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Summary
He wore a wine-colored vest, open over his slender chest, his bow tie carelessly tossed onto a tray where two glasses and a bottle of French champagne rested. His hair was perfectly combed, though slightly unruly at the temples, his eyes gleaming under the soft light. Sexy, provocative, comfortable in his own skin, owning the space as if the apartment belonged to him.
The moment Vincent stopped in the doorway, Alastor smiled—a small, devilish smile—and, without hesitation, popped the champagne cork. The pop was loud. Bubbles sprayed, the golden liquid shimmering like gold.
“Happy New Year, Vincent.”
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New Year's AU