goodnight

7:33 AM. Sunrise in five minutes.

The Prince delicately picked a record from the pile that had been building up next to the turntable. He turned it over in his thin and shaking fingers, blowing a bit of dust from the groves. This was an old one, 1931 if he remembered correctly. He set it delicately on the deck and pulled the needle over, setting it in the first grove with practiced hands. He didn't start it yet, though, instead turning  to stare from the table he had set the rig up on, out to the veranda.

He wasn't up here very often, the top floor of the main building of the villa, the east-facing veranda. But still, it was perfect for his-- /their/ needs. It was an elegant setup, though, a shame that he hadn't enjoyed it more. Delicate white wooden furniture and maroon accents, like most of the house, but here they were even more pronounced against the copious amounts of glass that made up the wide windows.

He caught a reflection of himself in one of them just then, and flinched. He'd definitely seen better days, once-handsome face sunken in and ashen white, still-sharp eyes glittering out from dark sockets. He could almost see his fangs past deathly pale lips. They were near-always out nowadays. he was just so hungry, he couldn't help it. So hungry.

He adjusted his tie futilely, his suit handing loose around his malnourished body. He couldn't remember the last time he'd fed. There were barely any of the Clan of Kings left in the Jet City, and he'd even sent his beloved childe away so she could perhaps escape her death at his fangs. But that couldn't last, and he knew it - perhaps, he thought, he had really sent her away so he wouldn't have to see her like he was now.

He turned the record player on now, and in a few moments it started to warble out its crackly, old tune, that old 30s sound he hadn't heard in a long time.

//Goodnight sweetheart, all my prayers are for you
Goodnight sweetheart, I’ll be watching o’er you//

He moved from the record player on the table to stand in the doorway flanked by windows. A figure was seated in one of the chairs on the veranda proper, his chin resting in his hands as he stared forlornly toward the city not too far off as it glittered in the coming dawn. The Prince checked his watch. 7:36.

//Tears and parting may make us forlorn
But with the dawn, a new day is born
So I’ll say, Goodnight sweetheart, sleep will banish sorrow//

He moved closer, gently resting his thin hand on the other man's shoulder. He barely looked up, those pink-purple eyes glittering oddly in the light, rimmed with red. The Prince offered a thin smile - the best he could do. He showed the other man his watch, and he nodded, turning back to the cityscape. Rosy fingers of sunlight were just starting to peek over the horizon.

//Goodnight sweetheart, when we meet tomorrow
Dreams will enfold you, in each one I’ll hold you
Goodnight sweetheart, goodnight.//

"So, this is it, huh?"

"It seems so."

"Mmmh. I won't lie and say I was expecting it to be like this..."

"I didn't either, but... It's been a long time since I last saw a sunrise..."

"Right."

//Goodnight sweetheart, sleep will banish sorrow
Goodnight sweetheart, when we meet tomorrow
Though I’m not beside you, still my love will guide you
Goodnight sweetheart, goodnight.//

The Prince sat next to his companion and leaned back against the chair, blue eyes half-lidded as he watched the sun slowly rise. He could already feel his skin starting to prickle.

He felt his companion's head fall against his shoulder, face-down, and the scent and feel of tears was unmistakable, but he didn't mention it. He shut his eyes.

The record was still playing.