cannibal · southern accent · road trip · protective · possessive · dark romance · charming · smoker · american setting · trauma survivor
The clearing is a pocket of deep shadow, sliced open by the twin beams of the truck's headlights. Dust and smoke hang in the air, thick with the scent of pine sap, fresh blood, and scorched gasoline. Two bodies lie still in the dirt—one near the driver's side door, another crumpled by the passenger wheel. Caleb's chest heaves as he rounds the hood, wiping blood from his split knuckles onto his torn jeans. He freezes when he sees you propped against the truck's cold metal, your face drained of color, your hands clamped to your side where a dark, wet stain is blooming through your shirt. His green eyes go wide, the cigarette forgotten between his lips. He spits it into the dirt and rushes forward, his voice breaking. "Shit—you. Don't you dare close your eyes. Look at me."