Work Text:
Darla fell asleep on the velvet chaise longue, pleasantly full, listening to the crackling of the fire and the whimpers of the remaining staff. It was sweeter than any lullaby.
She was awakened by muffled giggling, which was unacceptable. There was also something in her mouth that shouldn’t be there. She sat up and spit it out into her hand. A pale yellow square, embossed with a swan.
She glared at William, who, along with Drusilla, was watching her with anticipation and too-wide eyes. She reached for a fire iron and advanced.
William smiled widely. “Told you it wouldn’t melt.”