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Snippet #2717274

located in Manerium de Muerte, a part of Manerium de Muerte, one of the many universes on RPG.

Manerium de Muerte

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alice Antolin Character Portrait: Damían Santiago Character Portrait: Bishop J. Santiago Character Portrait: Claudio Santiago Character Portrait: Faye Vincent Character Portrait: Franklin Gables Character Portrait: Maleah Santiago
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Franklin's heart stopped when the glass shattered, seemingly by itself. He let himself be led away by Maleah, never once tearing his eyes from the shards. How unnatural. The next thing he knew, he was holding hands with the Princess of Asmaria herself, being yanked in every which direction as she meandered out of the throne room. He gave a wave to the remaining company as they left, but his hand quickly dropped back to his side as he made accidental eye contact with Bishop.

"Princess! Do you need me to -" he yelped when she let out a cry of pain as they stepped outside, then shut his mouth as she jumped over to the grass. He looked at her questionably when she shoved him, then gazed after her running off into the courtyard. Ah, a race, right? He chuckled evilly and cracked his fingers before sprinting after her.

He slowed down, keeping himself at a short distance behind her, thinking to himself that he should let her win. That seemed like something a butler should do. The subconscious reasoning behind that was that he wanted to keep looking at her, and he couldn't do that in first place. She looked like some sort of fantastical being as she ran, and Franklin couldn't help but wonder in suspicion, How fast can she really run?

Maleah slowed to a stop and Frankie halted rather abruptly beside her. He folded his arms, nodding along as she talked about her secret. He couldn't hold back his happiness as she claimed she didn't care about what he did in his free time - so he did have some freedom, after all - but that smile all but dropped at what came next.

"I'm... yours?" Franklin murmured out of shock. He didn't mean for it to slip out so skeptically, or at all for that matter.

"Yes, mine," she confirmed as she let her knees collapse, taking her body to the grass. Her dress flared out around her as she perched on her newly grass stained feet. She could already hear the complaints form the woman that washed her clothes and the lecture on how she shouldn't sit in the grass in a white dress. "It'll make sense soon, I promise." Maleah assured him, even while a small sense of insecurity washed over her.

"Right..." He nodded slowly, then recovered from his brief confusion by lifting his arms up into the shape of a W and letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Sure it will, Princess." He slumped down on the grass next to her, looking up at the night sky as he declared all too honestly, "S'long as I'm being paid, I'll be yours until you can't stand me!"

Maleah watched him, smiling as he joined her and even happier that he wouldn't be lecturing her either. Around him, she didn't have to be so prim and proper and she could sit in a heap in the grass if she damn well pleased. "You still haven't promised me that the secret I'm about to tell you will stay between us," she spoke in a soft tone, her fingers moving from the grass to the hair on the back of his neck. She knew that she was invading his personal space, but she couldn't help herself. Maleah was an affectionate person and adored affection in return and sometimes she just like to touch things that looked soft

Completely frozen in place upon physical contact, Franklin stammered out a reply. "Of course! Uh - I mean - yeah, w-what kind of a butler would I be if I didn't keep it?" He scooted away from the young woman slightly, giving her a sideways glance as he did so. He wanted to touch her hair, too. Instead, he furiously stared at his knees and thrust his hand towards her, his pinkie jutting up in the air.

Maleah watched him curiously, frowning as he moved away while her hand dropped to her lap. 'Please don't be afraid of me,' she thought, reaching out to take a hold of his pinkie with her own. Not yet letting go, she tugged his hand forward, right to her chest just below her throat, looking for his gaze. It wouldn't be until they made eye contact that she would speak again. "Franklin. My brothers and I... Well..." she paused, pulling in a nervous breath through dry lips."Well, we're vampires."

There was a moment of tense silence, when...

"I thought so," came Frankie's plainly said reply. He glanced at his hand which was unnervingly too close to her breasts. "Great. Is there any royalty that doesn't suck blood?" he mock-lamented, tossing his head away.

"Oh," came her flat response. Part of her felt relief, the other part was disappointed and she couldn't figure out why. At his next comment, she released his pinkie and pushed his hand away, meekly shrugging her shoulders."I don't know," she mumbled before quietly distracting herself with the hem of her dress.


"I'm joking," he said in a hurry and shook the hand she had held. Vampires sure had some grip. He focused on his knees again, a somewhat awkward atmosphere settling over the two of them. He coughed. "Look, Princess, I'm sorry I'm not going..." Frankie murmured, then lamely waved his arms about like limp noodles, "Aaaaagh, oh noooo, vampire, but I like my blood." He looked at her, smiling and hoping he'd made her smile, too. "I'm just used to it. I'm surprised though!" He blurted out suddenly. "I never imagined I'd find vampires here and... well..." The young man nudged her with a reassuring grin, "Never thought I'd find a nice one."