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When Garrick wakes up, he’s immediately hit by a familiar scent that makes him smile. He’s always been keenly attuned to fellow members of his clan, but he hasn’t sensed this particular Tremere in quite a while. He takes his time as he dresses, giving in to his clan’s compulsion for perfection, and mentally preparing to see you again.
Even though the feeling of your presence leading him through the house is extremely alluring, he decides to exercise restraint and tease you, walking slowly with the knowledge that you can definitely hear his steps reverberating down the hallway.
He finally rounds the corner to see a pleasantly crackling fire casting light on the room. He turns his head to see you sitting in his favourite armchair, two wine glasses filled with an alluring red liquid standing on the table in front of you.
You lean forward slightly to take one before sitting back and stretching your arm out towards him, offering him the glass. He takes another step towards you, your fingers grazing each other slightly as he takes the glass.
He tastes its contents, closing his eyes as he savours the flavour. When he opens them again you’re standing in front of him, having moved soundlessly out of his armchair.
“Mmm. You spoil me”, he says, his deep voice husky with sleep and satisfaction. One corner of your mouth curls up as you take the glass from him again. You lift it up to your lips to drain the last of its contents, your eyes never leaving his. He looks as mesmerised as someone witnessing Thaumaturgy for the first time.
As you turn to place the empty glass back on the table, he clears his throat - and his mind along with it - with a barely audible noise, even though he’s sure you heard it. “I thought I’d have to wait until Vienna to see you again”, he speaks up again.
“Well,”, you speak your first word to him, “I heard congratulations were in order regarding a promotion”, you begin as you turn to face him once more. “And I thought I’d surprise you”, you continue as you step closer, your fingers lightly grazing his rings as you delicately take his hand in yours. “...Primogen”.
His free hand snakes up to rest on your waist, pulling you the slightest bit closer. With the way you look deeply into each other’s eyes as you slide your unoccupied hand up his arm, if one didn’t know you two were Tremere, they’d swear you were blood bonded somehow.
“Well, I am pleasantly surprised”, he smiles, his deep voice reverberating with a warmth that is reserved for a few select people.
At long last the tension is cut as you both lean in for a kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you against his chest as you let go of his hand to bring your hands up to his face. Your fingers barely graze Garrick’s sideburns before they slide up into his auburn curls.
The kiss grows more and more passionate as it goes on, and you hear him growl hungrily in the back of his throat as your hands grip his hair more tightly. You mimic the sound as your left hand moves down to grip his tie, tethering him to you even more securely. Your combined magic, seemingly excited to be reunited, reaches out subconsciously, making the fire burn higher and brighter, almost as if it’s a physical manifestation of your affection.
After a long time apart, suddenly he’s everywhere, and you give in to the desire to just drown in his essence. His warm scent fills your nose, his touch sets your skin ablaze, the familiar comfort of his deep voice cancels out all other sounds. You taste his lips on yours, and a moment later his blood too, as the kiss grows even more heated and you bite him playfully.
A moan escapes him as he feels your fangs break the skin, letting you lead him further into the room. Right as the back of your knees are about to hit the vintage leather couch, you turn sideways so the both of you collapse onto it together, finally breaking the kiss. You break into a laugh together, and Garrick realises how long it’s been since he’s laughed this open-heartedly, and how much he’s missed the sound of your happiness. You’d used Dreamspeak and Dreamscape every once in a while during your time apart, but that’s not the same as having you in front of him, actually tangible.
You lift a hand and move it in a graceful arc as you relax, using Animate the Unmoving to turn on the record player, and the record he’d placed on there last night springs to life.
You move closer to each other on the couch, a few last chuckles escaping you as you lie down with him, your faces so close that your noses brush against each other. “Robert”, you whisper softly, your breath pleasantly warm against Garrick’s face. He notices a stray drop of his blood on the corner of your lips, and he kisses you tenderly to clean it up, releasing a pleased hum into it.
He places a hand on your face as the kiss is broken, the cold metal of his rings a pleasant sensation on your heated face. “Stay with me”, he pleads quietly, and you have to laugh.
“Did you really think that I would’ve come here, to you, if I was planning on leaving? With the knowledge that you’d try your very best to persuade me otherwise? Leaving you like that again would break whatever semblance of a heart I have left, darling”.
He props up on one elbow, his eyebrows furrowed a little in confusion. “What are you saying? You’re not going back to Europe?”
You raise a hand to straighten his tie a little before laying it flat on his chest, the eerie stillness of his Kindred heart mirroring that of your own.
“I talked to Strauss, and he agreed that my services would be more useful here for the time being. Also, and I quote, ‘maybe Garrick will be less bloody miserable with you around’”, you add the last part with a little smile, mimicking the Elder Tremere’s voice jokingly.
He ignores the little stab at his mood and grins, moving his arms to wrap around you once more, and you let out a laugh as he pulls you to lay on top of him, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
You move your head to give him more room and shiver when you feel the tips of his fangs barely scraping against your throat. After a second he comes back up to give you a kiss, softly touching his forehead to yours afterwards as he turns you to lay on the other side of him now. He releases another pleased hum as you gently caress his now messy curls, bodies close and limbs entangled.
“I’m not going anywhere, love”, you tell him, a smile present on both of your faces.
His nose brushes against yours again as he whispers “Good” and leans in for another kiss, soft music and the crackling of fire keeping the noise and commotion of Los Angeles out.