Warnings for this chapter: Homestuck references (which are probably wrong), swearing, and a bipolar Romano.
Ivan felt accomplished, yet he also felt a bit disappointed—Lovino had fallen for his charm (or so he likes to believe). He would also like to think that he was saved because the other believed that he should be pitied (and not feared).
If he had to be completely honest, he also feared that he was losing his evilness. He knew that all demons were created to be evil, to plague the earth with their sins, and to cause others to sin as well as them. If he were to actually look at it, he was supposed to be the very image of evil, the very image of fear.
It didn't matter, though, as he had to thank his "savior" in the best way possible (which makes him think that maybe, maybe he was becoming more like an incubus).
He also knew that, despite what he believes, he may not be able to reach out to the person he wants. He knew that, even if he tried his best, he would lose Lovino if did one thing wrong.
He knows that, if he were to look at his situation too closely, he'd see things that he didn't want to see. He knew that it would end this way, subconsciously, but it still hits as hard as it would have if he had not known long before this.
It was not a nice thought, falling in love with someone, but it still didn't amuse him (or make him open to anything) because the person he fell in love with was a human. While it didn't mean anything to him (usually), he did have a reputation that was depending on his ability to love someone other than a human. He also knew that he was someone that many young vampires look up to (something that he doesn't take lightly), and that falling in love with a human wouldn't send a positive message.
Then, he looks up to the human (Lovino, his mind happily supplied), and decides that he doesn't care about their opinions—not that he ever cared for them before. He doesn't care that he'll lose his so-called terror, but it was worth it if he could get Lovino to look at him with such happiness, with love.
Of course, he has no such luck with that, and instead is left with Lovino now seething with barely concealed rage (that really made no difference because he was too high on his newfound love). Ivan has no choice but to hear the harsh breathing, and to wonder about his love's sudden mood swing. Last time he checked, which was just a minute ago, Lovino was as calm as the sky is when there is no sign of a storm, yet now, he looks prepared to snap, to bring the curtain down on his calm façade.
In what he hoped would be perceived as a smooth, innocent move, and not as an attempt to get Lovino to snap even more, he murmured, "You fell for me so quickly." Before he knew it, the brunette exploded, screaming horrible words that should never be heard.
"YOU—YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE! I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT TO ME!"
While he griped about being accused of something so untrue, which he took as his instant denial (a habit of his that Ivan named without asking), he couldn't help but to chuckle at the brunette's expression. He looked so angered, so frustrated, yet he couldn't help but to find it adorable.
His face was flushed red from the anger (and maybe the lack of oxygenated blood to the head, since he believed that Lovino wasn't breathing while he ranted), his eye were bright with some emotion (anger, Ivan's mind "helpfully" supplied), and he wouldn't look at him while he ranted.
All in all, Ivan believed that this was all that he needed—the brunette's denial sounded like one he would use to avoid telling the truth. It was like he knew what he was after, and he knew that he wouldn't stop for anything, as long as he could get the item of his desire.
That would have to wait, though, as Lovino suddenly stopped. He didn't expect the Italian to stop mid-way through his rant, but, by the look on his face, he suddenly realized that he was so out of it that he didn't notice that the cute human boy finished his rant long ago.
It didn't really matter, he thought, as Lovino would soon break out with another rant (probably longer than the first one), but he doesn't mind because it's Lovino, the cute, little boy who'd won his heart (quite suddenly, he had to admit.)
He had to admit that while he may not be that enthusiastic to meet Yao again (especially since his lover, Kiku, was out to kill him—something he failed at), he might just look him up. He wanted to go to his former boyfriend—he thought that was appropriate for Yao—and show him that he was able to find a mate.
He knew that he would soon have to introduce Lovino to the world of the supernatural, and convince him it's real, and he knew that Lovino wouldn't pay any attention to him. He knew that he would have to teach Lovino of the behavior expected of demons—of the devils—but he knew that Lovino was a Catholic (and therefore wary of the devils).
He thought of the screwed up things Kiku mentioned to him (Homestuck, he thought quite suddenly), and he thought of the names he mentioned for the trolls. More specifically, he thought of the names of the types of relationships—Matesprit, Morailes, and Kismesis—the ones that mattered. He knew that there was another one (one with a troll being a mediator for the Kismesis relationship), but it didn't matter to him.
Then he realized that he had yet to do what he planned on doing, and he planned on completing it sometime this night—he assumed it was a little past seven by the position of the moon (and the date). He assumed that Lovino would have no problem with his plan—he rarely complains about him, now that he thinks about it.
He realized that Lovino didn't care for the creepiness, that Lovino was fine with him stalking him for the most part. He realized that Lovino was fine with him being him—he was fine with the bipolar tendencies he would often show, and he's fine with the childish attitude. He realized that he only complains about the lack of tact, if only that.
He realized that he never heard Lovino cry in rage about his "heartless" state—not that he willingly showed it to him. He thought that he only showed it once (when he was in too close proximity with his target, and there was a very annoying human), but that may be wrong, and he may have shown it on multiple occasions (if he actually bothered to think back on it, he would realize that he has shown it many, many times—up to the point that it doesn't matter).
He doesn't notice the anger that has receded from his gaze, and therefore leaving an awe that he doesn't register, but he suddenly heard Lovino clear his throat, as if to catch his attention. He smiled in what he hoped was a warm gesture, and he sees Lovino roll his eyes, and he noticed that Lovino was acting the same way he was acting around his brother.
He doesn't understand what changed so suddenly that Lovino could bear to be next to him without fear—maybe the fear had never been there, and he just never noticed. There were many things that he wanted to question, but he was getting ahead of himself, and therefore making a fool out of himself. It would do him no good to make himself look more idiotic than he already looked (he wouldn't be able to get very far if it was that).
But, now, he had to tackle the huge problem—his Lovino was currently expecting something from him, something that he couldn't answer honestly. The Italian had already shown distaste towards the supernatural; he assumes that it's part of being raised during the late twentieth century and living in the twenty-first century. He doesn't think his task will be easy (in fact, he thinks it'll be downright impossible), but he will still try. He will still try to convince the Italian of the supernatural world—one that has werewolves, vampires, witches and other creatures.
It wasn't something that he was really happy to attempt to do, but he knew that he couldn't expect Lovino to stay with him (and it'd be near impossible to explain why he wasn't aging in the first place—might allow Lovi to realize that there are many creatures out there, though.) He realized that Lovino would be waiting for his explanation of what happened, something that he doesn't want to do for said reasons, but he, like he mentioned before, had to.
He liked the fact that he would be able to spend time with Lovi, though. He wanted to be able to go right up to him, wrap his arms around his waist, and pick him up. He wanted it so badly that it was an undeniable urge—he found himself holding Lovi close to him, and pressing his lips against his neck. While the blood flowing through the veins tempted him, he was able to repress the urge with the thought of the agony that would follow if Lovi was to ever die.
He chuckled softly as he murmured, "Those idiots were right. Those idiots were telling the truth. I am a vampire."
He wasn't expecting the sudden attack from Lovi, but he found Lovino's fist going for his face. He easily held him back, but it was irritating, that his future lover was attacking him. He didn't like it; he didn't like it at all. It was a hard feat, but he managed to accomplish what he wanted—he was calm and cool, avoiding the imminent snap that would kill his future lover.
"Vampire my ass," Lovino suddenly muttered. "If you're a vampire, why don't you sparkle?"
He found himself smiling evilly at his Italian, and he muttered, "Those cursed books are nothing but lies about the vampire race. We don't sparkle, yet we're not harmed by the sun. In fact, if the sun is out, the only thing that's affected is our mood. Vampires are very, very irritated when exposed to the sun."
"That only answers one thing. Why aren't your eyes red or whatever color they are when you are full?" Lovino was really testing his patience, which wasn't a good thing for either of them.
"I'm sorry to disappoint, but my eyes are red. Only my eyes, and Gil's eyes—if you really count him—are red for reasons we don't know. My eyes are purple in color, though, because of the contact lenses I'm forced to wear," he said. "If it weren't for that, then you'd see scary red eyes."
He could see that Lovino wasn't placated yet, though. He could see, through the anger, that something else was lingering there. He could see that Lovino still didn't believe him, and he could see that his hurtful comments was just his way of saying that he's not one to be fucked with—it still hurt him, even knowing all of that.
"Do you drink animal blood?" He could hear the mocking tone, could hear that he honestly believed that he, Ivan, would drink the blood of such lowly creatures. It angered him even more than before—he was beyond furious. Even though he was holding back the urge to kill him, his vision wasn't tainted red, and he could clearly see his target. It terrified him.
"I don't know where you got such a ridiculous idea, but I don't drink poisonous blood." While animal blood didn't kill vampires, the blood did sap some of their strength. It wasn't the worst thing that's ever happen, he would admit, but it was bad enough—even he knew the power that comes from being fully fed.
"Oh, looks like that book is bullshit," he heard Lovino muttered to himself. "Are you sure that you're a vampire?" He could hear the skeptical edge in his voice, and if he had been paying attention to the psychological state of the twenty-first century instead of his anger, he would have realized that it was only because of his upbringing that he doubted the supernatural world—he didn't think anything bad of Ivan (or so he hoped.)
"Yes, I am a vampire," he hissed through his teeth. At normal times, he would love the ignorance of the humans—he didn't like the humans that tried to use garlic and stakes—but he was actually being hurt by his ignorance. "Maybe I have to show you." Even as he said that, he wondered about how he could actually accomplish that.
"By what? Biting me?" His voice still had that taunting edge to it, and that just made it worse for Ivan. He clenched his teeth, turned, and fled the scene. He could see that he was really close to biting Lovino, and killing him. Even then, with the sane side of him telling him to stay away from Lovi, he found himself looking for the Italian, but found an empty home with no hint of the Italian.
This pattern of him disappearing and Ivan not being able to find him continued for at least a week before Ivan got fed up with it, and hunted him down. The fact that he found Lovino in his house that day, plus the fact that it was noon, didn't make him the most tolerant person on the planet, and that's how he found himself standing in front of Lovino with his fangs bared (again).
"You stayed away from me," he whispered softly, sounding kind and caring—it almost made him laugh. "You said you loved me—" he listened to Lovino automatically argue against that point, but continued. "—but you keep running away from me."
"Fuck! I don't love you, you bastard! WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT?" He silently laughed as the Italian ranted (once again) about how he was creepy, how he was annoying, but never mentioned that he would like Ivan to leave his house.
"Do you want me to leave~?" He couldn't help but to allow himself to grin that 'creepy' grin that would often cause cardiac arrest within the human population. "Do you want to send me away~?"
"Yes! I've been telling you that!"
Ivan chuckled at the blatant lie. "I'll leave~" He grinned, looking like a maniac. "And I'll take you with me~"
He could see it on Lovino's face, and it was like he could actually hear Lovino's thoughts. He knew that the Italian wished that he never sent away the two magicians—Alfred and Arthur.
