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[gyrannus-pasilton-trimm-bitch]

Strangers Like Me || Open RP

Baz knew he didn't know anything about being a vampire, but he didn't realize just how clueless he was until Eliot clocked him coming into the library. He'd chosen to sit at one of the long reading tables in the center of the room and was leaning down to retrieve a textbook from his satchel.

"I know your secret," He felt the whisper on his ear as much as he heard it. He forced himself not to turn around, not to give in to the mysterious voice. "I'm not the Batman." He responded sarcastically, placing the textbook on the table and making a small show of flipping through it to find the right chapter. All he wanted was one afternoon to read about linguistic morphology in peace. Dating a prophesized hero already got him into enough scrapes- he didn't need the university library to add more intrigue to his life. As the stranger moved into view, Baz recognized him from the front desk. The librarian half leaned, half sat on the table where Baz had intended to work, even scooting his book a little out of the way to accommodate him.

"Studying linguistics?" The librarian was clearly relishing the power he held in this moment. Baz's social etiquette dictated that he not tell this person to fuck off, raise his voice, or cause a scene. He hated being pinned down by someone like this. (Unless it was by Simon.) (And even then it had to be the right moment.)

"What do you want?" Baz gave in, meeting the stranger's gaze. The glint in his eye, his coy smile, everything about him said he wasn't just there to make small talk.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners?" The librarian offered a hand, "Eliot Waugh, child of Lamia." When Baz didn't take the offer, Eliot adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. "Lamia." Greek mythology. An early predecessor to modern vampires in literature. Baz felt a trickle of dread creep down his spine. He twisted his wrist, checking that his wand was still tucked in the holster on his forearm. If a vampire wanted to have a go at him it would be a nightmare to spell it out of all the Normal students' minds.

"Should that interest me?" He sat back and crossed his arms, still not sure if this person intended to be friend or foe.

"Drop the act, Pitch." He must've seen Baz's name when he scanned in.

* * *

Hurrying along in a torrential downpour, he replayed the scene in his mind. There was another vampire at school. And so far he didn't seem to be evil. (Then again, what villain reveals their true nature a few hours into meeting someone new?) Baz was running late getting home. He'd lost track of time in the library, having made a hasty exit as soon as he realized the hour.

Normally he'd love the rain. (Or at least he'd prefer it to sun.)The wind whipped rain and debris sideways, blinking in and out of pools of streetlamp light like a slow, wet strobe. A paper bag brushed defeatedly into him as he made his way through the city. He adjusted the strap to his bag- at least it was much lighter now that it was the summer term- and side stepped to avoid a puddle that was beginning to look more like a small pond had been dropped on the sidewalk. Rain hadn't been in the forecast- it was supposed to be perfectly clear the whole day. A perfectly clear, sunny day is what Basil had dressed for.

By the time he walked through the door to his boyfriend's apartment, he was soaked thoroughly through. His jade floral shirt clung to his skin, making him feel even colder every time he moved. "Snow, are you here?" He called out to the seemingly-empty flat, nudging the door shut behind him. Simon had to be around, it was his flat after all. A pair of trackies had been discarded by the floor mat, one laying on its side like it'd fallen asleep. He lined his loafers up next to each other, off to the side of the mat. "It's biblical out there." He called again. The thin little floor mat underneath him was already saturated almost beyond its capacity. His trousers were too wet to store anything. Everything was too wet. He gripped his keyring in his teeth for a moment and, modesty be damned, started to unbutton his soaked shirt.

((Seeking Simons but open to others!))