[ One would think that after a year (a whole 365 days) of dating Balthus, that Hilda would have become immune to some of his quirks and dumb boy (or technically man, but he had the energy of a boy half his age) tendencies. After all, they had known each other most of their adolescent life. Her tolerance for Balthus-like antics were only bolstered by her exposure to Holst, who she realizes as she's grown older, is more like his best friend than she may have realized. They really were two sides of the same coin -- one just had better impulse control one (aka: Holst).
All of that is to say that Hilda is probably the expert when it comes to men and their dumb behaviours and she somehow still loves them for it. But today may be the day her patience is truly tested. Hilda doesn't think she asks for much (not entirely true since she's the first to admit she's spoiled), and doesn't expect him to remember the day of their first date. That alone had been confusing because he hadn't realized that it was a date at all until she had made it very clear to him towards the end. But she hopes that Balthus will at least remember the day they had made things official.
She hears the familiar boom of his voice from down the hall and unable to stop herself from waiting she rises from the table, hurrying across the grass to greet him. Behind her sits a lavish tea display overladen with all of their favourite pastries, cakes, and of course tea. She's taken particular care today to dress herself down to the perfume she's wearing and breaks out into a huge grin as he rounds the corner into the garden.
There's no real hint of scolding as she wraps her arms around his midsection and gazes up at him adoringly. ]
Baltie! What took you so long? The tea was getting cold.
[Making things official had been kind of muddy in its own right, from Balthus' perspective. He definitely did need to be told that their first real date was what it was, and once he was aware, he held very little back— but the months and years leading up to him becoming her guy had been full of moments where he filled the role unbidden, overprotective for reasons well beyond Holst's request that he keep an eye on her. It had just happened naturally, almost entirely without his noticing, but he doesn't regret a moment of it. If anything, sometimes he thinks maybe Hilda should have pointed it out sooner— but maybe, just maybe, things worked out exactly the way they were supposed to.
Whatever the case, it's been a hell of a year. When she asks him to meet for tea, he doesn't think anything of it, doesn't even consider that she's expecting him to have forgotten, but for all of his missteps and failings, there are some things that even Balthus von Albrecht can't mess up. He has something for her secured carefully in his back pocket, though he gives it little thought when she throws her arms around his middle. It's hard to think of anything else when she's looking at him like that, and he smiles down at her, his grin going from ear to ear.]
Sorry about that. Didn't mean to keep you waiting— I had to pick something up before meeting you.
[ It isn’t that Hilda expects him to forget. She’s just setting herself up for not being all that disappointed if that is the case. There’s been more than one occasion where she’s bemoaned about Balthus’ antics to Marianne, Claude, and Lorenz — but as they all remind her in their own ways, she is the one that chose him.
And that she had, or rather they had chosen each other. She had chosen to stay with him despite his love for brawling, drinking and gambling (his love for women, thankfully, had been directed solely towards her). And she had believed him when he said that he’d work hard to get his debts paid, acting as a firm but loving voice of reason when old habits reared their heads. They had lived through a war and knew better than to think that love was the only thing that gave a relationships longevity. The progress and growth they had made together only bolstered the love that had grown for him over the years. It helped that there were few other places that she felt safer than in his arms like this.
Hilda knows she isn’t without her flaws of course. She’s a creature of habit, a princess not in title but in behaviour, and her eyes light up teasingly hopeful at the mention of this something. She presses into him, mischievously knowing that he can’t resist the feeling of her when she does that. ]
Oh well if it’s something…What is it? Is it for me?
[Yeah, he could have predicted that answer word-for-word, and the open, deep-chested laugh that follows says so. They’d gone a lot of years without seeing one another between childhood and meeting again at the monastery a handful of years back, but there are some things about Hilda that have always been consistent.]
Come on, whaddya take me for?
[His grin hitches even wider, and something warm sparks within him as she presses against him, the way it always does. He drops an arm around her waist, his fingers curling against her bodice, and he reaches back towards his pocket with his free hand.]
I’d have to be an idiot to say something like that and have it not be for you.
[In her defense, he is, sometimes, an idiot. Very much so.]
[ The sound of Holst's booming laugh fills her with a warmth that she's become so accustomed to over the year they've been together. It makes her wonder why she hadn't chased after that feeling before. Despite that she clicks her tongue playfully. ]
It could have been for Holst. I wouldn't have been that upset if that had been the case.
[ Hilda can't help but point out the obvious. Despite having servants and carriers that could take care of those things, it wasn't out of the question for Holst to ask favours from his friends if he couldn't fulfill it himself or if he couldn't trust anyone else.
Now it's her time to play cluelessly coy. Despite that there's a very obvious spark of delight in her gaze brought on by hearing that he had, in fact, remembered what day it was. ]
Isn't it just another regular day? I don't need any occasion to dress up nicely or for you to bring me something after all.
[Wait a minute. This feels like a trap. He tips his head slightly, squinting one eye as he tries to read her expression.
Yeah, she's definitely playing coy. He knows her well enough to be able to tell, for the most part. He knows what a sincere Hilda Valentine Goneril looks and sounds like, and this isn't it— although she's clearly enjoying herself, whatever her aim.]
Come on! It's our anniversary. Pretty big deal, if you ask me.
[Mostly because it's with her, but long-term relationships generally weren't a thing in his life. He doesn't have a lot of experience in this area, but he's definitely enjoyed the opportunity for them to figure it out together.]
[ A giggle escapes her lips having been found out. Instead of pouting though, something that looks like pride glints in her mischievous eyes. Hilda knows that despite the many times she’s exasperatedly called Balthus dumb, she doesn’t actually think that (except for the moments when he’s interacting with Holst and then it really is like watching two brain cells having the time of their lives). Is he the cleverest person she knows? No, but brains don’t make a person any less loveable and it certainly doesn’t make her love him any less. ]
Is it really?
[ It’s impossible for her to keep the charade up. The coy mask dissolves as quickly as it arrived, and she’s giving him a huge squeeze, pressing herself into him. When she pulls back, the brilliant smile has less to do with the prospect of any present he’s promised and more to do with just how much she loves him. ]
I’m so glad you remembered, Baltie. I just can’t believe it’s been a whole year.
[He can't help but be pleased with himself as she pulls herself against him; she's met with both of his strong arms encircling her and giving her a secure but careful squeeze before she pulls back and he meets her grin with one of his own— he doesn't always get things right, but he's damn well determined to get today right, no matter what it takes.]
Flown by, huh? I mean, guess we've been pretty busy...
[There's the war and all, and everything stemming from that isn't exactly going to be tied up neatly with one of her fashionable little bows, but having each other makes a hell of a difference. He's practically beaming at her in response; it hadn't taken much for her to make an honest man out of him, in the end. He'd been stuck on her pretty damn quick, even if he hadn't realized it for awhile.]
Couldn't have asked to spend it with anyone better. So— ready for your present?
[He's going to guess yes. He can't imagine her waiting until after tea.]
[ Her lashes flutter playfully. Which is to say, yes of course she wants to see her present because more than the object itself, the anticipation of a present, the knowledge that someone had put thought into picking something just for her, fills her with joy.
Except over the year together, she has quietly come to realize that even if there is no present and it's just Balthus here in front of her, she would have been just as content. The year and time he had given her day after day had been gift enough and she hopes that it would remain that way for a very long time.
She doesn't pull away, arms still wrapped lovingly around him because being by him outweighs the prospect of holding a wrapped gift. Pink lips curve into an expectant, cheeky grin as she closes one eye. ]
Should I close my eyes? Cover them? Do you trust that I won't peek?
[To all of it, though her line of questioning gets a laugh out of him, loud and deep-chested as ever.]
I’m not completely without class. I wrapped it!
[Or more specifically, he had it wrapped, which is obvious enough when he pulls a little gift box out of the satchel that hangs from his belt, wrapped neatly in soft, rose-pink paper with gold trimmings. Whoever had handled it had far nimbler hands and a gentler touch than his; he knows full well he would have made a mess of it. He holds it out to her in offering, keeping one arm around her shoulders to keep her snuggled close.]
Here— open it. I don’t know about fashion the way you do, but I saw it and it made me think of you. Had to get it.
[When she does open the box, she’ll find a delicate bracelet of rose-gold links with leaves made of soft pink gems, designed to resemble a vine. Seemed fitting, for a self-proclaimed “delicate flower.”]
[ Making friends is easy for Hilda. It's not bragging, it's not her being full of herself, it's simply a fact. If her appearance isn't enough to draw the attention of those around her (pastel pink hair, sometimes verging on bright bubblegum pink if she's had it done recently is easy to pick out in a crowd), then her bubbly and cheerful demeanor is enough to have people flocking to her.
As a result she has no shortage of friends. That doesn't mean that she's the sort to say, "No new friends ever." Quite the opposite in fact. The more the merrier is more her motto and is more than happy to welcome a new one to the fold if she hits it off with them herself. That's why she doesn't blink so much of an eyelash when her off-hand comment to Wanda in what she would later find out is her twin brother's group fitness class, agrees to continue hanging out with her long after they decide to ditch said classes.
What she hadn't expected was to have as much fun as she did with the young woman or to have as many overlapping aspects of their life as they did. Their jobs overlapped (Wanda, an architect in a small but critically acclaimed architecture firm; Hilda, an interior designer who had become famous on social media for her eclectic but vibrant eye), they were both sisters, and they both loved exploring every nook and cranny that New York City had to offer. They had quickly taken to surprising one another with their adventures. On this particular bright autumn day, it's Wanda's turn and Hilda arrives (slightly) late to their appointed meeting spot dressed up and with not a hair out of place.
When she spots her friend she's quick to hurry the rest of the way to her, latching onto her arm with big puppy dog eyes. ]
Wanda, I'm sorry I'm a little late! You weren't waiting long, were you?
[it's not that wanda is trying to try very hard, but the impossibility of this newfound friendship that has blossomed into something that is otherwise quite refreshing and quite—well—new to her. hilda is cute, as her brother has pointed out, and wanda hasn't been able to rid herself of the word bouncing in her head any time she sees hilda.
especially now, giving her the big puppy dog eyes and latching onto her arm.]
Any longer and I might have started charging you per minute.
[she's also the more stoic one of the two, but a hand atop hilda's head to pat her down a few times brings forth a smile to her face.]
[ Her lower lip pushes out into an exaggerated pout as she presses at the head pat. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't do it thoroughly though.
Without her heels, Hilda is still shorter in comparison but she had chosen her shoe choice wisely today. It has less to do with any practical reason (ie. the length of time that they may spend walking on today's adventure, and everything to do with being shorter than Wanda. She enjoyed being able to look up at the woman and was coming to enjoy the way she tucked nicely into her side because who didn't enjoy that feeling with someone that they liked but also happened to find attractive? ]
I'd pay whatever I needed to if it meant making it up to you.
[ At the familiar joke, Hilda clicks her tongue. She steps back, intertwining their hands together so she spin Wanda around. ]
Stop that, I think you always look good. Look how cute that skirt is! And the sweater really brings out the highlights in your hair. [ By the time Wanda is back facing her, Hilda has a bright grin on her face. ] You look amazing, Wanda. You never have to worry about that.
[wanda spins around a little on her feet, letting hilda do as she wants, rolling her eyes when she comes to a stop again in facing the other woman, a small smile on her features.]
You’re laying it on too thick.
[all these compliments…
and yet, wanda doesn’t hesitate in leaving her hand right where it is—holding onto hilda’s own, as she starts leading the way.]
I was thinking we could go to a museum today. Peter Cook’s City Landscapes is being shown at the Guggenheim.
[and what is wanda if not pragmatic, wanting to enjoy something that she’d usually go to on her own with a friend? pietro is definitely not interested in it as much as she is, in the end.]
[ The small smile she spies on Wanda's face along with their fingers remaining tangled together fills her with a rush of warm happiness from head to toe. Giving her hand a squeeze she slides her a playful wink that hopefully doesn't diminish how sincere she is. Her voice has a teasing lilt to it as she falls in step beside Wanda. ]
I could lay it on thicker, actually. But I don't want to scare you off. I can't lose my new friend so soon.
[ Teasing gives way to delight upon hearing their plans. ]
I've been meaning to go! No wonder you chose here to meet. I should have known. Let me know how much I owe you for the tickets?
[she doesn’t do well with all the teasing, but she manages despite herself—just waving her free hand about to dismiss that subject of conversation entirely.]
It was actually Pietro who bought them.
[so, unless she wants to pay pietro…
but wanda has a good relationship with her brother; he buys her things, she buys things for him—it’s always a ‘sharing is caring’ kind of attitude at home.]
He got a bonus from his classes. Said he wanted me to enjoy the weekend.
[ Wanda not quite being able to handle the teasing is something that Hilda is quickly learning about, and unfortunately for the woman, it’s something that brings Hilda endless sources of joy. That being said, she knows there’s a fine art to the act of teasing affectionately and she drops it. There will be other times, after all.
Instead she presses lightly into Wanda’s side as they continue down the street. ]
I’m just flattered that you decided to pick lil’ ol’ me to spend the weekend with. It’s so sweet that he bought you the tickets. I’ll have to thank him the next time I see him then.
[ Knowing that source of the tickets doesn’t stop her from wanting to treat Wanda somehow though. ]
We should get food after the exhibit. You could have brought anyone up you brought me and that still deserves a thank you.
( it's in this moment that wanda realizes that hilda has the wrong impression about her—that perhaps she's quite the social butterfly pietro is, that she has a lot of friends to draw from. she has her work colleagues, but it hardly ever spills into her personal life; though she has friends in pietro's own, she definitely is the quieter one of the twins who prefers to spend evenings and weekends at home.
not that she 'chose' to invite hilda over a lack of want, though. )
You can choose the place. ( for the food they'll be getting. ) Just don't do something very expensive.
( 'thanks' or not, wanda doesn't want the other young woman to spend too much on her. )
—how did that renovation job at the Old House Café go, by the way?
[ But maybe she didn't have the wrong impression about Wanda. Even if someone weren't a social butterfly, that didn't mean that they didn't have plans. That didn't mean that they would want to spend it with other people let alone someone that they had met at a workout class.
Before Hilda can protest that she definitely wasn't going to pick somewhere expensive for dinner (she probably would have because that's simply how her tastes tended to skew), Wanda brings up a project that had been near and dear to her heart. It shows in the way that she practically lights up. ]
Really well! I had to pull an all-nighter to get the installation in because we received some of the last pieces at the eleventh hour which - [ She huffs at the thought because it was just last week that all of this had happened explaining her lack of response. ] don't get me started.
There was no way I could miss their soft launch! It's practically an institution in the city.
( it's almost imperceptible at first, but by the time hilda is done talking, wanda is smiling softly at the other young woman and her retelling of events—or as much as she is willing to put herself through to remember. it's not unusual, in this line of work, to find themselves working last minute due to others.
sometimes one has a solid team, sometimes — not so much. )
But you managed. Which is more than some people can say.
( in this city, it really feels like "do or die", and some people get eaten up under the expectations. )
[ It's not so much Wanda's compliment that disarms Hilda, tilting her slightly off centre, but the smile that she catches on her face. To say that it's rare to see a smile on the brunette's face might come across like an insult - but that's really what makes it all the more charming when it does happen.
With a little clear of her throat and a shake of her head she tries to play it off like she hadn't just been struck by the flutter of wings in her belly. ]
Oh, well you know. I'm not the first and I won't be the last.
[ The slight topic change is a blessing. She's quick to give Wanda's arm a squeeze as they cross the street, her grin bright. ]
I noticed that you liked them. I was honored, really. A heart from the Wanda Maximoff?
( wanda says, abashed, and wondering how it is that pietro manages to not succumb under the pressure of all the attention he craves and gets from adoring friends and acquaintances. wanda? she could never; she is already shying away and feeling a warmth in her cheeks at the less-than-subtle squeeze to her arm.
words seem to catch in her throat for a moment. )
Do you want to stop by the gift shop before we leave the exhibition, by the way? I hope they still have the sketch journals available.
If you're not a household name then I don't have followers into the millions.
[ Both are irrefutable facts in Hilda's mind. She leans closer, oblivious to the effect that it may have on Wanda, simply seeing it as a means of impressing upon her that she really does think highly of her and her talent.
Whether or not that resonates with her friend however is put to rest. At least for a little while. Her eyes light up. ]
If there's one thing you need to know about me it's that I love a gift shop. Of course we can go on our way out.
[ And it also provides a good way for her to repay her for snagging the tickets in the first place. Just as they're about to round a corner, a skateboarder whips out of nowhere. Hilda lets out a gasp, quickly drawing Wanda close by wrapping her arm around her waist. Her temper flares as she calls after the skateboarder. ]
Hey, watch where you're going! You almost knocked her over!
( wanda has lived a huge chunk of her life in new york, ever since her family migrated from sokovia when she was ten. this kind of busy hustle in the city and inconsiderate behavior is, in fact, not outside of the norm. it does catch her by surprise how tenacious and fierce hilda was, though.
woah—she finds herself muttering, glancing back at her pink-colored friend.
a little aimlessly, she puts a hand at hilda's back. )
No point in arguing with them. They'll speed their way all over the city.
( ...but, her heart is racing not because of the close call with injury. wanda pulls back a touch, brings her hand down the length of the arm hilda has wrapped around her waist. it's subtle but not subtle enough, how she ends up holding the other girl's hand, instead. )
[ Still riled up by the near miss, she doesn't quite register the hand at the small of her back. In fact her cheeks are still puffed up and furious even in the face of Wanda's very sound and logical reasoning.
She's lived here long enough to know this city and the people that lived there. Everyone was always on the move, and accidents happened. But that didn't mean they couldn't be courteous to everyone else around them.
Only when Wanda's hand slips into hers does she snap out of her huff. Colour had already dotted her cheeks thanks to her outburst, but this time it's all directed towards the feeling of Wanda's fingers threading through hers. She can't help the smile that grows on her face - a little shy, but no less sincere. ]
You're right. And that's definitely easier to do when the nice thing is you.
[ She tilts her head back in the direction they had been walking making no move to untangle their hands. ]
( —and they do, head in to the exhibit. wanda could never come to one of these things with pietro, as her brother would quickly grow bored of what there is, and, at least with hilda, wanda can enjoy things in a more... intellectual level.
it definitely helps that there's an emotional attachment to this.
past the exhibit and its gift shop and even the food lounge, a heavy storm catches them halfway on their way back to their respective homes—thunder and all! hilda's place is closest, so they decide to take shelter there until the skies ease up on the downpour.
pietro informed, dry clothes borrowed, and incoming cup of tea—is it any surprise that wanda falls loosely on the side of the cozy couch, arms crossed, into a light sleep? it's been a long day and a longer week still, even if her schedule for deadlines hasn't been as crazy as hilda's. she just has trouble sleeping on a regular schedule, is all.
and that's how hilda will find her, quiet snores against a cushion as she presses her face into it. )
[ The exhibit is nothing short of impressive and everything she had hoped for - probably made even more wonderful by the company. The weather had been less than ideal, but she had learned how to dance even in the face of a downpour, and this is no exception to that. But she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't thankful that her apartment is close by and a convenient, cozy shelter from the storm.
It's the first time she's invited Wanda over and that fact isn't lost on her. Thankfully she'd had the foresight to clean that weekend, not because she expected company, but because she had finally grown sick of her own mess. What Wanda sees is the best version of Hilda's apartment - bright pops of colour, maximalist by every definition of the word, but very much the home of an interior designer who had reached not only industry fame but social media fame as well.
A shower isn't necessarily needed, but Hilda needs a moment to cover the nerves that had suddenly appeared when faced with the reality of Wanda possibly staying the night. The nice thing about having company over that she wants to make a good impression for (and the fact that the kettle is on), means that her normally long showers are kept succinct. When she emerges with mostly dry hair and in a cozy pajama set with slippers on her feet she immediately heads to the kitchen to check on their tea.
She doesn't expect to see Wanda curled up on the couch fast asleep but when she's confronted with the sight she can't help but linger in the entranceway, admiring the way that the lighting casts gentle shadows on her face. With care she places the mugs on the table, before kneeling beside the couch. Instinct has her reaching out to rouse her, but as she's crouched there, she can't help but lightly brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, admiring the gentle flutter of Wanda's lashes with the faintest smile on her face. ]
(because she is prone in having trouble sleeping, wanda finds herself unable to fall into a deep sleep. it's fine and all, until she gets the feeling that she is being watched, or that there is someone nearby. year of living in sokovia during the worst of the civil unrest has ruined the mechanism of her circadian rhythm—both for her and pietro.
the feather-light touch of hilda's hand on the loose strand of hair has wanda blinking awake, feeling embarrassed as realization dawns on her of the circumstances. )
Sorry—
( she starts, mumbled, while sitting up and pressing knuckles onto her cheek (thankful that she wasn't drooling). )
[ The moment Wanda's eyes flutter, Hilda's hand draws back but she isn't quite quick enough to move away. Not because she doesn't possess the reflexes for it but because she's also tripped up by her embarrassment, the realization that she and Wanda's faces are closer than they've been before.
There's a distinct beat where Hilda hesitates and nearly doesn't get out of the way in time for Wanda to sit up. Thankfully she recovers as smoothly as she can. She's quick to join her on the couch with a laugh. ]
Why are you apologizing, silly? I should be the one apologizing for waking you up. I think it was about as long as I was in the shower so not that long.
[ She reaches out for the mug on the table, holding it out to Wanda, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than they should before reaching for her own. There's a teasing grin on her face. ]
Who knew museums would be more tiring than Pietro's workout classes?
( wanda gratefully reaches for the mug, holding it in her hands. )
He made me jog this morning with him, ( she starts to complain, mumbled, ) because he said I missed too many of his classes.
( there is something about the twins, of how close they are, and just how overprotective pietro is of her. in his own way, he's trying to look after her, make sure she gets in her cardio; he is the type of person that thinks jogging can cure any malaise.
she sighs softly into the brim of the cup, and takes a quick sip, glancing out the window. )
[ The high of a successful play, and one that was so well-received too, would leave anyone god or mortal euphoric. The effort she had poured into it to ensure that Ed's story was given the effort it deserved and more would have run a mortal into the ground. Thankfully Valentine was not that. Gods have no need for sleep.
Instead she felt like she had creative energy to burn. It pours off her in waves, leaving her skin luminous, her eyes sparkling, pink hair shiny and soft. Her human disguise is shed leaving behind her feathers and the sea inspired dress decadent in pearls and silks that shone and moved like the ocean underneath. Had Alucard not suggested that he had a surprise for her she probably would have taken off in flight in order to burn off some of that energy, or found a mortal in need of an echo answered. She could still do the latter and probably should if history has taught her anything. But spending time with Alucard - that was a much better alternative.
When they finally arrive at the Old Public Hall, Valentine casts him a curious glance but in the end acquiesces to his request to cover her eyes. Her wings fold demurely across them as she's led up the stairs that she knows like the back of her hand.
They cross the threshold to her old office and she hears the door shut softly behind them. ]
You've been awfully secretive the entire time. Can I open my eyes now?
[Alucard has decided he has no particular opinion on the play itself, because he's still processing what exactly he just witnessed. He is, however, very pleased that the ability of the flood gates to fill up and hold water during the naval battles worked as well as it had in all test runs. Better even, because in sitting among the people in the crowd rather than the deities just out of sight, the excitement and wonder was palpable. There is a joy in the wave of how did they do that? that confirms Alucard executed what he intended perfectly.
He waved off celebrations with the architecture firm he works for in order to co-mingle with those just out of sight, paying the appropriate congratulations to Hilda and Ed and all those involved in the production itself. He had no doubt that the adrenaline of the night would still be with those most entangled, and watching Hilda buzz and buzz only confirms it.
The stairs are quiet as ever, meant to make no noise as not to interrupt the performances.]
First of all, I have not. You've been busy and I've had other commissions to work on. [Admittedly, he doesn't know if Hilda clocked his sneaking out earlier.] But yes, please feel free.
[Alucard leans against the doorway, permitting Hilda to take everything in. On the desk is a grand bouquet in shades of pink, white, and soft purple, composed of summer sweet, hydrangea, and anemones. The theme continues on smaller flat surfaces, with small pots on bookshelves, side tables, wherever possible. On the coffee table in front of the sofa is shallow water tank of more hydrangea, creating a floating arrangement.]
[ The sight before her is immaculate. She's seen shrines made out to her before, some of them grander than this, some with far more blooms than she could count. But none had ever been erected in her old office. Granted, it had been kept preserved as a museum of sorts to her, but that didn't make it any less hers. The memories of time spent here - sleeping, working, creating - don't feel like they've faded with time when they're here.
Taking tentative steps into the space marvel and awe is written across her face. Her hand still tangled in his has her pulling him along. When she turns back towards him, her eyes shine in adoration. After a moment she reaches her other hand up towards his cheek to bring him down to kiss him. When they part she presses her head against his, looking up from beneath her lashes at him adoringly. ]
Adrian. This is beautiful. Thank you. [ And then teasingly - ] Did Ed get the same treatment? Is that where you're going after this?
[Alucard lets himself be dragged, although it isn't as if the office is that large. His eyes don't go to his own handiwork of course, he knows every inch of the work done. Instead he focuses on Hilda as she takes it all in, standing there in glittering garments and riding the thrilling high of a successful first performance that has surprised moral and long-lived aike.
The kiss is sweet and loving. He smiles softly when Hilda's head presses against his.]
Oh, I left a floating arrangement for him. It'd be rude to gift something to you and not to him since this is a joint venture.
[The hand that isn't holding Hilda's moves to rest on her hip gently.]
Clearly you didn't see me sneak off to put all of this together during the rounds and rounds of congratulations you were being given.
[ Hilda's friends being treated well by her partners hadn't been something that she had thought was important to her until as of late. And yet the knowledge that Alucard had done just that brings more warmth to her expression than before if that's even possible. Instinctively she leans into his touch, the coolness of his skin a pleasant sensation against hers. ]
I didn't. But we all move fast nowadays and it's not like I can just poof away when I'm in my human persona.
[ Quietly she threads her fingers through his so they both lay at her hip. The hand cupping his cheek slowly moves down the back of his neck to rest there. ]
I'm going to have to bring these back to the loft with me later.
[Alucard is fairly sure he's mentioned some of the particular growing pains of being a dhampir, such as learning to float in a home with very high ceilings. (He got stuck. And then had to have a tether during the daytime until he got it under control.)]
I'll admit, I was banking on that. [His smile isn't smug, but the touch of smug lingers in his voice.] I'll help move them whenever you think you're ready for them to leave. I've warded the building until late in the morning tomorrow.
[Not that most of the office employees show up until after 10 anyway. Usually closer to 11. A venue with late nights does not need to be up with the sun.
With their fingers threaded together, Alucard gives a gentle squeeze to Hilda's hip. They dig into her side just a hair, gentle with a pointed undercurrent.]
Still riding the high of a successful opening night?
Even if you were fully raised in a belfry, I think you'd still be well adjusted.
[ Her fondness basically shines off of her as the fingers at the back of her neck play idly with his hair. For what isn't the first time, she wishes that she could have seen a younger Alucard. It's been so long since she's viewed him as some stoic artsy sort, but the thought of a gangly, awkward young dhampir is an endearing.
Something sparks beneath the fondness, something a little more hungry at the news that the Old Public Hall had been warded. ]
Is it obvious? [ She leans into his touch, collecting more hair in her fingers to tug lightly. ] Any ideas on how to deal with that?
You're so generous with your definition of well adjusted.
[Alucard grins, but only because they both know he's been a mess at various point in time in Abraxas. He might react stronger if Hilda wasn't playing with his hair, or if her mood didn't shift in the exact what he had hoped it would.
The answer is given in a kiss - one that matches the hunger in her voice and then dares to push it a little bit further, all full throated and risking fangs into the equation. Alucard's free hand moves low beyond Hilda's waist, shameless in how it grabs at her rear and fails to consider the fabric of her dress at all. Usually he makes an attempt.]
[ The smart reply that she has on her lips is abruptly cut off when Alucard’s lips meet hers. Instead of words, a pleased hum vibrates from the back of her throat as she presses into him.
She can still recall the days when they had first begun to explore whatever this was between them. How careful he had always been about navigating the matter of his fangs. They had become more bold after they had become gods. The slight nick of skin was inconsequential to her; feeling the light scrape of fang against her lips sends a shiver down her spine. That electric feeling is sent right back up as soon as he grasps at her ass.
She grins against him, breaking the kiss only so she can press fluttery, warm kisses to his throat. ]
I think I might need a more obvious answer for your suggestion. I’m not sure it was very clear.
I already thought I was being the opposite of subtle. Let me think then--
[Alucard's definition of thinking, in the moment, involves letting his head loll off to the side to expose even more throat for Hilda to kiss. He has never hid how much that particular spot gives him pleasure, nor has he not allowed jokes about it. Of course the vampire likes attention to his neck.
But this isn't about him, not tonight. The theater was for Ed and for Hilda, Alucard's presence at the truly ridiculous play was for them both as well, but the success and celebration means the evening is fully catered to her. Alucard's dressed himself well enough to fit in with his very mortal construction firm, but.
There were considerations. One that Alucard shamelessly guides one of Hilda's hands towards now, aware that there's no elegant way to let his (now) already low rise trousers ride even lower. Instead he shifts his weight ever so slightly so that the top of his undergarment peaks out. In brushing her fingers over that very tiny peak, it is clear that the dhampir has something with lace on underneath, and all the other implications that carries.
Spoiling Hilda takes many forms, but only a fool forgets to consider the dress code.]
— open memes
♡ shipping picture prompts
♡ the rain
( last updated: ages ago oops )
firsts meme — for grappleking
All of that is to say that Hilda is probably the expert when it comes to men and their dumb behaviours and she somehow still loves them for it. But today may be the day her patience is truly tested. Hilda doesn't think she asks for much (not entirely true since she's the first to admit she's spoiled), and doesn't expect him to remember the day of their first date. That alone had been confusing because he hadn't realized that it was a date at all until she had made it very clear to him towards the end. But she hopes that Balthus will at least remember the day they had made things official.
She hears the familiar boom of his voice from down the hall and unable to stop herself from waiting she rises from the table, hurrying across the grass to greet him. Behind her sits a lavish tea display overladen with all of their favourite pastries, cakes, and of course tea. She's taken particular care today to dress herself down to the perfume she's wearing and breaks out into a huge grin as he rounds the corner into the garden.
There's no real hint of scolding as she wraps her arms around his midsection and gazes up at him adoringly. ]
Baltie! What took you so long? The tea was getting cold.
yeah yeah yeah!
Whatever the case, it's been a hell of a year. When she asks him to meet for tea, he doesn't think anything of it, doesn't even consider that she's expecting him to have forgotten, but for all of his missteps and failings, there are some things that even Balthus von Albrecht can't mess up. He has something for her secured carefully in his back pocket, though he gives it little thought when she throws her arms around his middle. It's hard to think of anything else when she's looking at him like that, and he smiles down at her, his grin going from ear to ear.]
Sorry about that. Didn't mean to keep you waiting— I had to pick something up before meeting you.
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And that she had, or rather they had chosen each other. She had chosen to stay with him despite his love for brawling, drinking and gambling (his love for women, thankfully, had been directed solely towards her). And she had believed him when he said that he’d work hard to get his debts paid, acting as a firm but loving voice of reason when old habits reared their heads. They had lived through a war and knew better than to think that love was the only thing that gave a relationships longevity. The progress and growth they had made together only bolstered the love that had grown for him over the years. It helped that there were few other places that she felt safer than in his arms like this.
Hilda knows she isn’t without her flaws of course. She’s a creature of habit, a princess not in title but in behaviour, and her eyes light up teasingly hopeful at the mention of this something. She presses into him, mischievously knowing that he can’t resist the feeling of her when she does that. ]
Oh well if it’s something…What is it? Is it for me?
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Come on, whaddya take me for?
[His grin hitches even wider, and something warm sparks within him as she presses against him, the way it always does. He drops an arm around her waist, his fingers curling against her bodice, and he reaches back towards his pocket with his free hand.]
I’d have to be an idiot to say something like that and have it not be for you.
[In her defense, he is, sometimes, an idiot. Very much so.]
You think I don’t know what today is?
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It could have been for Holst. I wouldn't have been that upset if that had been the case.
[ Hilda can't help but point out the obvious. Despite having servants and carriers that could take care of those things, it wasn't out of the question for Holst to ask favours from his friends if he couldn't fulfill it himself or if he couldn't trust anyone else.
Now it's her time to play cluelessly coy. Despite that there's a very obvious spark of delight in her gaze brought on by hearing that he had, in fact, remembered what day it was. ]
Isn't it just another regular day? I don't need any occasion to dress up nicely or for you to bring me something after all.
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[Wait a minute. This feels like a trap. He tips his head slightly, squinting one eye as he tries to read her expression.
Yeah, she's definitely playing coy. He knows her well enough to be able to tell, for the most part. He knows what a sincere Hilda Valentine Goneril looks and sounds like, and this isn't it— although she's clearly enjoying herself, whatever her aim.]
Come on! It's our anniversary. Pretty big deal, if you ask me.
[Mostly because it's with her, but long-term relationships generally weren't a thing in his life. He doesn't have a lot of experience in this area, but he's definitely enjoyed the opportunity for them to figure it out together.]
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Is it really?
[ It’s impossible for her to keep the charade up. The coy mask dissolves as quickly as it arrived, and she’s giving him a huge squeeze, pressing herself into him. When she pulls back, the brilliant smile has less to do with the prospect of any present he’s promised and more to do with just how much she loves him. ]
I’m so glad you remembered, Baltie. I just can’t believe it’s been a whole year.
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Flown by, huh? I mean, guess we've been pretty busy...
[There's the war and all, and everything stemming from that isn't exactly going to be tied up neatly with one of her fashionable little bows, but having each other makes a hell of a difference. He's practically beaming at her in response; it hadn't taken much for her to make an honest man out of him, in the end. He'd been stuck on her pretty damn quick, even if he hadn't realized it for awhile.]
Couldn't have asked to spend it with anyone better. So— ready for your present?
[He's going to guess yes. He can't imagine her waiting until after tea.]
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[ Her lashes flutter playfully. Which is to say, yes of course she wants to see her present because more than the object itself, the anticipation of a present, the knowledge that someone had put thought into picking something just for her, fills her with joy.
Except over the year together, she has quietly come to realize that even if there is no present and it's just Balthus here in front of her, she would have been just as content. The year and time he had given her day after day had been gift enough and she hopes that it would remain that way for a very long time.
She doesn't pull away, arms still wrapped lovingly around him because being by him outweighs the prospect of holding a wrapped gift. Pink lips curve into an expectant, cheeky grin as she closes one eye. ]
Should I close my eyes? Cover them? Do you trust that I won't peek?
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[To all of it, though her line of questioning gets a laugh out of him, loud and deep-chested as ever.]
I’m not completely without class. I wrapped it!
[Or more specifically, he had it wrapped, which is obvious enough when he pulls a little gift box out of the satchel that hangs from his belt, wrapped neatly in soft, rose-pink paper with gold trimmings. Whoever had handled it had far nimbler hands and a gentler touch than his; he knows full well he would have made a mess of it. He holds it out to her in offering, keeping one arm around her shoulders to keep her snuggled close.]
Here— open it. I don’t know about fashion the way you do, but I saw it and it made me think of you. Had to get it.
[When she does open the box, she’ll find a delicate bracelet of rose-gold links with leaves made of soft pink gems, designed to resemble a vine. Seemed fitting, for a self-proclaimed “delicate flower.”]
surely you're my destiny, nyc au — for deslumbra
As a result she has no shortage of friends. That doesn't mean that she's the sort to say, "No new friends ever." Quite the opposite in fact. The more the merrier is more her motto and is more than happy to welcome a new one to the fold if she hits it off with them herself. That's why she doesn't blink so much of an eyelash when her off-hand comment to Wanda in what she would later find out is her twin brother's group fitness class, agrees to continue hanging out with her long after they decide to ditch said classes.
What she hadn't expected was to have as much fun as she did with the young woman or to have as many overlapping aspects of their life as they did. Their jobs overlapped (Wanda, an architect in a small but critically acclaimed architecture firm; Hilda, an interior designer who had become famous on social media for her eclectic but vibrant eye), they were both sisters, and they both loved exploring every nook and cranny that New York City had to offer. They had quickly taken to surprising one another with their adventures. On this particular bright autumn day, it's Wanda's turn and Hilda arrives (slightly) late to their appointed meeting spot dressed up and with not a hair out of place.
When she spots her friend she's quick to hurry the rest of the way to her, latching onto her arm with big puppy dog eyes. ]
Wanda, I'm sorry I'm a little late! You weren't waiting long, were you?
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especially now, giving her the big puppy dog eyes and latching onto her arm.]
Any longer and I might have started charging you per minute.
[she's also the more stoic one of the two, but a hand atop hilda's head to pat her down a few times brings forth a smile to her face.]
I always feel so underdressed around you.
[the usual joke between them]
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Without her heels, Hilda is still shorter in comparison but she had chosen her shoe choice wisely today. It has less to do with any practical reason (ie. the length of time that they may spend walking on today's adventure, and everything to do with being shorter than Wanda. She enjoyed being able to look up at the woman and was coming to enjoy the way she tucked nicely into her side because who didn't enjoy that feeling with someone that they liked but also happened to find attractive? ]
I'd pay whatever I needed to if it meant making it up to you.
[ At the familiar joke, Hilda clicks her tongue. She steps back, intertwining their hands together so she spin Wanda around. ]
Stop that, I think you always look good. Look how cute that skirt is! And the sweater really brings out the highlights in your hair. [ By the time Wanda is back facing her, Hilda has a bright grin on her face. ] You look amazing, Wanda. You never have to worry about that.
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You’re laying it on too thick.
[all these compliments…
and yet, wanda doesn’t hesitate in leaving her hand right where it is—holding onto hilda’s own, as she starts leading the way.]
I was thinking we could go to a museum today. Peter Cook’s City Landscapes is being shown at the Guggenheim.
[and what is wanda if not pragmatic, wanting to enjoy something that she’d usually go to on her own with a friend? pietro is definitely not interested in it as much as she is, in the end.]
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[ The small smile she spies on Wanda's face along with their fingers remaining tangled together fills her with a rush of warm happiness from head to toe. Giving her hand a squeeze she slides her a playful wink that hopefully doesn't diminish how sincere she is. Her voice has a teasing lilt to it as she falls in step beside Wanda. ]
I could lay it on thicker, actually. But I don't want to scare you off. I can't lose my new friend so soon.
[ Teasing gives way to delight upon hearing their plans. ]
I've been meaning to go! No wonder you chose here to meet. I should have known. Let me know how much I owe you for the tickets?
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It was actually Pietro who bought them.
[so, unless she wants to pay pietro…
but wanda has a good relationship with her brother; he buys her things, she buys things for him—it’s always a ‘sharing is caring’ kind of attitude at home.]
He got a bonus from his classes. Said he wanted me to enjoy the weekend.
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Instead she presses lightly into Wanda’s side as they continue down the street. ]
I’m just flattered that you decided to pick lil’ ol’ me to spend the weekend with. It’s so sweet that he bought you the tickets. I’ll have to thank him the next time I see him then.
[ Knowing that source of the tickets doesn’t stop her from wanting to treat Wanda somehow though. ]
We should get food after the exhibit. You could have brought anyone up you brought me and that still deserves a thank you.
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not that she 'chose' to invite hilda over a lack of want, though. )
You can choose the place. ( for the food they'll be getting. ) Just don't do something very expensive.
( 'thanks' or not, wanda doesn't want the other young woman to spend too much on her. )
—how did that renovation job at the Old House Café go, by the way?
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Before Hilda can protest that she definitely wasn't going to pick somewhere expensive for dinner (she probably would have because that's simply how her tastes tended to skew), Wanda brings up a project that had been near and dear to her heart. It shows in the way that she practically lights up. ]
Really well! I had to pull an all-nighter to get the installation in because we received some of the last pieces at the eleventh hour which - [ She huffs at the thought because it was just last week that all of this had happened explaining her lack of response. ] don't get me started.
There was no way I could miss their soft launch! It's practically an institution in the city.
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sometimes one has a solid team, sometimes — not so much. )
But you managed. Which is more than some people can say.
( in this city, it really feels like "do or die", and some people get eaten up under the expectations. )
I saw your posts about it.
( on social media. and liked them. )
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With a little clear of her throat and a shake of her head she tries to play it off like she hadn't just been struck by the flutter of wings in her belly. ]
Oh, well you know. I'm not the first and I won't be the last.
[ The slight topic change is a blessing. She's quick to give Wanda's arm a squeeze as they cross the street, her grin bright. ]
I noticed that you liked them. I was honored, really. A heart from the Wanda Maximoff?
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( wanda says, abashed, and wondering how it is that pietro manages to not succumb under the pressure of all the attention he craves and gets from adoring friends and acquaintances. wanda? she could never; she is already shying away and feeling a warmth in her cheeks at the less-than-subtle squeeze to her arm.
words seem to catch in her throat for a moment. )
Do you want to stop by the gift shop before we leave the exhibition, by the way? I hope they still have the sketch journals available.
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[ Both are irrefutable facts in Hilda's mind. She leans closer, oblivious to the effect that it may have on Wanda, simply seeing it as a means of impressing upon her that she really does think highly of her and her talent.
Whether or not that resonates with her friend however is put to rest. At least for a little while. Her eyes light up. ]
If there's one thing you need to know about me it's that I love a gift shop. Of course we can go on our way out.
[ And it also provides a good way for her to repay her for snagging the tickets in the first place. Just as they're about to round a corner, a skateboarder whips out of nowhere. Hilda lets out a gasp, quickly drawing Wanda close by wrapping her arm around her waist. Her temper flares as she calls after the skateboarder. ]
Hey, watch where you're going! You almost knocked her over!
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woah—she finds herself muttering, glancing back at her pink-colored friend.
a little aimlessly, she puts a hand at hilda's back. )
No point in arguing with them. They'll speed their way all over the city.
( ...but, her heart is racing not because of the close call with injury. wanda pulls back a touch, brings her hand down the length of the arm hilda has wrapped around her waist. it's subtle but not subtle enough, how she ends up holding the other girl's hand, instead. )
Just focus on — nicer things.
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She's lived here long enough to know this city and the people that lived there. Everyone was always on the move, and accidents happened. But that didn't mean they couldn't be courteous to everyone else around them.
Only when Wanda's hand slips into hers does she snap out of her huff. Colour had already dotted her cheeks thanks to her outburst, but this time it's all directed towards the feeling of Wanda's fingers threading through hers. She can't help the smile that grows on her face - a little shy, but no less sincere. ]
You're right. And that's definitely easier to do when the nice thing is you.
[ She tilts her head back in the direction they had been walking making no move to untangle their hands. ]
Shall we?
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it definitely helps that there's an emotional attachment to this.
past the exhibit and its gift shop and even the food lounge, a heavy storm catches them halfway on their way back to their respective homes—thunder and all! hilda's place is closest, so they decide to take shelter there until the skies ease up on the downpour.
pietro informed, dry clothes borrowed, and incoming cup of tea—is it any surprise that wanda falls loosely on the side of the cozy couch, arms crossed, into a light sleep? it's been a long day and a longer week still, even if her schedule for deadlines hasn't been as crazy as hilda's. she just has trouble sleeping on a regular schedule, is all.
and that's how hilda will find her, quiet snores against a cushion as she presses her face into it. )
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It's the first time she's invited Wanda over and that fact isn't lost on her. Thankfully she'd had the foresight to clean that weekend, not because she expected company, but because she had finally grown sick of her own mess. What Wanda sees is the best version of Hilda's apartment - bright pops of colour, maximalist by every definition of the word, but very much the home of an interior designer who had reached not only industry fame but social media fame as well.
A shower isn't necessarily needed, but Hilda needs a moment to cover the nerves that had suddenly appeared when faced with the reality of Wanda possibly staying the night. The nice thing about having company over that she wants to make a good impression for (and the fact that the kettle is on), means that her normally long showers are kept succinct. When she emerges with mostly dry hair and in a cozy pajama set with slippers on her feet she immediately heads to the kitchen to check on their tea.
She doesn't expect to see Wanda curled up on the couch fast asleep but when she's confronted with the sight she can't help but linger in the entranceway, admiring the way that the lighting casts gentle shadows on her face. With care she places the mugs on the table, before kneeling beside the couch. Instinct has her reaching out to rouse her, but as she's crouched there, she can't help but lightly brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, admiring the gentle flutter of Wanda's lashes with the faintest smile on her face. ]
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the feather-light touch of hilda's hand on the loose strand of hair has wanda blinking awake, feeling embarrassed as realization dawns on her of the circumstances. )
Sorry—
( she starts, mumbled, while sitting up and pressing knuckles onto her cheek (thankful that she wasn't drooling). )
How long was I out for?
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There's a distinct beat where Hilda hesitates and nearly doesn't get out of the way in time for Wanda to sit up. Thankfully she recovers as smoothly as she can. She's quick to join her on the couch with a laugh. ]
Why are you apologizing, silly? I should be the one apologizing for waking you up. I think it was about as long as I was in the shower so not that long.
[ She reaches out for the mug on the table, holding it out to Wanda, her fingers lingering for a moment longer than they should before reaching for her own. There's a teasing grin on her face. ]
Who knew museums would be more tiring than Pietro's workout classes?
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He made me jog this morning with him, ( she starts to complain, mumbled, ) because he said I missed too many of his classes.
( there is something about the twins, of how close they are, and just how overprotective pietro is of her. in his own way, he's trying to look after her, make sure she gets in her cardio; he is the type of person that thinks jogging can cure any malaise.
she sighs softly into the brim of the cup, and takes a quick sip, glancing out the window. )
Doesn't look like it'll stop any time soon.
— cryptsleeper / god au
Instead she felt like she had creative energy to burn. It pours off her in waves, leaving her skin luminous, her eyes sparkling, pink hair shiny and soft. Her human disguise is shed leaving behind her feathers and the sea inspired dress decadent in pearls and silks that shone and moved like the ocean underneath. Had Alucard not suggested that he had a surprise for her she probably would have taken off in flight in order to burn off some of that energy, or found a mortal in need of an echo answered. She could still do the latter and probably should if history has taught her anything. But spending time with Alucard - that was a much better alternative.
When they finally arrive at the Old Public Hall, Valentine casts him a curious glance but in the end acquiesces to his request to cover her eyes. Her wings fold demurely across them as she's led up the stairs that she knows like the back of her hand.
They cross the threshold to her old office and she hears the door shut softly behind them. ]
You've been awfully secretive the entire time. Can I open my eyes now?
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He waved off celebrations with the architecture firm he works for in order to co-mingle with those just out of sight, paying the appropriate congratulations to Hilda and Ed and all those involved in the production itself. He had no doubt that the adrenaline of the night would still be with those most entangled, and watching Hilda buzz and buzz only confirms it.
The stairs are quiet as ever, meant to make no noise as not to interrupt the performances.]
First of all, I have not. You've been busy and I've had other commissions to work on. [Admittedly, he doesn't know if Hilda clocked his sneaking out earlier.] But yes, please feel free.
[Alucard leans against the doorway, permitting Hilda to take everything in. On the desk is a grand bouquet in shades of pink, white, and soft purple, composed of summer sweet, hydrangea, and anemones. The theme continues on smaller flat surfaces, with small pots on bookshelves, side tables, wherever possible. On the coffee table in front of the sofa is shallow water tank of more hydrangea, creating a floating arrangement.]
Congratulations on a successful opening night.
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Taking tentative steps into the space marvel and awe is written across her face. Her hand still tangled in his has her pulling him along. When she turns back towards him, her eyes shine in adoration. After a moment she reaches her other hand up towards his cheek to bring him down to kiss him. When they part she presses her head against his, looking up from beneath her lashes at him adoringly. ]
Adrian. This is beautiful. Thank you. [ And then teasingly - ] Did Ed get the same treatment? Is that where you're going after this?
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The kiss is sweet and loving. He smiles softly when Hilda's head presses against his.]
Oh, I left a floating arrangement for him. It'd be rude to gift something to you and not to him since this is a joint venture.
[The hand that isn't holding Hilda's moves to rest on her hip gently.]
Clearly you didn't see me sneak off to put all of this together during the rounds and rounds of congratulations you were being given.
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[ Hilda's friends being treated well by her partners hadn't been something that she had thought was important to her until as of late. And yet the knowledge that Alucard had done just that brings more warmth to her expression than before if that's even possible. Instinctively she leans into his touch, the coolness of his skin a pleasant sensation against hers. ]
I didn't. But we all move fast nowadays and it's not like I can just poof away when I'm in my human persona.
[ Quietly she threads her fingers through his so they both lay at her hip. The hand cupping his cheek slowly moves down the back of his neck to rest there. ]
I'm going to have to bring these back to the loft with me later.
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[Alucard is fairly sure he's mentioned some of the particular growing pains of being a dhampir, such as learning to float in a home with very high ceilings. (He got stuck. And then had to have a tether during the daytime until he got it under control.)]
I'll admit, I was banking on that. [His smile isn't smug, but the touch of smug lingers in his voice.] I'll help move them whenever you think you're ready for them to leave. I've warded the building until late in the morning tomorrow.
[Not that most of the office employees show up until after 10 anyway. Usually closer to 11. A venue with late nights does not need to be up with the sun.
With their fingers threaded together, Alucard gives a gentle squeeze to Hilda's hip. They dig into her side just a hair, gentle with a pointed undercurrent.]
Still riding the high of a successful opening night?
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[ Her fondness basically shines off of her as the fingers at the back of her neck play idly with his hair. For what isn't the first time, she wishes that she could have seen a younger Alucard. It's been so long since she's viewed him as some stoic artsy sort, but the thought of a gangly, awkward young dhampir is an endearing.
Something sparks beneath the fondness, something a little more hungry at the news that the Old Public Hall had been warded. ]
Is it obvious? [ She leans into his touch, collecting more hair in her fingers to tug lightly. ] Any ideas on how to deal with that?
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[Alucard grins, but only because they both know he's been a mess at various point in time in Abraxas. He might react stronger if Hilda wasn't playing with his hair, or if her mood didn't shift in the exact what he had hoped it would.
The answer is given in a kiss - one that matches the hunger in her voice and then dares to push it a little bit further, all full throated and risking fangs into the equation. Alucard's free hand moves low beyond Hilda's waist, shameless in how it grabs at her rear and fails to consider the fabric of her dress at all. Usually he makes an attempt.]
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She can still recall the days when they had first begun to explore whatever this was between them. How careful he had always been about navigating the matter of his fangs. They had become more bold after they had become gods. The slight nick of skin was inconsequential to her; feeling the light scrape of fang against her lips sends a shiver down her spine. That electric feeling is sent right back up as soon as he grasps at her ass.
She grins against him, breaking the kiss only so she can press fluttery, warm kisses to his throat. ]
I think I might need a more obvious answer for your suggestion. I’m not sure it was very clear.
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[Alucard's definition of thinking, in the moment, involves letting his head loll off to the side to expose even more throat for Hilda to kiss. He has never hid how much that particular spot gives him pleasure, nor has he not allowed jokes about it. Of course the vampire likes attention to his neck.
But this isn't about him, not tonight. The theater was for Ed and for Hilda, Alucard's presence at the truly ridiculous play was for them both as well, but the success and celebration means the evening is fully catered to her. Alucard's dressed himself well enough to fit in with his very mortal construction firm, but.
There were considerations. One that Alucard shamelessly guides one of Hilda's hands towards now, aware that there's no elegant way to let his (now) already low rise trousers ride even lower. Instead he shifts his weight ever so slightly so that the top of his undergarment peaks out. In brushing her fingers over that very tiny peak, it is clear that the dhampir has something with lace on underneath, and all the other implications that carries.
Spoiling Hilda takes many forms, but only a fool forgets to consider the dress code.]