incensed if you weren’t so concerned for his wellbeing. After a careful reassessment to ensure that the stitches didn’t tear under the cloth, you proceeded to secure them by rolling more bandages around his torso. Your hands glided against the firm muscles of his defined chest and back as you did this.
You stood within the cage of his legs as you worked and can feel the heavy weight of his eyes on you. There was a concentrated look you tried to maintain to quell the nervous energy beating inside at your close proximity to him, but it was a losing battle. Luis’ body was radiating with an inviting warmth and a musky spice that delightfully filled your senses. You want nothing more than to drown in him, but willed yourself to keep your distance, internally conceding to give him space to recover from his near-death experience.
“This is nice,” Luis comments, breaking the comfortable silence.
You meet his eyes with an inquisitive look. “You find receiving treatment from an almost fatal stab wound to be pleasant?”
“I was not stabbed, the knife was thrown. There is a difference.” the man corrected with snark grin and you would have returned the witty remark had he not continued with his line of thought aloud. “Just thinking that it’s been awhile since it was only the two of us. Leon is good company, mind you. Pero, uh, he lacks your appeal.”
A snort escapes you, secretly giddy from his praise. “Think you’re so charming, huh?”
Mild amusement glints his grey eyes. “Have I not been this entire time?”
You shrug playfully, “Your game could use a little work.”
He returns your jest with an exaggerated pout, “¡Ay, mi orgullo! Your words cut deeper than the knife that struck me.”
Your chest heaves in hearty laughter. You shouldn’t have found it hilarious, but Luis had this innate ability to make a grave situation something to poke fun about. It’s what makes him so endearing. While you try to catch your breath, you missed the look of pure adoration he wore as he took in the sight of your smiling face. His usual coy smirk gently curving into something softer. Eventually you finish patching him up and help him back into his shirt and jacket. The man grumbles that the fine leather was now ruined, earning you another heartfelt chuckle.
Once he was presentable, he beholds you , “Gracias. Guess, uh, I owe you one, ¿si?”
“Your life, I’d say.” you nod, tone cheeky and good-natured.
It was his turn to laugh under his breath. He takes your hand in his, relishing in the feeling of touching you again. Soft determination flashes in his gaze as he mentally mulled over your words with newfound hope.
“Take it then,” Luis says. “It’s yours.”
934 notes
·
View notes