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Truly, the ballroom looked like a work of art.
Enchanted candles floated in the air, casting the dim room in a warm glow that contrasted perfectly with the undead that would roam about. Wooden planks shone underneath the light, each perfectly cut and placed with a remarkable amount of care.
Windows stood tall and grand at the end of the room, bringing the view of the scarlet moon to every guest’s eye.
Though, arguably the best part of the ballroom was in a small enclave off to the side, carved of dark stone that was gathered by only the best craftsman around. Blood flowed so steadily from the tiers that it looked stationary, and Scott was only able to tell that it was moving because of the slight ripples in his reflection.
He ran a clawed hand across the intricate stone swirls, careful not to leave a scratch on the work of art.
“Truly,” Scott thought as he turned to survey the room. “Owen’s done a wonderful job.” Of course, it was nowhere near the grandeur that the castle had once been, back when Scott was a mere fledgling. But it was something.
“I think I did a great job, if I do say so myself.” Owen said, materializing next to him with a smug grin on his face. “Much better than that sorry excuse of a town.” He dipped a glass bottle into the fountain before taking a long drink. “You owe me, Goldsmith.”
A grin crept up on Scott’s face as he observed the other, reaching out and twirling some of Owen’s hair through his fingers. “I’m letting you live in my castle. Isn’t that enough?” He laughed as Owen knocked his hand away, splashing a bit of blood on the new floor. “Now look what you’ve done!”
“Not like there hasn’t been blood on the floor before.” Owen shrugged, turning to face Scott. “And yes you owe me! I don’t work for free!” His voice was indignant, and he began to wave his hands around animatedly as he ranted. “Good for nothing coven, always doing free labor-”
“Fine.” Scott conceded, holding out a hand. A charming smile graced his lips and he gave Owen a slight bow. “I do owe you.” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed Owen’s hand that had been previously waving about, and pulled him closer. “I owe you a dance in this wonderful ballroom.”
Owen’s mouth fell agape, stunned for a slight moment before regaining some of his composure and attempting to tug away from Scott’s vice-like grip. “A dance? Really? I was thinking you could get me some money or something-” His voice cut off with a yelp as Scott pulled him along the dance floor with a laugh.
along the dance floor, gracefully keeping out of the way when Owen stumbled or missed a step. “You could use a bit of joy in your afterlife.” The remark was punctuated by a snort from Owen. “I mean it. You’re always so…” Scott trailed off, spinning them both around. “Gloomy.”
“Yes, because Oakhurst is the best place to be oh-so happy all the time,” Owen retorted, glaring up at him. “I hope I throw up on your fancy cape from all this spinning.” Though, he continued to follow Scott, eventually falling in time with the waltz.
A dramatic gasp escaped Scott, and spun them both again. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would dare.”
“You’d be dead before you got the chance.”
“I doubt it.” Owen was smirking now, easily biting back with all his responses. “And you’re a slow dancer.” With that, he began to pull Scott along to a faster beat, causing the elder vampire to stumble and a barked laugh to escape Owen’s throat. “You’re a little dusty from all those years in the crypt, hm?”
The candles cast a soft glow upon the pair as they danced throughout the room, exchanging jabs and smiles in equal measure. Owen had quickly changed the places, now leading Scott around the room in quicker time.
Scott never thought he'd see Owen so carefree.
Smiles carelessly graced his face, laughter bubbled around him like the finest champagne. It was a wonder, a once in a blue moon event that, if Scott was being honest, had his head spinning.
After all, it wasn’t everyday that you got the resident homicidal maniac to laugh and smile like the young adult he never got the chance to be.
The grace was falling from Scott’s movements as the two continued to sway, and the stumbling only added to his embarrassment. What was happening? The charming and lovely Scott Goldsmith being melted by a smile from a mere 200 year old vampire?
Owen noticed him staring, and began to slow the dance, returning the stare with a hint of confusion. Eventually, they came to a standstill, simply staring at each other, and Owen began to pull away, believing the silence to be awkwardness or distaste.
“I don’t think I’ve quite paid my debt yet!” Scott exclaimed, picking up the pace and spinning the younger vampire around. His thoughts were in shambles, yet all of them fell back to the same subject. Owen. Owen. Owen. “You’re going to make me look like someone who doesn’t keep his promises!”
“Like vampires are famously known for their ability to keep promises,” Owen scoffed, eyes skirting around the room, avoiding Scott’s gaze like it contained silver. “Really, though, its alright, we’ve got work to do-”
In a flash, Scott had his arms wrapped around Owen, carefully supporting him as he dipped him low to the floor. “What in the world am I doing?” That question bounced around in Scott’s head for what seemed like ages.
A squeak echoed down from the roof, cutting the tension swiftly. Scott craned his head upward to see two small bats fluttering near the ceiling, one a reddish brown and the other a gray-brown.
“Seems like we have some guests.” Scott smiled upward at the two, who he guessed were Shelby and Pyro, before loosening his grip on Owen, causing the man to nearly fall to the floor.
With a startled hiss, Owen tightened his grip on Scott, glaring up at him. “You’re trying to make me look like a fool.”
“I could say the same for you.”
The two bats, sensing they’d interrupted something, hastily flew out, squeaking excitedly all the way. Scott led out a dry chuckle. “They’ll have plenty to talk about later. Maybe Shelby will even write about it in her fanfiction.”
The two carefully rose back to their feet, Scott awkwardly brushing off Owen’s shoulders and fixing a few strands of hair that had come loose from their ribbon. Why was he doing this?
What was happening to him? “So, uh, I believe I’ve paid my debt.” The voice that left his body couldn’t be his own, could it? It was shaky and uncertain, not anything like the collected Scott Goldsmith that lived in this castle.
“Well, I suppose you have.” Owen began to walk off, stopping and turning just to smirk at him. “Though, I have to say, I don’t think I was the one making you look like a fool.”
A fool was, unfortunately, the closest term to describe Scott right now. And he wasn’t particularly inclined to remedy that any time soon. He closed the distance before he could think any longer about his decision, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Owen’s cheek.
Time stopped for a moment, and Scott could feel himself breathing, his face feeling akin to fire.
Owen had also frozen, going still as a statue. Eyes wide and staring, staring straight into Scott’s soul, his face a mix of emotions that Scott did not want to decipher right now.
Before the situation could get any worse, Scott hastily whispered, “Thank you for the dance.” And like a coward, he turned into a bad and flew off, nearly crashing into every wall on his way out. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” The chant echoed through his head as he flew through the dead woods.
Scott Goldsmith rarely thought himself a fool, but now it seemed like all his missed foolishness was catching up to him with pitchforks and torches.
Every tree seemed to lunge out at him, trying to catch him as he sped through the woods, trying to escape his thoughts to no avail.
As soon as his control on his bat form faded, he leaned against one of the dead trees, feeling his face burn like he was splashed with holy water.
Well.
This was a problem.