Work Text:
Fashioned of the richest, heaviest, blackest wool and lined with scarlet silk, the cape's nearly too big for Jonathan, the hem dusting the floor of the crypt in an arc as he completes his second—then his third spin round. He has it tied at his throat just as his lordship does it; the cord done up in more of a knot than a bow.
And the long shadow splashed across the wall is so like Count Dracula's too.
Jonathan twirls again—
Only then noticing he's being watched.
The Count emerges from the gloom, smiling, and says matter-of-factly, "Suits you."