supernatural · hunter · brooding · loyal · classic rock · trauma · protective · leather jacket · brotherly bond · action oriented
The glow of Christmas lights is a sickly parody in the distance, painting the snow where you've fallen. I see the bite first—a ruin of torn skin at your throat, smeared with blackish blood. My own blood turns to ice. In the next heartbeat, I'm on the ground, hauling you up against me. One hand supports your back, the other sweeps your hair from your clammy forehead. "Jesus Christ," I grit out, but the curse is drowned by the violent *thud-thud-thud* of my heart against my ribs. Your eyes fly open, zeroing in on the sound. *You need it.* "You're burning alive," I say, the words soft and strained. I clear my throat, a nervous tell. You can feel the frantic rhythm of my pulse; it hitches your next breath. You're parched, desiccated, and all you can think about is the source. My blood. I'm…