The sounds of classical music coming from the main ballroom inside of The Institute puts Steve somewhat at ease. Although he’s accustomed to attending events such as these, the presence of pretentious donors has always set his teeth on edge. Due to his station, he is expected to make appearances at the courts but finds the task tedious without someone on his arm to cherish and spoil. A small smile does pull at his lips though as he finally steps inside the massive space. He sees round tables draped in fine off white linens for table cloths with bold, scarlet flower arrangements gracing the center of each. Gold plated Chiavari chairs match the setting places at the tables, and he can guess that there are heavy placards with each guest’s name written in elegant script.
Weaving his way through the tables to find his own, an intriguing scent catches his attention. It’s almost sweet and has an underlying note of drying moss. He turns slowly, taking in the other attendees, as he tries to parse out where exactly such an aroma is coming from. A tall brunet passes by him then and the scent becomes almost sickly sweet. Underneath that, though, Steve can tell that there is more. He tries to follow the young man but yet another scent seems to block him in his path. It’s the scent of copper, dried flowers, and fallen snow.
“The pickings sure do seem slim this year, don’t they?”
A wry smile graces his lips at the accented voice, it belongs to a woman he’s known for quite some time now. Turning to face her, he steps into her outstretched arm and receives her embrace. “I assure you that I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean, Peggy.”
“Come now, Steven, don’t play coy with me. We’ve known each other for at least a century now,” she whispers in his ear. “You don’t have to hide from me. Besides, it would be good of you to finally find what you’ve been searching for.”
He chuckles. “And you believe that here is where I’ll find it.”
“Why not, darling? Don’t you already feel the eyes on us?”
Having eyes on him is something Steve has grown used to over the years, but he can acknowledge that the gaze he feels on his back is weighted somehow. He can’t help but wonder if the owner of this gaze and that intriguing scent from earlier, are one and the same. He can’t resist the urge to turn and find out. What he finds is the hustling and bustling of the Institute’s students in their server uniforms as they flit in and about the ballroom. They all smell mundane, their blood calls to him a little but nothing he can’t manage. That gaze is still following him though, that scent still clings to his nose, and yet he cannot manage to catch the beguiling creature it belongs to.
“Welcome, everyone, to this year’s Donor Appreciation Banquet!” Yet another voice Steve is familiar with rings out in the ballroom. The infamous Contessa, and headmistress of this boarding school, brings everyone to attention and sadly draws that curious gaze away from him. “We are honored to host you all this evening. Please, take your seats and our servers will be right with you.”
“Come, darling, our seats are at the same table.”
A derisive chuckle slips through his lips because of course, he and Peggy would be seated together. Despite the fact that they look nothing alike, the Contessa has somehow managed to suss out that the two of them are somehow connected to one another and not by marriage.
By the time Steve is sitting comfortably at his assigned spot, that scent from earlier fills his nose again. That sickly sweet aroma is now mellowed but delightful like caramelized sugar, and rounded off with hints of dried flowers. He subtly searches for the owner of that scent, the common denominator between it and that of Peggy’s is staggering to say the least. There hasn’t been another vampire in New York for at least five years. He breathes in slowly, the scent washes over him like gentle rainfall. It’s then that he realizes something else about the scent that he hadn’t noticed under the dryness of those telltale blooms. There’s just a trace of sandalwood, an aroma that is normally found in the blood of his winged kin. Perhaps the owner isn’t a vampire at all. Steve’s breath catches in his throat when he finally sees brunet hair as a young man passes out menus to all the guests seated at his table. He realizes then that the owner of that scent is no mere young man, but a beautiful boy.
Steve watches as the boy’s cheeks bloom scarlet under his attentions, he wonders how far that blush would travel once he gets his hands on that supple porcelain skin. He wonders what it would be like to nibble at the nape of the boy’s neck, listening to the sweet mewls that are bound to slip from spit slick lips as he trails his tongue across youthful flesh. He wonders what it would feel like to devour the boy whole. Such thoughts cause his trousers to tighten as he watches the boy service their table. Clearing his throat, a secretive smile graces his lips as he turns his gaze to Peggy. To his utter surprise, he watches as his dear cousin turns her gaze onto a fiery red head. Perhaps the pickings this year weren’t slim at all, how fortuitous for them both. A pleased chuckle slips through his lips at the notion. What began as a tiresome chore of an event has become something increasingly more enticing by the minute. He has got to figure out a way to get the boy alone.
“I see you found your little one, Steven.” Peggy’s voice flits into his ears like a ballerina across a stage.
“I believe I have.”
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