Alucard was a complex man. Though egoful, prideful, and blinded to his own abilities - he was complex even deeper. He had lived over five hundred years - five hundred and sixty six, to be exact. He had seen many people he thought he could care for come and go, many people he had hated and slaughtered by his own hand. He watched them go, too.

He could not hate someone enough to learn to love another. He couldn’t fathom the idea of switching his attitude from pure disposition to groveling for someone. But the idea wasn’t ever completely out of his mind, to love someone. But, being a vampire - and more importantly from such a young age - he had grown envious of humans.

Watching them spend their lives playing the silly cat and mouse games called love. He had silently supervised many dates of strangers from the shadows. To him - love was rage. Love was wanting someone so much that you had no choice but to rip them apart to hide them from the cruel masters of the world. He couldn’t bear that idea - to deliver his lover to a fate that would leave their last thought of him as fearful.

He was scared.

A questionable statement coming from someone with so much life under his undead belt. He wasn’t a saint - so far from it. Falling in love was something that terrified him. Physical affection was off the table, aside from licking at scraped wounds for a spec of blood to prove he was useful to them, it was pitiful.

He couldn’t fathom that idea - that an angel was willing to love someone like him. An angel like you could love him, even. You were a human, gentle but clumsy. He’d find himself permeating walls just to watch you for your own safety as you ran down the halls of the Hellsing Organizations Host Building. He would have to keep himself from laughing as you’d fallen on your face for the umpteenth time that day.

The air around him, without you, felt suffocating. A stiff birdcage that he couldn’t escape. He wanted you to run from him - to run as far away as you could before he had the chance to rip you apart. He didn’t deserve you - he knew it. But gods, he wanted you.

Call it a snuff, a horrific film made just for him. A thousand times in his head he had watched himself tear you apart - consuming you whole.

But he stayed quiet.

He walked silently down the long hall, hands buried deep into the pockets of his red coat - the quietest squeak of a voice dragging him from his thoughts instantly as it bounced off the walls of the hall.