Archive of Our Own ^beta

The hum of the night had just started to settle in, cars in the street becoming less frequent and the stars beginning to peek through the darkening sky. The crickets began singing and the daytime birds went to roost for the night. And thus, it meant it was time to wake up.
Not you, of course - your companions. You sighed as you took a final sip of your drink, back cracking slightly as you sat up from the recliner. Before you went to see them, there were things to do. Claudia preferred you grab her a comb when she awoke, despite the fact she returned to the bedroom you grab it from first thing every night. Louis frequently requested a pen and his journal– He’d grown fond of writing his dreams.
You took a moment to gather the items. Claudia’s brush was in the bedroom by the vanity, her perfumes (a large amount the sweet scent of chrysanthemum) left uncapped and strewn rather chaotically about. Louis, as near every night, had left his journal in his favorite chair near the fire place. You supposed it was time to stoke a fire anyways. They never outright said it, but a certain calm came about their features when they awoke to a contained one.
You took a moment and collected some logs from the small pile of firewood, placing them into the brick, admittedly rather clumsily but that’s entirely beyond the point. It took you a few moments to stoke the fire to life, making sure the logs caught. After this, you turned most of the lamps in the house on - you yourself couldn’t stand the overhead, but Claudia preferred most of the lights on. This was the compromise.
And with that, you had finished the first of the evening chores. So, it was time to head to the coffin room.
As expected, when you entered the lid of the coffin was already creaking open, Claudia slowly climbing out as Louis murmured something indecipherable and closed his eyes again. Oh, what a dreamer, that man.
“Good evening, Claudia,” you greeted, handing her her comb with a smile as she took it with a nod. She greeted you in return with a hum, gently brushing beside you as she headed for the bedroom.
Louis had not yet arisen. Despite the fact he was very clearly awake, he did not sit up. “Louis?” You said softly, moving to kneel beside the coffin. You gingerly placed the leatherbound journal on the floor beside you as you rested your arms atop the side of the box. “It’s 8PM, dear. I know you’re awake.”
“I don’t want to get up. I was having the most lovely dream.”
“Well, you are no longer dreaming, so I suppose you must.”
“I don’t particularly want to face the night.”
“But you must.”
Louis let out a long, dramatic groan and sat up with all the willingness of a rather grumpy teenager. He blinked at you, eyes softening just a fraction as you smiled at him. He gently cupped your face in his palm, freakishly cool against your skin. You were used to it by now, of course, but it still caught you by surprise for the first millisecond. You lean into the touch, eyes closing for a moment.
He was handsome. You told him this often, and despite himself he never truly seemed to believe it. Skin so pale it seemed akin to marble, black hair curled so prettily despite you never seeming to recall him truly taking care of it. It came about to the tops of his shoulders, curled above the edges of his collar when he wore it down. And his eyes – you’d never seen a green like that before. Both so alive and so dead, so human and so other. The two things you could point as concrete when you looked him dead in the eyes is that they held a deep loneliness, and a terrible many traumas.
For a long moment you just sat there, eyes closed as you took in his touch. Comforting, cool. Restrained.
You opened your eyes with a soft smile, leaning to gently press a kiss to his cheek before you stood up, grabbing his journal before extending a hand to him to help him up. When he stood and got out of the coffin, you smiled as he tilted your chin up to press a soft kiss to your lips before he took the journal from you.  “Thank you, my darling.” He murmured, lingering for but a moment before he pulled away. No doubt to sit by the fire and write for a while.

You took a breath before looking about the coffin room. Obviously, there was the coffins - Louis’ larger, dark and elegant coffin in the middle of the room. It was glossy black lacquer with silver adornments, and mossy green satin within to cushion from the hard painted wood that made it up. Elegant yet simple – much like the man himself. Claudia’s was quite similar - glossy black lacquer with silver adornments, though the satin within plush and white. It was much smaller, and hadn’t been used in a while – though a good indicator of when they had an argument was Claudia’s coffin being closed.
But also within the coffin room was a great many plants, paintings, and furniture. While you never had to clean them, per se, you took it upon you to do so regardless. You took some time to stack Louis’ books, strewn haphazardly across the desk. The plants got watered, the paintings dusted and fixed, and the curtains drawn once again.
You took a moment to look over the now tidied room. Despite it’s oddity, it was a part of your home now. It kept the people --well, vampires--+ you cherished most safe and well rested.

And with that done, it was time to start the night.