Felix didn’t open up about himself. This was all new to him... because no one had ever been privileged enough to find those details out. Perhaps it was a good sign; that he had finally at least come to terms with what happened to Kay. He had been moving on in other ways since her death, of course, but this... this felt more moved than he ever had. Even if nothing happened beyond tonight with Violet, it was encouraging.

If he ever told Gabby (and he wouldn’t), she’d probably be at least pleased he’d finally stopped dwelling on the past. Even if he still thought about it and wished things would’ve turned out differently, just so that sort of thing didn’t weigh on his conscious. They had been kids... and it probably wouldn’t have worked out. But then Gabby could’ve had her mum.

There were always moments in life that you wish you could take back or change. Maybe that was part of growing up. Felix could still feel bitter about his part in it, and the outcome, but he didn’t need to... let it weigh him down forever. He gave her a small smile, a grateful smile, before shrugging half heartedly. “Thank you.” She was probably someone who understood loss in a way that Felix didn’t understand. He had yet to lose his parents, after all, and most of the people in his life, come to think of it. He hadn’t been forced to stay around, healthy, young, while everyone else got old and... went the way of humans.

That seemed to be quite a huge trade off for being immortal. That with the lack of garlic and sun... It had to be difficult being a vampire.

He glanced down to her hand, watching it move over his skin as goosebumps (and hair) rose with her touch. It was nice.

Felix appreciated her words; usually people just filled the sorrow with even emptier words. He took hers at word value and nodded. He had been selfish, but he had come to terms with that long ago and was fine with it. He did laugh, not so harshly, at her compliment. “It turns and turns.” She wasn’t leaving, yet, so Felix supposed she could deal with his demons. Or at least this one.

He stole another look around before chuckling. “I’m sure your house would be much better than this.” When they were out in the less-oppressive London air, he gladly accepted her arm. He was able to breathe easier with each step, willing himself to think of happier things. Like having a drink with Violet, even if she couldn’t completely partake. Speaking of other art from the gallery also helped, light laughter following their conversation as they made their way down the street.

Felix was actually enjoying the date. The apparate was easy enough, and he followed even easier behind and through the door. Once they made it to her kitchen, he took the liberty of sitting himself, legs relaxed and wide as his feet rested on the bottom of the stool ring. Eyes moved over her as she stepped close; he accepted the glass, a half smirk on his lips. “Just ten?” He tipped it to her before taking a sip, letting the burn of whiskey flow down.

He licked his lips and let his free hand roam her hip, moving slowly around to her mid back before pulling her in another step. “I can be very thoughtful. Sometimes. When I choose to be.” His eyes were now on hers, watching her face. “Why don’t you give me a nice tour, Violet?” Felix took another, longer, sip of his drink, eyes staying on hers as he did.

“Maybe fifteen,” she decided, appearing to think it over for a brief moment before offering a smile. Blood might have been the only real appetizing thing, in terms of actual nourishment, but the smell of whiskey… there was something to it, especially paired with the man she’d just poured it for. It was better than perfume, in a way. Or cologne, with her guest in mind. She let him pull her closet, her eyes drifting down to the glass and its contents.

“And other times you can’t bother?” She asked, raising a brow, meeting his eyes as he looked at her. “Are you telling me,” she continued. “You don’t put in this much effort with most of your dates?” Her smile widened a bit. She knew the answer, but she found a great thrill in poking him about it. Or a little one, in a trail of thrills that would lead to something bigger…

At the end of their tour, maybe.

“Sure. This is my kitchen.” She stood back a little, removing herself from grasp just slightly, but not enough so that his fingers didn’t still brush her. She lifted an arm and offered a nonchalant expression. “I use it,” she continued. “Maybe three or four times a year, when I host something. But I’m not much of a cook.” She looked back at him. She always hired help for dinner parties. Violet was out of touch, with cooking. And then, of course, growing up as she had, it been customary for the help to do the cooking.

She reached down and removed her shoes, one and then the other, carefully, leaving then just to the side of the counter. Then she reached for the hand that wasn’t holding the drink, and tugged him to his feet, so that a moment later, she was looking up.

“And then,” she continued, leading him toward the entry hall they had already been in twice. She stopped, though, before they managed the actually step through the open archway. “Is the living room room.” She gestured to the front room that shared an open plan with the kitchen, that Felix had been staring at a moment prior, from his chair, and which had been half bathed in light. Often times the entire house was glowing, but Violet thought something milder suited the mood. And the whiskey. “That painting is a hundred years old,” she explained, gesturing to the one over the fireplace.

She allowed him a glance before she was pulling him through the hallway and into the room across it. Now she paused, properly. It was the room he had arrived in, the sitting room, its double pocket doors opened all of the way. Victorian lounge chairs in faded colors were matched by crown molding and perfectly restored floors. There were modern touches, of course, bringing it all together, so that it flowed with the rest of house, which was mostly white. “I’m sure this is where we should spend our evening,” she teased, giving him another moment. “This is the room that’s the most trafficked,” she added. Not everyone was a VIP. “People don’t really use sitting rooms anymore, but I find it nice to listen to an album and sip… well, not whiskey.” She smiled.

She let go of his hand and turned to head back into the hallway, without warning, and made for the stairs. She paused a few up, not looking back. “We can start with the cellar, if you’d prefer.”

Fifteen was more like it. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to top it. Felix wanted to impress her in a way he hadn’t wanted to in years. Years. There had been potentials along the way, people he had tried to court for the sake of doing it. Nothing ever stuck. Maybe this time... with some immortal creature who would forget about him after he died, it could be different. He gave a humored chuckle. “I put a lot of effort into my dates; it’s just that it’s usually with a specific outcome in mind.”

Fingers trailed as he looked down from her face, tongue teasing his lips for just a moment before he smirked. “But for the pure enjoyment of conversation? Not usually.” He finally looked back up, enjoying her smile.

When she pulled away, he merely swallowed his whiskey and let her, enjoying the chill that was still at his fingertips. Eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “I thought you would’ve become some top chef with all that extra time on your hands.” One hundred and twenty two years in art and fashion... he wondered about her other hobbies, or if that was it. Interior decorating seemed to be one as well.

Felix didn’t protest when she tugged him off the stool, looking down at her, slightly, holding that position until she pulled away. It was easy to let her lead him, to watch her show off her place. He glanced to the living room, his eyes drawing to the painting at her behest. “Nearly as old as you...” He smirked, thinking to step closer to it, but she was pulling him elsewhere.

Eyes took in the little details, like the doors that pushed into walls that hardly any home had these days. He looked at her face, momentarily, eyes narrowing as he considered her words. His free hand gestured to the chase, whiskey moving around in the glass as he did. “Right there.” The hand that was in hers flexed, fingers grasping lightly before he rubbed his thumb against the back of her hand. “What sort of album do you put on...?”

Did she stay relevant with her music? Or did she prefer tunes from when she was a young adult, growing up and learning to fit in her own way? Felix let his hand drop down, watching as she moved away only momentarily before he looked around the room once again.

“I want to see your most private place. Show me that.” He turned his head back to her, hunger there in his eyes. Even if she had shared her place with numerous men, even if there wasn’t a place that they could claim just them, he wanted less trafficked areas. Felix stepped after her, slowly taking each stair as he looked at her, smirking.

He had bared his soul in a way that he wasn’t comfortable doing even with his daughter. Felix wanted repayment... compensation for information shared.

“I put a lot of effort into my dates; it’s just that it’s usually with a specific outcome in mind.”

Violet’s expression seemed to be the mildest of hmm’s. As if she were both pleasantly surprised and not at all. (She wasn’t; given the circumstances of how they’d met… Violet was well acquainted with the outcomes he had in mind. Theirs hadn’t even been a date, technically.) She watched his tongue and mouth, but resisted, easily. She had a lot of time to control herself.

“People can say a lot about nothing at all,” she offered in sympathy. Or, if one had goals in mind for a date…

The idea of becoming a chef was laughable, or at least masochistic, but then she was sure plenty of chefs enjoyed the art as much they enjoyed the final product. That was the point. Even so, Violet could not see herself taking up the hobby. “I suppose my professional pursuits have been a little more selfish than that.” But they had certainly changed over time. And her interests had only accumulated. “When I was still a witch…” It was a strange thing to say. To use the past tense. She was used to it, but it felt as if she were speaking about someone dead. “I was sure I would become a world class astronomer.” She smiled a little more, as if this were humorous. She still loved the stars, even if she could not step into the light of the closest one. It brought comfort, sometimes, to escape London and see them. She remembered quite clearly the view from his house.

Merely smiling, small, at his comment regarding her many years, she led him to the next room.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she protested hardly at all. “I’m not saying the furniture in my home isn’t as functional as the furniture in my office, but I’m not sure that one is great for the back.” She glanced at him; this time the smile was in her eyes.

On the topic of music, she was more sincere. “A lot of things,” she said, surprisingly. “But I do love classical music when I’m working. Words can be distracting.” It was like poetry read aloud, or a story unfolding to a beat. Violet was well-accustomed to working in hectic conditions, but there was something about simple, elegant violin music or a piano piece that made it much easier to concentrate. “I love classic rock, too,” she admitted, with more of a teeth-bearing grin. “That was a time when people weren’t so hesitant about vampires…” It was inspiring, and the fashion and art that had accompanied the wild, rebellious sounds were still being rehashed today in the likes of her own magazine. “What about you?”

It was nice, getting to know someone; Violet had preferred solitude in free evenings, lately, as accustomed to socializing as she was. But these past few weeks, with Felix… She had not been so interested in another person since August, and it was not in the same way, not for decades.

That said, she found the quieter moments just as enlightening.

“I want to see your most private place. Show me that.”

It was a rare request. A brave one. No one had ever asked her that exactly, in fact, and if it had been someone else… Violet didn’t know what the response would have been. But the way he framed was perfect somehow, almost a demand, something that pulled at her and made her want to rise to the challenge.

Even when she did invite strangers back to her house (which was rare, and which Felix now decidedly was not), much of the time they never made it to that private place. It was not that Violet had many reservations, only that is seemed an inconvenience. To herself.

Now, though… She continued to look ahead, but her eyes roamed up, up the stares. When she felt his presence behind her, she answered, softly. “That would not be in the cellar, then.” She let her hand slide further up the bannister, and she took another step. She was slow in her movements, and silent, prolonging the journey out of pleasure.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Violet turned on the final one, waiting for him to level with her. She stared at him, carefully, appraising him again somehow. Fingers came up to his face, ghosted over his lips. “Do you have enough whiskey?” She asked quietly.

You weren’t living if you weren’t selfish in some way; Felix knew that better than some. He did things just for his own enjoyment and very little else. Perhaps the only thing that could save him from being completely self-serving was his daughter. She grounded him in ways he couldn’t put into words, and that he would prefer she didn’t realize she did.

An eyebrow rose at her honesty, but he smiled anyway. Felix wanted to ask her more about it; he wanted to know why she didn’t pursue it, if she had found enjoyment in it before. Instead, he let it lie for now. “The things we envision when we’re younger.” When the world was full of endless possibilities that beckoned with partly open doors to those adventurous enough to push them open.

He chuckled and shrugged. “You bounce back quick, right?” Felix was a nice enough guy that he’d let her injure her back. If she did bounce back quick, of course. If not... then they needed to find somewhere else, because his back was wrecked from years of hard labor. Not that he didn’t mind it.

Her choice in music, however, was endearing. Felix did laugh at the mention of classic rock. “If you were around when it was made, do you still call it classic rock?” From what he knew of the history, it was a time people weren’t so hesitant about a lot of things. When the question turned back on him, he rubbed the back of his head and smirked. “I enjoy classical music. And I enjoy what the kids call classic alternative, these days. I guess if I like the lyrics, then it’s good enough for me.”

This wasn’t the time to explain that he enjoyed poetry. She’d find that out eventually, or she wouldn’t. He didn’t have to throw himself under that Knight Bus.

Maybe he didn’t have the right to ask to see her most private place. Felix didn’t often worry about whether he was being PC or not; he figured if they couldn’t handle him, he’d just move on. He swallowed after the demand was out and waited. He licked his lips and followed after her, a small smile slipping over his lips as he took each step after her.

His footing stopped when she did, but when she turned around, he stepped up to be level with her, looking down just slightly to meet her gaze. Felix nearly licked his lips, and thus would’ve touched her fingers, but he rather liked the... intimacy of it. He nodded his head just slightly.

Only her eyes seem to smile at his comment; her mouth was calm in agreement. Perspective changed as one aged, sometimes quickly, every couple of years, and other times at a slow crawl through the decades. It depended on several things. But it was also true that one usually became less certain of one’s ability to change everything, to take it over, even as one became more confident.

“Something like that. A perk of my condition.” She eyed him. “It’s very gentlemanly of you to observe it,” she said dryly. If she planned for them to linger here, she wouldn’t have minded a rough surface. She might even put on some of that music she loved… though undoubtedly in their few weeks together, they had enjoyed each other’s more… organic music plenty.

A near-silent laugh escaped her. “I like to clarify for… other generations.” It was an easy summary. She didn’t consider Felix young in the way she considered his previous dates young. But he was still much younger than she. “Not that today’s rock isn’t entertaining. I would be lying if I said I don’t enjoy it. We’ve had a few rockstars in the magazine. They seem to date models en masse.” She looked at him carefully from the side. “People who are gifted with both composition and lyric-writing aren’t high in number. I enjoy it, too.” It was nice to hear, somehow, that their tastes might not clash, though Violet was a grown woman and had few qualms with the varying interests of those she dated.

Dated… they were dating, properly, almost, or had been more recently, even if tonight was technically the first real one. She found herself wanting to show him things, to take the time.

At the top of the stairs, where she had barred his passage, Violet found herself looking up as he joined her. He was as teasingly close as she, matching her somehow, and she found herself pleased with his silent answer. Her face seemed to approve, to say good. Her hand dropped from his admittedly distracting mouth, and Violet turned only a fraction to step onto the landing.

She invited him, without words, to press closer. With her own palms balled idly where his chest met his neck and shoulder, her forearms pressed gently into his shirt, she kissed him and then took a few careful steps backward, at a teasingly slow pace, eyes on Felix, mouth betraying a hint of a smile. They moved this way toward the destination, stopping frequently to enjoy Violet’s corridor. It was a path she knew by heart, without having to watch, but with Felix’s hold and his eyes on the stretch of floor behind her, and with her own sense of balance, it was a leisurely backward stroll to that private place.

The door was already pressed open, as she had not expected any company but his, and there had been no reason for it to be closed, however un-trafficked it was by guests.

The room was whites and creams, suited the rest of the house, but had a warm tranquility, less stark than the kitchen or formal than some of the other rooms. Candles were everywhere, adding to the chandeliers’ pretty lighting. It was feminine, but not stuffy or overwhelming.

Violet let him walk around for a moment and then settled into the edge of the mattress, leaning in lightly. “My windows aren’t as big as yours, of course. Charmed drapes.” She gestured. “And no photos of secret teenage children.” Now she smiled.

What could he say? He was a gentleman through and through. His daughter probably would’ve snorted herself into a coma with that thought. Her sarcasm was noted and appreciated, but he merely smirked as a response. “Do you get involved with the goings-on of many rock stars?” Had she dated a rock star in the past? Had a song been written about her? Maybe from that era that she talked about as being more free than those before.

The top of the stairs was getting rather cozy. Felix followed the invite easily. The kiss was gentle, unlike the promise of the chaise downstairs. His smile softened as his free hand rested on her waist, fingers moving over the fabric of the dress as he stepped after her. Once they hit the opened room, however, his eyes flickered from her face to the area beyond.

It was decidedly different in this room than the rest of the house. It felt more lived in. Almost like a little hidden girl peeking out from the responsibility of a workaholic vampire. He took in the easy colors and made his way around, admiring the amount of lighting she kept around. Felix turned his head towards her and grinned. “I don’t know if it was kept secret so much as I didn’t mention it.” Regardless... he decided this room fit her better than the kitchen and entrance room had.

Felix sipped his whiskey and stepped closer still, setting the glass down on a coaster before he pushed his leg between hers. His other leg moved up, knee pressing into the mattress next to her leg. Finally Felix lifted her chin up and bent over, kissing her teasingly slow at first before gently but insistently pushing her further back. His hands found the area on either side of her to help prop himself up. “Charmed drapes... so you can sleep here, tomorrow during the day?” Once he had confirmation, Felix grinned and lifted a hand off the bed, shifting weight onto the remaining arm.

Fingers trailed up her thigh and pushed the dress slowly upwards. “Let’s see how tired we can make you, then.” He nipped at her chin before pressing further against her lips, hungry for something else entirely now.

Violet laughed, which not the most usual occurrence, but it seemed to come naturally around Felix. “Presently?” She asked, to clarify. And then decided on a vague answer: “No, not for a while.” There was a serenity in her stare, if not an obvious smile on her face. “Sometimes we’ll feature them in the magazine if there’s a rock-inspired collection or if someone has a project to promote. I’ve not been heavily involved in that scene in quite a long time.” A long time for some people, anyway.

As they moved into the bedroom, with Felix’s fingers promising a more than a rockstar could ever give, Violet continued to feel perfectly at ease sharing her personal environment. Something about him made her want to, in a way.

“I guess it took me a few minutes to mention that I,” she countered, looking him up and down, pausing on that syllable. “Only drink blood.” She smiled. They could have their vaguely-kept secrets. Until the other asked. Not that Violet was ever purposefully evasive about her condition. That he had a daughter strangely did not bother her. Or perhaps it was not so strange, since Violet rarely had such repeat visitors. Those topics didn’t matter, usually. If they did now, they were not enough to scare her off, just like her personal luggage had not so far sent Felix running for the sun. (Even if it had taken him a while to remember her name.)

If there was anything interesting beyond the charmed drapes, it was the bed that seemed to hold the most attention now. Violet allowed him to pin her lightly to the mattress, to move her legs. It was a leisurely position for the vampire. She stared up at him before their lips met. It was rare that someone could tease her, draw her in so thoroughly. Her lashes closed together as her face tilted further into his, almost begging for what he offered now. Violet knew what she wanted.

“All day,” she affirmed, as he pulled back. She began to sit up a little, trying to coax him down, to encourage him to continue. As his hand came over her thigh, though, she settled back, letting out a quiet but elated breath. It was another drawn out moment before she managed to tear away from the kiss with a will power that was surely years in the making. “Maybe,” she whispered, turning her jaw tauntingly to the side, “You’ll be the one who sleeps until sunset.” Her hand came up to the back of his shoulder and she encouraged him down again, concluding the brief but baited intermission. The next act was the sweetest.