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Despite the vast number of residents in the mansion at any given moment, the halls tend to be eerily quiet. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the distant moans of those who’ve died in these halls, recount their last gasping breath before the blood is drained from their bodies.
The soft padding of your bare feet on the wooden floors travels throughout the entire building — no doubt everyone still awake knows of your whereabouts. It doesn’t matter though because you don’t care about them. You’re looking for someone else; after waking up cold and alone in bed, you wrapped the ample duvet around your body, setting off in search of your lover. The fabric drags behind you, heavy and daring to trap itself on each corner you take.
Since all noises travel so well throughout the mansion, it doesn’t take long for you to find your goal. Your ears perk up when you hear a piano key. It’s slow and purposeful, he’s playing around and thinking rather than enjoying himself.
All the more reason to find him.
There’s only one piano in the mansion. It’s located on the bottom floor in one of the largest rooms in the building, yet only the piano resides there. With every step you take closer, the melodic sounds of the piano grow louder, and the tune becomes consistent.
Dio doesn’t acknowledge your presence when you open the door. His back was to you as he sits on the stool, shirtless to show off the way his back muscles flex under candlelight as he moves. Those long fingers keep playing despite your presence, unbothered by the sudden audience.
The song he plays is from the heart — you can tell by the lack of sheet music on display. Either it’s a song he’s memorised after all these years, or it’s a piece to represent his emotions in this moment. It’s beautiful yet sombre. A weight forms in your chest as you listen and watch him play, moved by the music but you can’t begin to describe why.
When he finishes, Dio remains still, silent. You swallow and you fear it’s too loud, nervous to mutter his name or ask him to come back to bed. It’s the middle of the day and he should be getting his rest, but something is clearly on his mind.
“What do you need?”
There’s an aura that comes with Dio and it changes with his mood. Normally with you, he’s quite pleasant, even if he can be a little brash. You’ve seen him talk to some of the other followers and you count yourself lucky to see him in such a positive light. Right now, his aura is disgusting. Vile, black liquid hangs on your tongue, seeping into your lungs and threatening to kill you. You wonder if this is how the others feel around him.
Taking a breath, you remind yourself that Dio spends the most time with you, gives you the most affection out of anyone. His aura and attitude is not because of you, but something else.
“I woke up alone.” You answer and Dio sighs through his nose, beginning to play another couple of keys.
Obviously he wasn’t interested in sleeping or lying with you, so you don’t bother asking. Instead, you dare to nudge him on the stool to give you room, opening the blanket wrapped around you to drape it over his shoulder. Surprisingly enough, you watch Dio melt into the action, just a little bit.
He continues playing a different song this time. Just as sorrowful, it makes your shoulders sag but leaves a feeling of satisfaction within. Even if it makes you feel blue, the music hits you in all the right places, leaving you itching for more.
Leaning your head on his shoulder, you try to bring a little warmth to Dio’s perpetually cold body. “That was nice.”
“It’s not intended to be nice.” He spits back and you refrain from recoiling. “Return to my quarters. Don’t wait for me.”
You furrow your brows but don’t move, watching as Dio plays around with a few keys again. It’s hard not to let your foggy and sleepy mind wander when long, veiny hands are being spread across all keys—
“Are you thinking of someone?” Dio abruptly stops and all but throws his hands into his lap. You can feel the disbelief without him verbally expressing it to you. “There’s no sheet music. Those songs were pretty gloomy and if they were coming from the head and the heart…” Sitting up you look at Dio beside you, unusually brave in the face of a vampire who refuses to look at you. “…That usually means you’re thinking of someone.”
He doesn’t answer for a long, long while. You sit in silence together, hoping he was enjoying your company just as much as you were his. If he weren’t, he’d have sauntered off some time ago; stomping away into his library or one of the many other rooms of the mansion, throwing an empty threat your way and demanding you heed his instructions and go back to bed immediately.
But he didn’t. Dio remained on the stool with your sides pressed together, duvet draped across your shoulders and the gentle touch of your fingertips along his forearm.
Dio is growing soft and there’s only one body to blame for it.
“Sleep. I will return when I’m ready.” Dio finally says, voice unusually quiet and he returns to playing the piano.
“Can’t you at least tell me a name? What was their relation to you?” It was foolish to prod Dio for answers he doesn’t want to give, especially when he tries to drown you out with the piano. “Dio, please tell me. You know everything about me, I just want to know one thing about you.”
The keys rumble deep as fingers press down on the white teeth, a monotonous tone that makes your heart race, red eyes finally turning to look at you with a snarl. For the first time since Dio took you in, you genuinely feared for your life.
“Brother.” He spits like venom. “Now go before you join the pile.”
With the way Dio says the word it feels like a tender topic you should stop pressing on — despite the threat that was anything but empty. You don’t need to question what pile he’s talking about since you watch it grow everyday. With a heavy heart and strange sense of satisfaction, you stand from the stool without another word, dragging the duvet with you back upstairs.
With a mansion so quiet, you hope no one else can hear the wandering questions about Dio and his brother.