[ Xander Lycus | Male | Homeowner | Aro aego[bi]sexual | Tagged: ]
- The crackle of the wood in the fireplace and the steady warmth had lulled Xander into a light doze. He lay on the couch, lazily waiting for three o'clock. One hand was draped across his chest and his eye was closed - he wore a black silk eye patch over the other. Then, an involuntary movement of his arm interrupted his fleeting dreams, which hadn't yet begun to make solid sense yet. He was jolted back to consciousness and sat up, startled by the suddenness of it. He looked around, but quickly decided that his surroundings were familiar and lifted his right hand to check his watch. Eight minutes had passed. Letting out a disappointed grunt, Xander collapsed backward onto the soft couch, his head thudding on the arm of it; though, it didn't bother him. He stared up at the ceiling distantly, his former sleepiness vanished.
Excitement churned in his belly, but he found it annoying, as it was rather starting to feel like anxiety. Try as he might to remove this feeling and resume his usual nonchalant attitude, he could not, and it irritated him. The young man released a sigh and raked back his dark hair with his hand, something that he did habitually. Boredly, he glanced over at the lion's head that rested over the mantle. Its lip was eternally curled in a snarl, dull glass eyes narrowed in a menacing glare. In spite of himself, Xander chuckled, amused once more by this stuffed beast. It looked so nonthreatening in death that he could not imagine what it had looked like animated. Xander let out another chuckle at the thought of Penumbra inhabiting that head, although he wondered briefly if the demon would be offended by his amusement. Xander pushed away the thought and wondered instead about the ancestor who had killed the lion. What he knew of him was quite little compared to some of the other prominent family members of a few centuries past. What he did know, though, was that shortly after taking the lion to a taxidermy, the man returned home to the manor triumphantly, his hunt a success. He then died in an obscure way and wasn't much spoken of again.
The sound of a door closing brought Xander out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked over towards the corridor. Cecelia, the housekeeper, walked into sight, a very blank look on her face. She was a middle-aged woman with dark, straight hair that she kept short, who had a face that Xander had once found fascinating in his youth, but had quickly lost his attention as she grew older. She had her coat on, so he assumed that she was leaving. She didn't speak as she skirted the couch where Xander lay and made for the front door. There were times that Xander pitied the woman, wondered if she was broken, and started to sympathize with her. However, he quickly shoved all of that away as he reminded himself that she was paid very well and came into the house each day of her own free will. There wasn't much else to it.
"Oh, Cecelia, dear, your week's pay was on the vanity in one of those rooms," Xander called after her as she cracked the front door. He sat up and looked after her, wanting her to look back at him.
The woman turned slightly and looked at him with cold, unemotional eyes. It gave Xander a dark sense of pleasure. "I found it, sir," she uttered curtly, her expression unchanging. The man gazed back at her, giving her a smile. "Have a safe trip home, Cecelia," he said warmly. She stared at him, but with distant eyes, as if she was really looking at something beyond him. She turned, opened the door, and stepped out, without so much as a "good evening" to the other person. She all but slammed the door on her way out.
Xander's smile deteriorated into a thin, straight line. He turned back and stared into the corridor, knowing that something else was approaching. The hallway light flickered once and then went out. Xander watched as a shadow that seemed darker than the rest made its way to the archway that separated the corridor from the main room. It paused there for a moment, seeming to assess the lighting within the room. The flickering fire was the only light source within the room at the time, so it drifted around the light created by the flames and went towards Xander, who was hit by a smell reminiscent of sulfur.
Xander wrinkled his nose in displeasure, but the writhing mass of a shadow approached, growing closer until it entered him, gliding into his chest. Despite the fact that it was a regular occurrance, the dark-haired man let out a gasp and shivered. He could never get over the cold, dark feeling that it brought with it.
"Penumbra, you're so cold," he breathed, a chill traveling up his spine. I know this, the beast purred. Quite cold, indeed. Xander exhaled, and a crooked smile crossed his face. Why are you excited? I can sense it in you, but I do not understand, Penumbra stated, his tone flat. "There's people coming over today. A group of . . . eight or nine - I can't remember," Xander said eagerly. "You'll have your work cut out for you. I believe there were only five last time, correct? Although, please wait a little while before trying to eat anyone. I want to have some nice conversations before they turn on me," he said thoughtfully, though his tone was dark.
The conversations of humans do not interest me. They are only good for eating, Penumbra declared. Xander scoffed, "Just don't devour anyone before I can be friendly with the people. You and Cecelia are not the best company. It's good to have an occassional human companion." Your words mean nothing. Companionship is not why I am here. I am here because Joseph Wainwright Lycus killed my physical form and I swore vengeance upon your family. However . . . in your lifetime, I will bide my time with eating the idiots that enter your home, Penumbra said, the anger he had developed mid-speech relenting.
"Whatever, just leave us alone for a couple hours. Dmittas me¹," Xander snapped. He heard a receding growl as Penumbra's presence left his body. The shadow hovered nearby for a short while before retreating back to the darkness in the corridor. Xander watched it leave, his expression blank. He then glanced back down at his watch. He smiled, excitement bubbling up inside him once more. "Two fifty-four," he announced happily. "They should be here quite soon."
¹ : "Release me" in Latin
