[ That, at least, is a relief. A little piece of good fortune, when there has been so little of late.
(Maybe one day, he will ask if Alucard wishes to be known by a different name. As it is, it's used only for teasing and joking and now is the time for neither of those things.)
It takes all he has to not pull the cloth away. To have faith - and isn't that fucking ironic, for having faith to be key to a fucking vampire's wellbeing - in his ability to ruin things. It works. The skin is red still, irritated, looking almost acid-burned, but unbroken. Then, even the redness fades. It's a relief to see the wound finally close up.
His wrists are next, and the last of the wine is used upon them. Those are the worst, having been trapped against the silver by his own weight. There are other injuries - god, there are so many - but only so much of the wine. He's glad that Alucard is asleep for this, because the hissing and the burning, the rapid regrowth after it's been delayed for so long - none of it will be painless.
It's slower, this time. The depth of the injury is surely part of it, maybe there simply isn't enough wine to counteract the poison entirely. But part of it-
-he strokes Alucard's cheek softly. His bedside manner is about as good at any of his other manners, but he's doing his best. His voice is as warm as he can manage, only touched a little by exhaustion. ]
Wake up, Adrian Tepes. [ Okay, maybe it is the time for jokes and teasing. Just a little. ] You can't feed in your sleep.
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(Maybe one day, he will ask if Alucard wishes to be known by a different name. As it is, it's used only for teasing and joking and now is the time for neither of those things.)
It takes all he has to not pull the cloth away. To have faith - and isn't that fucking ironic, for having faith to be key to a fucking vampire's wellbeing - in his ability to ruin things. It works. The skin is red still, irritated, looking almost acid-burned, but unbroken. Then, even the redness fades. It's a relief to see the wound finally close up.
His wrists are next, and the last of the wine is used upon them. Those are the worst, having been trapped against the silver by his own weight. There are other injuries - god, there are so many - but only so much of the wine. He's glad that Alucard is asleep for this, because the hissing and the burning, the rapid regrowth after it's been delayed for so long - none of it will be painless.
It's slower, this time. The depth of the injury is surely part of it, maybe there simply isn't enough wine to counteract the poison entirely. But part of it-
-he strokes Alucard's cheek softly. His bedside manner is about as good at any of his other manners, but he's doing his best. His voice is as warm as he can manage, only touched a little by exhaustion. ]
Wake up, Adrian Tepes. [ Okay, maybe it is the time for jokes and teasing. Just a little. ] You can't feed in your sleep.