9. Bertrand V (1/1)

self are you drunk no it's just 4am and you've spent all night writing smits, and deciding to call them smits. probably you should not post this until tomorrow. not that it'll make much difference 'cos you're totally gonna forget this is on here and post it like this at normal o'clock and people will think you're even weirder.

disclaimer: not mine.

bertrand couldn't read vlad like he could read other people.

perhaps it was because he was too emotionally invested in the boy; more likely it was because the boy had had the best possible teachers in lying, manipulation, and presenting the face he needed people to see. at any rate, he never knew what vlad was thinking, what was real and what was just an elaborate faade.

when vlad forgot to be distant, when he became animated and charming and warm again, was that real? was it the real vlad peeking through, or was it just the vlad he thought would get the best response from his tutor? when he seemed flattered that bertrand had understood something the rest of the world hadn't yet grasped about him, when he nodded and laughed at an inconsequential comment bertrand had thrown out there, when he was just so perfect and open and honest that it almost hurt bertrand to look at him… how could he be sure that wasn't an act?

because really, when it came down to it, vlad's entire position as chosen one, as future grand high vampire, was all about pretending. pretending to be what each and every vampire wanted from a ruler, even though there was no possible way anyone could be all of those things at once. pretending to be someone completely different, when the occasion called for it. bertrand had to admit that there was a good chance everything he'd thought was a sign of friendship from the younger vampire was a lie.

no matter how much it hurt.