You reap more than what you sow.

Daniel was reclusive. Calm, calculated and elusive, hiding eyes that could peer into one's soul behind a mask made of iron cut by ghosts. He often occupied himself with his piano or the ancient organ in the ballroom, the castle where you two resided forgotten by time itself. No one who knew of his presence knew quite what he was, nor how old he was, nor how he got there. No one truly knew him.

However, when you, a lost girl fleeing the war stumbled upon his estate deep in the woods, he took you in with open arms.

Perhaps he needed the company, or craved the presence of another. You alone had figured out that he had at least some vampiric blood within him. He was filled with foreign chemistry, speaking as soft as Lucifer with the motions of a being that knew all too much of the world. Then there was his mask that he never seemed to take off, or his silken white gloves that never left his hands. Vampires often hid their eyes, scleras an unnatural color that could frighten or entrance their victims - something you had learned from one of the many books in his library.

He found himself growing attached to you. After so many years or centuries in solitude, he found himself awaiting your daily rituals of bringing him tea or watching him play piano. Maybe he loved you. That, he would never say. He hadn't so much as grazed your hand yet, let alone show any signs of affection. Though he was realizing now that he wanted to.

He wanted to learn about you, your talents and aspirations. Your tragedies and shortcomings, your desires and needs.

All those you never spoke of, mirroring his own indomitable silence of his own regards.

"Come." Was all he said, twitching a finger loosely in your direction to insinuate that he wanted you to sit beside him on the piano bench. Though his eyes were covered, you knew he could see you all too clearly.