A/N: this is a modern au.
He's starting to think coming was a mistake.
The DuCouteau mansion is, for all of its hosts' faults, impressive. It is three floors of beautiful stonework, large windows, and rooms void of clutter yet decorated with expensive furniture and paintings. The sisters themselves do not match the grand beauty of their estate - whatever elegance they present is betrayed by their own vile nature. Katarina is brutal; Cassiopeia is venomous. Even their brother, though sparsely seen, harbours a contempt for those he doesn't want to associate with.
Their basement is finished - even in the shadow of the first stair, Karthus can tell this much. But he took refuge at the door itself, resting his arms on his knees - descending the stairs is unnecessary. He can rest here.
The door opens. Karthus turns his head to look up, and in the doorway is Vladimir.
"I've been looking for you," he says. Without prompt, Karthus moves to the side to allow him to sit next to him, the door closing behind them. They are swathed in darkness, the thin stream of light from under the door hardly illuminating anything at all. The back of Vladimir's hand touches Karthus. Karthus reaches two fingers back, hooking them with Vladimir's.
There is quiet.
"Sorry," the other then says, leaning a little more into Karthus, "I don't think you're enjoying it here."
"I am fine," Karthus responds. "I have not been harmed by the company you have introduced me to. We simply…"
With a little more shifting of his hand, Karthus now holds Vladimir's.
"… do not bond well, I suppose."
He wants to look at him. He tries to, looking through the darkness for the shape of him, but the shying light from under the door cannot illuminate him. But - he knows how he sits. He knows how his eyes look. Vladimir turns their hands, and weaves their fingers together.
"We can leave when you want. I believe I've satisfied my socialization quota for the evening."
"You are far too considerate of my comfort."
"I mean," Vladimir says with the shade of some kind of laugh, leaning into him, "I don't want to be around Katarina longer than I have to be, either."
Karthus smiles. Tentatively, with a hesitation one could only mark in the light, he returns his motion, resting his head on Vladimir's shoulder.
"In time," he replies, "I wish to sit by your side until we must depart."