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Living with Vlad, human as you were, had always been quite difficult logistically. His many pantries were void of anything resembling human food, the many guest bedrooms in the castle covered in thick layers of dust from disuse. Worst of all, you and your beloved had polar opposite sleeping patterns.
This was an issue the two of you had yet to rectify. As, of course, you could not live only at night — all of your other loved ones, including your human friends and family, were diurnal. But Vlad also could not possibly give up his nocturnal habits; he’d have to be trapped inside or under a parasol constantly. Neither of you were willing to give up your own lives or to sacrifice the lives of your other, and so came the delicate dusks and dawns.
When you would awake as the sun rose, peaking through some of the castle’s many windows, your love would often be there to greet you as he made his way to bed. It was the opposite when the sun fell — with you retiring to sleep as Vlad woke. You would catch one another in the hallways, putting your schedules on pause to embrace for far too long and share indulgent kisses. The two of you longed to spend both day and night together, and yet neither of your sacrifices would be fair, so you spent some time ignoring it and pretending as if the issue had never arisen in the first place.
In the midst of such a difficult stalemate, you take refuge in your favourite drawing room in Vlad’s castle, the one with the two matching plush armchairs that sat close to a large hearth, that could warm the room in mere moments when lit. It was both frigid and midday, and so you were unwilling to bother your husband to warm you and instead sought the company of this charming room. Vlad had noticed your adoration for it many moons ago, and so you had woken to a bookshelf full of your favourite reads from his collection stored there, for you to browse at your leisure.
And so that is what you did now, studying one of Vlad’s really quite old notebooks, dated in the mid twelve-hundreds. It was long before your family even existed, of course, but glimmers of the Vlad you knew even now, over two hundred years later, shone through in every page. His loopy handwriting was even more pronounced here across the pages, it seems he’d tired of it over the years. His scholarly side was on full display — you only ever saw glimpses of it, in the small history lessons he would drop into conversation, or how he seemed to have an intimate knowledge of every piece nature and machinery alike that he came across, handling it as if it were an old friend.
He really was quite wonderful. Though, you supposed as you flipped another page, you were quite biased. Most humans were right to be scared of him; from his nature as a vampire, to his stature, to the centuries worth of knowledge built up in not only his mind, but the spiralling, strange silhouette of his castle. But when one was allowed to see past the curtain, Vlad became a whole new man. Devoted and loyal like no other mortal you’d been with; showing his affection with kind gestures that came from his hawk-like watch over you.
And there was something charming in his lack of response when you did anything remotely similar for him. His sickly paleness had been painted with a slight blush when you began cultivating the wild flowers that were growing outside of the castle, and made your own bouquet for him. Your hands were still a touch muddy given that you’d just picked the flowers, but Vlad didn’t bat an eye. He seemed stupefied that anyone could even conceptualise him as worthy of affection, at least in the present.
You knew he’d been married before. It was one of the first things he told you about himself. Lisa was her name, and her portrait still hung in your husband’s study. You supposed — because Vlad was never really open to the conversation — that Vlad had never thought he’d love again. So when you came along, beautiful and charming as you were to him, he treated you carefully. Every measurable show of affection, from the kisses you shared to the gifts that appear in your chambers after your husband leaves the castle for some time, was done with caution, courtesy, and most of all: silence.
He’d never breathe a word of insecurity to you; not on purpose. But it was clear in the way Vlad hesitated before leaning in to embrace you, wanting you to reach for him first so that he knew for certain this was still something you wanted. You’d noticed but hadn’t found any sort of a way to confront him.
Luckily, it seemed you didn’t have to. This issue with your schedules seemed to be making Vlad more and more impatient. When wearily returning to bed at night, Vlad’s embrace would sometimes come to you as a surprise. His silence habit as a vampire, his intent merely to swallow you in his arms for as long as you would allow it. He would bury his face in your shoulder or the crook of your neck, often wordless since he simply did not have to explain his need to be near you.
It had been getting worse and worse. Or, rather, Vlad had been getting more and more affectionate. Some nights, he would accompany you to your chambers just to lay beside you as you fell asleep despite the fact that he was both wasting his own precious waking hours, and was wide awake.
Vlad had even awoken early one evening to hover around you before you were to go to sleep, looking mournfully out of a window, clearly in deep thought. It was several moments before he told you he was seriously considering becoming diurnal, with a deep frown on his face. You had scolded him lightly at the time. It wouldn’t be good for him, you both knew that. He had said wistfully that he was well aware, but you got the impression he wasn’t as dissuaded as you would have liked.
The door to the drawing room pushed open behind you; over the sound of the flickering hearth and the faint pitter-patter of rain on the windows, it stuck out. Especially since Vlad and you were the only residents of his castle. You peaked your head around your armchair, only seeing a black and red flash before you were being scooped up out of your chair.
You yelped involuntarily, but was unsurprised to see your husband had snatched you out of your chair, holding you snuggly against his chest. In an instant, the two of you had left the drawing room and Vlad was almost floating just barely above the ground through the labyrinth of corridors only he knew how to navigate. You attempted to ask him what he was doing up at this hour; he usually woke up in a mere six hours’ time.
Your words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Vlad pulled you closer, his eyes falling closed for a brief moment when his cheek met the top of your head. He nuzzled you with a sigh, clearly losing focus for a moment as he paused in his movements. He pulled away to look at you, and ah — that was it. He was exhausted; dishevelled hair, eyelids drooping half-closed. He was even still in his sleepwear, as you finally had the time to notice. You cupped one his cheeks with your hand, intent on wiping excess sleep from his eyes. However, there was none to be found. It seemed Vlad had not gotten a wink of sleep all day.
You held his eye for several moments more, worrying, before pulling back your hand and leaning to rest your head on his chest. You closed your eyes, listening to his slow heartbeat. He continued forward until you realised where he was taking you: his coffin room. Or, as you would put it, his bedroom.
This, too, was an unorthodox part of Vlad’s life the two of you had yet to confront: his preference of coffin over bed. You had failed to realise this until Vlad brought you across its threshold, and you eyed the sinister-looking box in the centre of the room.
You patted Vlad on the chest, reminding him you’d never slept in a coffin before, panic slowly rising in the back of your mind as you recall several horror stories you’ve read about being buried alive. No, there would not be any earth to cover you, and you’re quite sure if you became genuinely afraid Vlad would deliver you from such an uncomfortable space, but you trusted him and so you were slightly curious as to why he would even think this would work in the first instance.
The coffin opened as Vlad approached, as if making way for him. It was larger than any you’d ever seen, but your husband was a figurative giant, so that tracked. Vlad placed a chaste kiss to your temple, and lowered you inside. The lining was plush and comfortable, not unlike the many beds still present in the castle. You immediately attempted to move aside, trying to be considerate considering your severe lack of time spent asleep in a coffin.
He watched you curiously, before his lips pulled into an amused, tired smile. Your husband lay down beside you and cupped one of your cheeks in his hands, allowing you to relax and realise that there was not, in fact, any issue with space. Vlad reached an arm around your waist and pulled you in close to his body, resting his cheek on the top of your head again. You placed a hand on his chest, the other on his hip. He hummed contentedly, and it took mere moments for his breathing to even out, and for you to become confident that he had fallen asleep.
It wasn’t much warmer here than it was in the drawing room; your husband had a more subtle warmth to him than humans did, and there was no hearth in the room, nor any windows to let any sunlight in. The strange self-lighting candles that lined Vlad’s walls made the room too bright for you to sleep in, though you knew Vlad found them comforting. You were still in your day clothing, shoes and all, and yet…
This was somehow the most comfortable sleep you had had in a few months. Sleep came easier to you than you’d have ever expected.