Page 34 of The Vampire's Receptionist
Dorian’s head tipped ever so slightly as he studied him. “You’re bored, aren’t you?”
With a huff, he pulled his knees closer to his chest and dropped his head onto them. “Yes…” he replied, voice muffled.
It felt wrong to complain, especially to Dorian. He was supposed to be getting better so Dorian could feed without worrying about him. But sitting still had never been his thing. He didn’t even own a tv, because he never sat still long enough to enjoy a show.
He heard Dorian chuckle, but he didn’t look up. He was too annoyed with himself and the world at large for keeping him trapped in bed. He didn't want to take his mood out on Dorian.
“If I may,” Dorian requested, gesturing at him as Kian looked up.
“Wha– Woah!” He scrambled when Dorian easily scooped him out of the bed, despite them being nearly the same height. Kian latched onto Dorian’s shoulders, gaping at him as Dorian carried him out of the room and down the stairs, where even more plants were spilling out of the media room and the library, too.
“Did you fill the entire house?” he blurted out, gaping as Dorian brought him into the media room and sat him on the deep couch.
“I wanted you to feel comfortable in whatever room you were resting in,” Dorian replied easily. “Would you like a movie or to play a game? Avery showed me a closet full of games he and Ozen have collected since he moved in. There’s quite a variety.”
So he was just going to skip past the fact that he filled a house that didn’t belong to him full of plants just because they made Kian happy? Kian felt a little like the vampire needed to come with a warning label. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up falling for the guy.
“Harlem has taught me how to play a few of them, but not all, I’m afraid. He asked to stop by later, though, so he can explain any you aren’t familiar with, I’m sure.”
The sudden reminder that Dorian was taken hit Kian like a sledgehammer. He couldn’t fall for the guy, because he had no chance with him. Dorian was taken and Kian… Kian would go back to his tiny apartment with his plants to keep him company as soon as the doctor figured out how to help Dorian. This was all temporary. He couldn’t forget that.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dorian felt the subtle shift in Kian’s mood, but he couldn’t place why. And the stubborn man was good at hiding it behind a smile. He chose a game to play that they were both familiar with and kept the smile in place, masking the guarded expression he was trying to hide. Dorian had hoped to make Kian happy by buying the plants, but if anything, it only made things more awkward. He wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Thankfully, Harlem texted him to let him know he was coming over before Dorian said anything else to make the situation more tense. Harlem was much more social than Dorian was. He hoped his friend would be able to figure out how Dorian could make things easier on Kian.
He excused himself between rounds of their game to open the door when Harlem said he was outside. Ozen’s wards wouldn’t allow him entry without being invited in first, even if the door was unlocked. He opened the front door, beckoning his friend, who was eyeing the house critically.
“Think anyone in this neighborhood would ever want to move? I feel like I could happily settle here, but these places almost never go up for sale.”
“There’s always a chance,” Dorian said, stepping aside to let Harlem in. “I suggest finding a realtor to watch the area if you’re interested. The properties go fast when they come to market.” He would know, since he lived only a few blocks away. He had to have two realtors working together to get his bid in for his home. He was pretty sure he only got it because he offered to pay far above asking in cash.
Harlem immediately wrapped his arms around Dorian’s middle for a hug, squeezing tightly. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you. I was really worried.”
Dorian hugged him back. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
He stepped back, looking him up and down. “How are you? Are you feeling better? How’s Kian?”
Chuckling, Dorian put a guiding hand on Harlem’s shoulder, leading him towards the stairs. “I’m much better. While we still don’t understand why I can only consume Kian’s blood, he’s been vigilant in making sure I’m fed. As for how he’s doing…” Dorian wanted to say Kian was fine but that felt like a lie. Kian was recovering a lot slower than he was because he was still required to feed Dorian during his recovery. Dorian was grateful that Doctor Chapman agreed to move to twice a day feedings instead of every few hours.
“How about you ask him yourself?” Dorian said, in lieu of answering. Maybe Harlem could get Kian to open up better than he could.
Harlem didn’t seem to pick up on Dorian’s difficulty in answering the question, making comments on his thoughts on Ozen’s home as they made their way to the media room. If Ozen wasn’t careful, he’d end up with a very vibrant neighbor as soon as Harlem could convince the neighbors to sell.
Kian was right where Dorian had left him, toying idly with the pieces of the game they’d been playing. Before he realized they were coming, Dorian saw the strain in his face, the slightpull between his brows. He was obviously unhappy. He masked the emotions when he became aware that he wasn’t alone, plastering that same fake smile on his face as Harlem hurried around the sofa to hug him.
“Kian! How are you?” Harlem asked, squeezing Kian’s shoulders tightly. He leaned back, giving Kian the same cursory look he’d given Dorian. “You look pale. And you feel chilled. Are you not feeling well? Do you need a blanket?”
One of the things that made Harlem a wonderful feeder was his natural need to care for his friends. He was a wonderful host at parties and fussed over Dorian whenever he had a long day. Kian seemed uncomfortable with the attention, however, and sank a little more into the cushions of the sofa to put space between himself and Harlem.
“I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”
Harlem was a lot like Taron, always happy to be chatty, and immediately sat beside Kian, regaling him with stories about his day. While they spoke, Dorian fetched a blanket from the end of the couch, carefully covering Kian’s legs without a word. Kian’s smile was polite, but didn't reach his eyes, and he seemed uneasy when he gave his attention back to Harlem.
The awkwardness unsettled Dorian, and his chest felt tight with the discomfort. His now almost obsessive need to fix things for Kian, to make things easier on him, was making things worse, and he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
“I’m going to start on supper. I’ll be downstairs if anyone needs me,” he said, desperate to put some distance between them before he stuck his foot in his mouth and made things even more awkward. Maybe food would put Kian in a better mood, and Dorian could finally figure out what he’d done wrong.
