Chapter Text
Alucard was poised at the end of a long table, glaring down at the meal presented before him. Maria had been experimenting with many new recipes, determined to find something suitable to her companion’s particular tastes (it had been her mission of hers since she began prying to know about him on a personal level).
Apprehensive, the man picked up a fork in his right hand, and stalled for a moment. Where to even begin with this? He couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to be, either. He didn’t really need to eat food like this, afterall, but Maria was relentless.
As if he had called upon her, Maria suddenly appeared. She took a seat close to him–not on the other end of the table, as he was so used to with his father. The girl was different–-and, for reasons completely unknown to Alucard, she always put in so much effort and attention.
Maria then watched Alucard expectantly. “I think it turned out pretty good this time.” She comments, a bit prideful. She leans in, and Alucard recoils out of habit. He catches himself doing this and straightens his posture.
“What are the ingredients?” He asks, tone neutral.
“I’ll tell you after! Please, have some.” She insists, relentless.
Alucard pursed his lips slightly, nodding. He portioned a small section of the indistinct meal and picked it up with his fork, promptly putting the food in his mouth and chewing. He didn’t make eye contact.
There was a long silence.
“…Well?” She tried, her tone uneasy. Alucard swallowed, and went in for a second piece. Maria merely watched.
“…it’s good. Thank you.” He finally replied, voice quiet. He met her eyes and gave her a small smile, nodding.
The taste was nostalgic, and Alucard was in the process of determining what it was. It was a sort of sobering taste, and he couldn’t at all place it. It was bland, but the texture was interesting.
“You don’t have to lie, Alucard.” Maria chimed in. She stifled a laugh and tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll keep at it–-”
“That’s not it.” He cut her off, putting the fork down. Maria cocked her head to the side slightly, listening.
“…What did you use?” He tries.
“Oh, well… I actually found something.” Maria pushed out her seat and left into the next room. While she was gone, Alucard prodded at the food before he took another bite. What was it? There was something so familiar about it…
The blonde returns quickly, her hands behind her back. Finishing his bite, the man turns to her.
With a little hesitation, Maria brandishes a leather-bound book. Alucard doesn’t recognize it.
“…don’t tell me, you used paper.” He joked (or attempted to), though his tone was flat. Maria has been with him long enough to catch onto his ‘humorous tone’ and gives a genuine laugh.
“Of course not. Here,” she resumed her seat and inched closer to him, flipping to a page with a folded corner.
“I lacked some of the ingredients, but…” she then handed him book. Carefully, Alucard took the book into his hands and began to read.
It was in his mother’s hand.
This must have been her cookbook.
Upon realizing this, Alucard’s body laguage changed. He began scan down the page with such intent Maria had never seen from him.
“You see…” Maria breaks the silence, leaning herself in and pointing a finger to a starred note.
“…'Adrian’s favorite’.” Alucard read aloud, his voice quiet. Maria returned her hand and waited another moment in silence.
“Adrian…” She tried the name on her tongue. Flinching suddenly, Alucard lifted his head, looking at her. She smiles in return. It makes sense.
“Your name is Adrian, isn’t it.” Her tone wasn’t quite a question, but more of a realization. Alucard, noticing his reaction, stifled a small laugh.
“Ah, yes.” His tone seemed hesitant. “It is.” He paused. “…it was.” He conceded.
“Adrian.” Maria says aloud again. Alucard is too invested in the book again, skimming through it with great delicacy. One of the only remaining objects of his mother. It was bittersweet.
Carefully Alucard then placed the book on the table. He returned to his task of eating. Meanwhile, Maria leaned back into her seat, watching him with a soft smile.
“I’m sure it isn’t the same, but I hope I’m on the right track.” She admitted. Alucard nodded, finishing up the last bit before taking a napkin and dabbing his lips with it. He then met her eyes.
“It was very thoughtful. Thank you.” He smiles, though it is marred with a weak expression. Maria smiles brightly in reply, but she stopped herself from becoming too overwhelming, toning it down.
“You’re welcome.” Her voice was low, delicate. She rose from her seat and began to collect the plates and utensils, promptly disappearing into the next room.
While Maria was gone, Alucard ran his fingers over the weathered book carefully. So carefully, as if it could disappear at any moment, or crumble under his touch. His inhuman touch. Alucard recoiled at the thought, returning his hand. He dwelled upon what little he could remember from his childhood. Certain smells that come and go and evoke a nostalgic memory but never quite in perfect clarity.
He sighed softly, feeling a twinge of loneliness.
“Alucard?” The hybrid heard Maria’s quiet footsteps approaching him from behind. He pushed out his seat and rose, turning around to face her. The blonde took a moment to try and read him.
“…I hope I didn’t upset you.” She says, sounding ever-genuine. The man shakes his head, flashing a small, half-hearted smile.
“It was good. Thank you, Maria.” He bowed and began to walk away. Maria stammered something before turning around.
“Adrian!” She calls, her voice sounding a bit more urgent than she had expected. It caused Alucard to freeze where he stood. Upon realizing how rigid he was, he exhaled, composing himself.
“Please do not call me that.” Alucard concludes, continuing his stride. Maria, humbled, bows her head as he departs.
—
A few hours had passed. Maria opted to break the silence between them by visiting Alucard in his bedroom. Standing in front of the too-tall and ornate door, Maria raised her hand to knock, but before she could, she heard a muffled “you may enter” from beyond the threshold. Ever-reminded that Alucard had inhuman abilities, Maria quietly let herself into the room, closing the door behind her (with a little effort, due to its’ massive structure).
The room was dark, unsurprisingly-–illuminated only by the moonlight beyond the absurdly tall window and a single candle.
Alucard was seated on his bed, in the process of placing a book on his nightside desk. The blonde woman took a moment to allow her eyes to adjust to the light, but did not enter beyond the room’s then-closed entrance.
“About earlier, I wanted to apologize.” Maria began, bowing her head.
“That is not necessary.” Alucard replies suddenly. Surprised, Maria lifts her head, her eyes meeting his from across the room. “You did nothing wrong.” He clarifies, his tone plain. Relieved, Maria nods, shifting her weight a little and regaining her full height.
The two lingered there for a moment, but didn’t exchange any words, and both had a difficult time maintaining eye contact. Truthfully, Maria had a hard time adjusting to the darkness, and Alucard felt a bit awkward. The woman shifted again, as if she wanted to speak, but stopped herself. Alucard caught on.
“What is it?”
A moment of hesitation. “It’s not my place to ask, but were you the one who changed your name?”
He nods simply.
“I want to ask why.” Maria confesses. This earned a sigh from the half-breed, followed by another too-long silence.
After a few long moments, Alucard gestured with his hand for Maria to take a seat in the chair poised at his desk. She does, sitting neatly, and fixating on the other as he collects his thoughts.
“I changed my name following the death of my mother,” he explained, his calm voice betraying his furrowed brow.
“At that time, I felt far from my human half. I wanted a name I deemed suitable.”
Maria didn’t look completely convinced. Noticing this, Alucard continued, though he didn’t want to justify his reasoning:
“My father’s ill intentions became clearer to me. I selected the name Alucard-–the reversed name of my father-–to represent my opposition to his ideals. It was my way of discarding my old self.” He lifted his head to meet Maria’s eyes, but her expression confused him. Realizing he spoke too much, he fell silent, watching Maria’s movements carefully.
It looked like she still wanted to ask something, but stopped herself. Alucard doesn’t react.
With a small breath, Maria spoke:
“You have succeeded in destroying your father. You don’t need to discard who you are any more.” Her voice was gentle, but uneasy. Comforting Alucard was difficult. Could this even be considered comforting? Alucard, the hybrid who requires no softness, who is steeled against the world…
“Adrian is gone.” He replies simply. The blonde shook her head in protest. It couldn’t be that simple.
“He doesn’t have to be any more.” Maria tries. Alucard does not budge.
“It is better this way.” He concludes, resolute.
“Is it really?” Maria almost spits out, her voice irritable. This confused Alucard. He blinked, and tried to get a word in, but Maria cut him off–-
“You’re continuing to hurt yourself. You cling to hurt because it is familiar! Things are different now, they’re-–” Maria silenced herself when she met his eyes. Alucard’s face was painted was an expression she wasn’t familiar with. He looked… Damaged. Hurt? How could that be? Did she go too far? Open a wound to bleed afresh?
Maria stammered a few inarticulates before rising to stand in a huff. She took a long moment of awkward hesitation before plotting her next move. All the while, Alucard sat silently, patiently-–rather, he seemed devoid. Hesitant, she stepped towards the seated husk and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Alucard was still as stone, processing what was happening. He did not move a muscle–-Maria could swear that it felt she was hugging something lifeless. Cold, and solid. No breath, no heartbeat… was he doing it deliberately?
“You don’t…” The woman tried, awkward. “…have to hurt yourself any more. You have done enough.” Maria’s voice trailed off–-it was gentle, and a little shaky from nervousness. She had never been this close to Alucard before. She was probably overstepping so many boundaries, but…
“…Adrian.” She tries again, her wrap about his shoulders tightening. Alucard’s body tensed at this, and he gasped a little - like his body was finally given life. Maria began to worry that perhaps she had gone too far, she hugged him without his consent, afterall. They had never…
Realizing this, she began to slip away, when she suddenly felt Alucard’s cool hand place itself on her mid back, pressing into it gently. Maria let out a soft gasp, surprised; resuming her grip about him as her skin chilled under the frigid touch.
Alucard let out an exhale–-a small, weak sound that Maria was completely unfamiliar to. It seemed as though he continued to hold his breath, and in losing his composure, the air escaped.
“…again.” He mumbled into her collar. The sound made Maria’s heart race anxiously. She licked her dry lips and tried again:
“Adrian.”
He flinched, pressing his fingers into her back. Another exhale and a sharp inhale from him.
“Adrian?” She tried to pull away again, but he didn’t let her. He shook his head slightly, tightening his hold. Not now, not now…
Maria, anxious, eased into the hug and lingered. Hesitant, she reached a hand up, laced her fingers through his too-long hair, supporting the back of his head. Her heart was beating madly–and she was sure he could hear it. She wondered if the sound of rushing blood made the situation worse.
The thought provoked another pang of anxiety, and caused her heart to race in a way she never knew. He wasn’t letting her go. Maria was afraid to move – afraid of what might happen if she stayed, afraid if she tried to break free… Perhaps she threw him over the edge? She shifted uncomfortably, but Alucard remained still and silent, breathing so quietly Maria was sure he was not breathing at all.
It’s alright. It’s going to be okay. It was Alucard, afterall. Yes, she comforted herself. He was different. He put so much effort into being different; in all of their time together, he never once tried to take from her. She repeated the thought in her mind, only snapping back to reality when she felt him grip the back of her shirt with his hand. A small gasp despite herself – she wasn’t sure what that meant. She was right, wasn’t she? He couldn’t hurt her. He wouldn’t.
As quickly as it came, he loosened the grip. Alucard’s body language seemed conflicted.
The two lingered, breathing quietly. Once Maria had calmed the beating of her heart, she tried again:
“Adrian.” She spoke his name like an oath–-a statement. It caused the man to flinch again. He exhaled slowly, as if trying to regain control of his then-held breath. As if it were a lifeline, as if he was trying to regain himself.
Nobody had called him that in so many years, afterall. He was known as Alucard, and all around him accepted that imposition without asking why.
Maria was the first.
And Maria would be the last.
“…you may call me that.” He finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Do you want me to?” Maria clarifies, stroking his hair with her thumb carefully. He exhaled and allowed himself to relax into her, just a little bit. Maria supported his weight easily. It was as if she was holding onto something fragile, damaged–-but not broken. Whole. Tangible.
There was another unbearably long silence.
“…yes.” He resigned, fingers pressing into her back firmly, pulling her closer to him.
Maria was surprised to say the least.