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Elijah Bellerose was starting to worry.
He had been up early today, and the house was far too quiet. Usually his thrall was working on food in the kitchen before now, or Elijah would hear them in the library. But there was no sound. He could hardly hear his thrall breathing. If his heart could beat, his blood would be singing a song of panic in his ears. He moved quickly, quietly, toward his pet's room.
When he reached the door, something smelled… off. He recognized the smell. Devil knew he had laid for many days and nights, not realizing things were getting to this point in his own past. Gently, he knocked on the door, right as the clock struck five.
“Pet? May I come in?” He asked softly, only pausing for a moment. There was a quiet groan on the other side, and Elijah took it as an invitation. He opened the door, tilting his head at his thrall.
“Darling, are you alright?” He asked, coming to kneel beside his thrall. Somehow, he got the feeling that his thrall was frozen in time. That they hadn't moved since last night. A quick glance at the checklist of tasks confirmed it.
A cool hand touched their forehead, checking for any fever. No, no excess warmth. Their breathing was steady, as dull eyes peeked out from messy hair. That dullness was very concerning. “What's the matter, pet?” Eliah asked.
The human shrugged limply. “Nothing is the matter,” they mumbled. “Nothing matters anyway.”
Elijah frowned, concerned as he watched his beloved. “What do you mean?” He asked, smoothing the messy hair back. He noticed his thrall was in their oversized hoodie, the one that wrapped around them like a blanket. “Oh pet,” he murmured, “is tonight one of those nights?” He held his thrall's hand in his own.
The smallest of nods, before the hood of the jacket was pulled over their eyes, was enough for the vampire. He stood up, for just a moment, before laying beside his thrall. One cold hand reached out to rub his pet's upper arm, as the other tucked under his own head. “Talk to me, pet,” Elijah whispered. “Please, don't shut me out.” He knew he could hypnotize the answer from them, but that wouldn't help anything. It would just break the fragile trust they had built together.
A tiny head shake from under the blanket-like hoodie. No, they weren't ready to discuss it. Elijah understood that.
“Come closer, beloved,” he offered “let me be your safe harbor through the storm.”
His thrall scooted closer, resting their head on Elijah's shoulder for just a moment. The vampire pressed a gentle kiss on what he could only assume was the top of their head. “I'm here, pet,” he soothed.
After a little while, the stale scent in the room was getting to Elijah. He shook his head, trying to clear out the smell. If his thrall was not able to help themselves, well- that was part of Elijah's role as their protector. He stood up from the bed, seeing glassy eyes watching his movement sluggishly.
“Stand up” he commanded, in his no-nonsense voice. “It's time to air the room out so you don't, as they say, succumb to bed rot.”
The sun had finally set enough for the vampire to stride over to the window and open it. Cool air started to filter in, a gentle breeze to refresh the space. It was quick work for Elijah to open all the windows. “Sit at your desk, pet. I'll be right back with fresh linens.”
It didn't take long for Elijah to get the supplies he needed for his thrall. Some scented candles, the fresh linens, a shirt that would occasionally end up in the laundry when Elijah certainly had not worn it, and his pet's favorite bath soaps. He breezed back into the room, setting everything on the bed.
“First, you need to refresh your body,” Elijah told his thrall. “I know it's uncomfortable, but it must be done.” He started stripping the bed “go get your most comfortable bottoms from your drawers. I'll start drawing you a bath while you do.” He dropped the linens down the laundry chute, then strode into the bathroom.
He could feel his thrall watching, as he turned off the ghastly electric lights. With practiced ease, he started running the water to the perfect temperature for his pet. Once he was satisfied, and had added the different bath oils and salts, he turned to get the candles. He smiled at his thrall, who was looking a little less like a wraith.
“This helped me, when I was still acclimating to my new body” Elijah murmured, lighting the candles and setting them around the room. “You can keep your eyes closed the whole time, if you desire. But it's time to get you clean” he offered a hand. “That's my good pet,” he encouraged, as his thrall took the offering, holding a bundle of clothes with the other. “Would you like me to stay?”
Elijah was momentarily surprised to hear a hiccup from his young companion, as they held their clothes tight against their stomach. Tears dropped down off their chin, making Elijah take their face in both hands. Before he could ask, his thrall finally spoke up.
“I- I don't deserve this,” their voice wobbled and cracked. “Y-you've done so much for me-” they started to sob as Elijah gathered them close to his silent heart.
“You do deserve it, pet,” he insisted. “You have always deserved this love and devotion. The world was cruel, to keep it from you.” He wiped the tears away with his thumbs, before kissing his thrall on the forehead. “You deserve even more than what I could give, in a thousand lifetimes. But for now, pet, let me take care of you.”
Once the sobbing stopped, Elijah let his thrall go into the bath to wash themselves in the golden candle light. He stayed close, in case of any accidents, but let them have their space. Either way, it gave him the chance to make the bed. As he finished fluffing the pillows, he felt his thrall behind him.
“Do you feel a little better now, pet?” He asked gently.
A small nod was the only answer.
“Good” Elijah purred. “Now, I brought your favorite books, some more candles, and some of the snacks you like. I'll read to you, while we relax in bed together.”
“How?” His thrall asked, approaching the bed “how did you-”
“Know what to do for you?” Elijah asked softly. “I've had bad days too. It's like the swinging of a pendulum. One day, you're on top of the world; the next, you're wallowing in grief and guilt. However dark it may seem, my dear,” he whispered “the pendulum will swing back.”