Chapter Text
Distantly, Val remembers a time where the fall time was beautiful to him. Where swirls of orange and yellow made the world seem as if it was in a constant sunset.
When the cool breeze would draw a smile onto his face as he brought a cup of pumpkin fright latte up his lips, taking advantage of the cold to snuggle up close to his beloved Spelldon.
Being a vampire, Val was always cold. The lack of blood flow does that to you. It was impossible for him to truly be any colder, but the witch never called him out for his antics, in fact, he quite liked the closeness too.
That was a long time ago though, when the two were in Monster High. A period of time which doesn't even feel like a memory to Valentine anymore. It's more of a pleasant dream if anything—a dream of a simpler time.
Nowadays, his world is grey most of the time. There's no color anywhere, the autumn breeze no longer has that pleasant chill to it. It feels sickly actually, a reminder of who isn't home right now—far too heavy for Valentine to even breathe in.
It's suffocating.
Late September has lost its charm. Every day has lost its charm.
Thinking about it, it's actually rather amusing to Val, how monochrome everything appears. The light hitting the grass outside his window implies what he should be seeing is a lovely blue sky, maybe some fluffy clouds, and a bright yellow sun.
Maybe if he stepped outside, went on a walk around the neighborhood, he'd be able to catch that color. Maybe it would all be lighter.
But the vampire cannot bring himself to leave his home—he hasn't gone out farther than his porch in five years. Sure, there was the backyard, but that's where Spelldon grew all his herbs.
Valentine wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he went back there and accidentally ruined his husband's hard work. He didn't need to be outside anyway.
Hearing faint buzzing noises and light taps against the glass, he reminded himself of another reason why he couldn't afford to go out.
If he left, his friends might escape and leave him all alone until Spelldon returned from work. It's pathetic, isn't it?
Kieran Valentine's only friends are the flies who somehow found themselves invading his home.
The flies and Spelldon.
It wasn't always like this though. Fifty years ago, once they both graduated college, Spelldon and Valentine tied the knot, the witch’s name becoming a lengthy “Spelldon Cauldronello-Valentine.”
Back then everything was perfect.
Spelldon became a potions teacher at a school for witches, doing medicinal research on the side, and Val was a vet! He spent every day taking care of animals, he had followed his dreams…
Oh, how he longs for the years he spent surrounded by all those adorable little creatures. If only everything could've stayed like that.
If only it stayed perfect.
Val's not sure what caused everything to shift, just, after twenty years, he found himself growing weaker and weaker. Hungrier and hungrier.
He was starving constantly. The only thing that helped was being in Spelldon's presence and being enveloped by the thought of his love.
So Valentine quit his job. It was sad, but his friends and Spelldon assured him that his health came first! And, you know, it did make him feel healthier for a bit!
…
Just a small a bit of time.
Only five more years after that, Valentine stopped speaking to friends. It wasn't anything personal, only that their presence in his home left a bad taste in his mouth. Even seeing their names on his phone or in letters, left him feeling sick.
It covered up Spelldon's energy. Val couldn't stand for it.
He didn't need them, constantly pushing and fussing over him, no, all he needed was Spelldon. He loved them all, really he did, but they were causing more harm than good.
Whisp tried her hardest to stay in Val's orbit, he'll give her that, but, after he destroyed his phone, she realized there was nothing she could do.
Their friendship was over.
In their final conversation, however, the dijnni tearfully explained that, thanks to his wish, she'd still always be there if he needed her. To her, they'd always be beast friends.
Valentine only waved her off, as if pretending he didn't care would make it easier to let go of the first friend he’d ever had. It was only after she left that he allowed himself to cry.
But it wasn't his fault, his heart simply has no more room for anyone that isn't Spelldon.
He wishes his husband didn't have to work. When he's not there with him, Valentine doesn't have the energy to do anything but watch the ceiling fan turn.
Everything the vampire is, he now gets from Spelldon. He's been feeding off the witch more and more each day for years, yet Spelldon never seems to run out of love for him.
Just thinking of that brings a smile onto Val’s face.
No monster or normie in existence could ever love him more than Spell does. And that's perfect, because no one will ever love Spelldon more than Valentine.
Draculaura, back when they still talked, told him that their love was becoming unreasonable. “It's only going to hurt you in the end, Val, why don't you understand? You can't stay!” she told him.
If you ask Valentine, Draculaura's the one who doesn't understand.
Their love is pure, true, real.
His love would never hurt him, no, if anything that love was his salvation. He's sure without Spelldon, he'd be far worse off.
So he'll never let go of him. To hell and back he'd follow the witch, even if just to spend another moment lost in his gaze.
Speaking of Spelldon, actually, it's time for Valentine to start cooking dinner. His husband will be home soon!
He doesn't even need a clock to tell him that, after so many days, he can simply feel it in his heart when it's time for his Spell to return to him.
Although, he'd lacked so much energy prior, now, Val has no problem getting up and making his way to the kitchen. After all, how could anyone lie around when their true love is waiting for them?
He thinks he'll make souvlaki tonight, that way he can also make Spelldon's favorite pita and tzatziki. Even after all these years, just like his love for the vampire, his food preferences never changed.
Valentine only hopes Spell doesn't arrive home early. That sounds odd but he absolutely cannot risk Spelldon watching him make dinner.
Not if he wants the witch to truly stay with him forever.
"Really, Kieran, after all these years you finally reach out to your mother? Spoiled brat! What do you want? Did you get yourself in some mess again? I thought I told you to deal with your problems yourself, you ingrate!"
"..."
"No? Then what is it? Oh, yes, I remember that wretched boyfriend of yours. What about him? HUSBAND? Why I outta hang up on you right now, Kieran Valentine! You didn't tell your own mother you married? I was kind enough to accept your downright repulsive choice of partner, yet you still did this? You children have no respect for those who raised you! You have five seconds to tell me what you need, brat, this better be good."
"..."
"A potion? That's what you need? Isn't your husband a witch, ask him for one! Or what? Has he gone cold on you after all your yammering? I told you, your habit of mouthing off was nothing but an annoyance, yet you never listened to me."
"..."
"Oh...? Oh. Now theres my little dark one! I thought I'd lost you to those foolish, soft-hearted monsters, always preaching their weakness as 'the right way to live.' It warms my still heart to know that, deep down, you're still my son. Of course I'll help you, Kieran."
"..."
"Yes, yes, don't be too shocked. I'm your mother, not a normie. Now, what time does your husband get home? I'll make sure it's delivered at a time he's gone. It's not breaking hearts, but, still, the ruthlessness is that of a true emotional vampire. Welcome back, Kieran, you and your husband are always welcome at any of the Valentine estates. I assume you'll want the one far away from other monsters. I'll leave a key."