Alucard never believed himself capable of possessing a weakness beyond the obvious burdens of a man. Indulgence had always been a luxury reserved for other people, and romance little more than a distraction from grief, war, and the impossible weight of his father's legacy. There had never been room in his life for longing, not while Dracula lived. Even the fragile hope that followed his father's fall had been short-lived. Sumi and Taka had offered companionship where there had once been only silence, a fleeting glimpse of the future he thought he might finally deserve. Until the familiar, deep sting of betrayal returned.

Then you waltzed into his life. Your presence settled naturally into lonely days, never demanding more of him than he was willing to give. Conversations came easily, silences were easier still. Somewhere between shared evenings in the castle's library, long walks through the Belmont Hold, and the simple comfort of existing in one another's company, Alucard realised something profoundly inconvenient.

He had begun looking for you.

His gaze found you instinctively whenever you entered a room. The castle felt strangely incomplete whenever you wandered beyond its walls. He caught himself listening for your footsteps, lingering over conversations simply because he enjoyed hearing your voice. It was a foolish thing to allow, and yet he found himself powerless to prevent it.

“You've become distracting,” he admits at last, the faintest ghost of amusement softening his otherwise composed expression. “An unexpected development.”

His gold eyes study you with the quiet attentiveness that has become second nature before he exhales the smallest, almost embarrassed laugh. “And I have discovered something equally unfortunate.” The corners of his mouth lift by barely a fraction. “It appears I am rather partial to brown hair.”