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There's a knock and then the door clicks open. Rashid knows its Armand before he sees the vampire glide into the room—any of the staff would have waited for Rashid to answer before opening the door and he can't imagine a circumstance that would bring Mr. du Lac to Rashid's suite.
Armand is still dressed as Louis' PA, but he's taken the unsettling contacts out and is holding a mug of tea in one hand and clutching a box of covid tests to his chest with the other.
"I hope you enjoyed your time away," Armand says, always polite.
Rashid hadn't. His other set of employers had harassed him constantly about his absence from the penthouse and they were still in the midst of a pandemic. He'd spent a singular evening at the beach and felt on edge the whole time, judiciously glaring to keep the other beach goers out of his personal space. Basic scientific literacy was doing him no favors as the other humans around him grew bored of masking and social distancing just as cases were spiking again.
"Thank you," Rashid says anyway.
Armand passes Rashid the mug without further comment. When Rashid takes a long swallow, Armand's expression softens only slightly. He must be stressed—Armand usually takes significant pleasure in providing sustenance, especially drinks, especially ones he has the preparation of down to a science. And Armand has Rashid's tea preferences down to an exact science—English Breakfast, oversteeped and diluted with the perfect amount of milk, and served at the exact right almost-too-hot to drink temperature. It tastes like home, like the suburbs of London. Rashid is used to this by now. He shouldn't be, he should never have let himself get this close to Armand, but the damage—whatever it is—is already done. No use dwelling on it.
Rashid takes several more swallows of his tea before setting it on the coffee table and Armand passes him the box of covid tests.
"It would be impolite to allow our guest to come to harm." Armand sounds distant and vacant—tired. His attention refocuses, fixing on Rashid, when Rashid spreads the contents of the test kit out on the table.
He reads the instructions twice, hyper aware of Armand watching him. It doesn't make him nervous, exactly, but it feels very important that he administer this test precisely to specification.
Armand tilts his head, watching curiously, as Rashid swirls the cotton swab around in his nose, counting the seconds in his head. Armand is so weird and alien in a way that Louis is not. Rashid's not sure what is wrong with him that he prefers it. He smiles to himself as he finishes administering the test, squeezing the specimen into the test repository and starting the fifteen minute timer.
He leans back in the chair and looks at Armand who seems uncharacteristically lost.
Armand swallows. "May I have a hug?"
"Of course, sir," Rashid replies honestly, moving to stand. He's taken aback by a sudden lapful of vampire pinning him to the chair.
"This is not a hug," Rashid admonishes, but his arms have already come up to hold Armand and rub between his shoulder blades. Rashid knows how important it is to enforce consistent boundaries with dangerous species. Armand is not tame. He is also not a large cat being kept in a zoo. He is an unimaginably powerful, sapient, apex predator that currently has his head tucked under Rashid's chin.
Armand hums apologetically.
"Just ask next time, alright?"
Armand nods, cold nose brushing against Rashid's neck.
Rashid worries about him. This level of stress isn't good for anyone and Rashid has come to think of this apex predator as his charge, and deserving of care, but even without his conflicting loyalties, there is really nothing he can do. He can't fix the slowly spiraling mess that is Louis' and Armand's relationship. He cannot get rid of Mr. Molloy. He's not even sure that would be for the best.