Dreams
For: Laura, who has weird pairings on her mind.
By: Inyx, who just proved to herself she could do anything.
Notes: For my first ever sort-of-fan!
He awoke screaming, like so many times before. But this time was different. This time, when he woke, there were two arms wrapped around him pressing him against something warm. Pressing him against something hairy. He struggled to get loose, and the arms eased their grip.
"Harkat, it's me! It's Vancha!" the urgent whisper was close to the place his ears should have been sticking out. Harkat looked up, big green eyes meeting the Prince's. "You had a bad dream," the scruffy Prince explained. Harkat nodded, slowly. He had figured that out by himself. "Did I wake... everyone up?" Vancha shook his head, and smiled.
"No, just me." The Little Person fascinated him to no ends. He had always believed dreams were more than just your imagination and Harkats dreams intrigued him. He could spend hours discussing the subject with his small friend, by the campfire. After all the long conversations he had found out so much about the Little Person. Harkat was very intelligent, and had a good sense of humour.
"Sorry."
"It's fine," the vampire grunted and pulled the deer-skin up further, keeping one arm casually wrapped around Harkat. At the other side of the burnt out campfire, Larten and Darren were laying suspiciously close. The grunts coming from the pile of deer-skins weren't very normal either. He chuckled before looking back to his smaller friend.
Harkat had presumably gotton comfortable under his arm, his green eyes glazed over. Another interesting thing. Vancha sighed and shifted closer. The way Harkat felt against his body was unsual. He seemed to fit, the small form molding against his body. The vampire grinned to himself and pulled Harkat closer. He could always say he had done so in his sleep, if the Little Person asked. Pressing his face against the fabric of the blue hood, he smiled.
The vampire looked down. It was impossible to see if Harkat was asleep or not. Vancha figured he was, or he would have pushed him away by now. He was used to being pushed away. He didn't fit in very well with most vampires. They respected him, and some saw him as a friend, but something more... he didn't think he would ever be so lucky. After all, who would want a dirty, smelly, rude vampire like him?
Wrapping his arms tighter around Harkat, Vancha smiled and pressed his lips against the blue fabric of Harkat's hood.
"Goodnight, my friend."
"Goodnight, Vancha."
Fin
