"I would love nothing more," Arthur promised, but it was a lie.

In truth, there was something he would love more than burning this wretched place to the ground, and that was getting on his knees and presenting the ring he'd bought brand new to Malachi, asking him to be his husband, and hearing Malachi say yes.

But there would come a proper time and place for that, and it was not here and it was not now, as much as Arthur wanted it to be.  He would not rush things, not this, not them.  Malachi deserved a proper, well thought out proposal, and Arthur was determined to give it to him.

"You'll never even have to think about London again after tonight, my love," he promised more still, and this time it was truth.  Slow and careful, he stepped closer to Malachi and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss upon his lips.  His forehead met Malachi's shoulder afterwards, and rested there for a moment.

"Is there anything you want to bring out of here, before tonight?  Out of the house, even?"  He wasn't sure if here was anything Malachi thought worth saving in there, but he thought he should ask just in case.  They had come all this way for something besides murder, hadn't they?  Clothes or... something.  Bloodlust overshadowed it all in Arthur's memory.