Seeing Eric smile like that made Godric let out a soft purr, enjoying very much what he saw. But not just that, he also liked what the other said. Which wasn’t all that surprising.
"I am glad", he answered, wanting to lean in to kiss Eric again. But his face was held by one of Eric’s large hands and Godric had to look at the other instead of moving closer.
Avoiding confrontation? Maybe he was, but that wasn’t what this was about. Still, when Eric went on, Godric couldn’t help but loose his smile, staring at the viking.
"Are you assuming I have ever not been honest with you?", he asked quietly, studying the other’s face. "I promised you once not to lie to you and I intent to keep that promise until the day I meet the True Death." Which would be rather sooner than later, if Godric had his wish.
"I am telling you what I can. But I never lie. You know that."
"I never said that." His eyes bore into his maker’s with intense adoration, yet there was an edge of seriousness to them. Eric wanted Godric to know that he wouldn’t push him on this. Unless of course he thought that there was a threat to his maker’s existence, and then he would not hesitate to destroy whoever stood in his way to protect Godric.
"I only meant that we do not have to talk about whatever is bothering you but that if you feel like opening up later ,” a brow rose suggestively on that word. “Then I will not be opposed to listening to what you have to say. If you want to say it.”
The hand that had been on Godric’s face was now stroking his soft hair, combing through it affectionately. Although Eric’s body still craved contact of a different sort. His hips shifted uncomfortably.
"None of your business."
"What the Greyface and I have is special."
if claric had a kid there’s a chance it would grow up to look like this:
"There are many fake friends and the loyal seem to die young." Sansa had lost her only friend that came with her to kings landing. "Pardon me ser, I did not mean to offend you. Being fearful does mean a man is not a fool." Sansa turned to look at the kinght that was walking next to her, ‘he has such a lovely face’, she thought. He made her nervous, when she got nervous she began to pick her scab on her lip till it bled. Joffrey had found her bruised scabby lip disgusting and had told his guards to not beat her face anymore, but her lower body. "Are you here to stay for a while?" Sansa began to get jittery and began to pick at her scab.
That was how it went unfortunately. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair but Eric had seen the good and loyal die well before their time in the name of injustice. While the corrupt and undeserving seemed to thrive. He frowned the more he thought about it.
After a moment of silence, Eric turned his head to look at Sansa again. “I will stay for as long as I think is necessary,” he replied. Whether that be immediately following the wedding or longer… Eric had a feeling there would be chaos shortly. Places like these didn’t stay peaceful for long, or ever. “I am not too fond of the south, to be honest. I much prefer the north. Perhaps that is where I shall go next.”
"I’ll try my best not to," Clara laughed, shaking her head at this confident tone. This conversation was surprise after surprise, and in perhaps the best way possible. She liked the fact that things were changing between them. There was no hardly any annoyance present at the current time, and it was nice. She wanted things to stay like that, and she hoped that Eric did too.
She snorted. “Do I detect sarcasm there, Mr Northman?” she asked him, a smirk playing at her lips. The fact he had even watched The Notebook was impressive. It was a proper sobbing movie, Clara had found when she watched it, but she had been able to pull herself together the moment after it had finished.
"I wouldn’t say I was foolish to do that…” Clara replied. “It’s appropriate and I’m surprised nobody’s decided to call you that before, actually,” she took pride in the fact she had been the first one to call him that. Clara wanted it to remain something that only she could call him. “Yes, I want to stay at your place,” she said, totally deadpan. “And I can tell you’re smiling, Eric it’s obvious!”
"I’m hardly ever sarcastic Clara, really." Even he couldn’t keep a straight face as he uttered the words. "Or at least I wouldn’t choose to be with you." Why was he being so flirty? Well… He did have to admit even in the privacy of his own thoughts that he did find Clara to be attractive, and attractive women happened to be a big thing of interest to Eric. It was more than that though, more then just a nuanced attempt to get into her pants. He could tell that there was something more brewing in the recesses of his mind.
"Nobody calls me by a nickname. They know better than that." Not even Pam referred to him as anything other than his very own given name; at least not to his face. Eric’s mere presence demanded some sort of respect for who and what he was. People would be too fearful, and therefore smart enough to know better than to call him names. Only he didn’t mind that Clara did it.
"Perhaps I am just playing favorites," he said aloud. Then there was a pause for him to hear yet again that she wanted to stay with him. "That doesn’t make you nervous, to sleep under the roof of a powerful vampire?" Who has lashed out at you in the past. He wasn’t smiling, not now. Although he did want Clara to want to stay with him, he couldn’t help but think about the last time she had been at his house. He hadn’t acted very… hospitable.
“You are way proud, aren’t you? You know that you are not fine. I cannot live you like that. You are in pain and you need some help” He said as he continued helping him to walk. Luckily, the streets were relatively lonely except by the occasional person whose shift started way early in the morning. The first rays of lights were coming out in the horizon making the darkness little by little to fade out; soon it would be daylight.
“I cannot take you to the hospital, I cannot take you to the station. What should I do then?” He said as he spotted the man had still some chains wrapped around his body. Dick looked hesitant at him for a second as if he was trying to decide whether to speak his mind or not. “Ehm, can’t you take those chains off yourself?” He replied visibly worried as the sun little by little started rising in the horizon.
“Look, my apartment is a block away from here. I can call a cab” He commented as his eyes widen in surprised when the man mentioned Shreveport. “Shreveport as in Shreveport, Louisiana? Well, Dorothy, you are far away from home. You are in New York. I don’t know how long you were out but you are far away from home now” He finally commented.
"I’m not fine now but I will be soon." As soon as he found a place to go to ground. If the sun rose while he was in this already weakened state, he had absolutely no hope of surviving. He hated that he had to depend on someone else too, someone whom he would most likely have to dispose of by the night’s end.
"Just get me a cab. Or take me home yourself. I don’t care… Let’s just get there before the sun rises." Bringing one bloody hand up to his neck, Eric groped around for any sort of lock. The silver burned his flesh all over again, creating uncomfortable blisters on his finger tips. "Fuck," he barked. It figured that he would be without a key. "I don’t want to go to your apartment," he interjected angrily. Eric was ready to command that the man take him back to Fangtasia when he thought he heard him say that he was in New York.
"What?" His voice sounded very far away. "You’ve got to be shitting me right now."
Name: Eric Northman
Eye Color: Light blue
Hair Color: Blond
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual (although tends to lean more towards the female gender)
Nationality: Svwdish, ya
Allergies: The sun, silver, bullshit
Fears: Losing his family
How often do they hurt themselves: Very rarely
Relationship Status: Nonexistent
- HP: UMBRIDGE
- Sherlock: ANDERSON
- Night Vale: STEVE CARLSBURG
- Doctor Who: DALEKS
- Supernatural: METATRON
- Hannibal: HANNIBAL
- Merlin: AGRAVAINE
- Homestuck: ARANEA
- Fairly Odd Parents: DINKLEBERG
- True Blood: BUCKNER