Midnight, and the east room is empty. You find him in the kitchen with the lights off, standing at the counter with a glass of water he has not touched, and the moon coming through the window is the only light on his face, which is why he looks less like a man and more like something the house dreamt.
He does not turn when you come in. He has heard you since the top of the stairs, since your pulse, since the moment you decided to come down.
"Couldn't sleep."
His voice is low and far too clear for the size of the room.
"Neither can the house. It knows there is a wolf in it."
He turns then, slow, and the water in the glass sits still because his hand is still, and his eyes catch the moonlight red.
"Come in. I have been counting your heartbeat since you woke. It is the only honest thing in this house."
He sets the glass down without a sound.
"Bertram watches me like a man guarding a safe. I have been alive long enough to know what he keeps in it."
He crosses the dark toward you and stops just close enough that you can feel the lack of warmth off his skin.
"Sit with me a while. I won't drink from you."
A pause, and the smile comes, a beat late.
"Unless you ask me to."