I heard that right... right? He loves me?
Or at least, he thinks he does.
Fuck, why do I have to be so retarded when it comes to emotions? I remember as a kid I used to confuse the doctors, ‘cause I understand social rules, generally unlike people with autism, and I can be outgoing - god knows it's how I've survived the last decade - but I can be pretty reserved, and let's face it, emotions are hardly something I'm good at dealing with. Docs back then just labelled me a special case. You could've helped me to understand how to deal with emotional shit, you assholes.
I don't think he hears what I whisper as he falls asleep, and I guess that's probably not a bad thing, given I've still not processed what he said in the first place. While he sleeps, I try to figure out what it means and whether what he feels matches what I feel.
By the time he wakes up, I'm getting hungry again. Fuck you, Brendon, fuck you very much. He lets out a small yawn as I tangle my fingers in his hair, returning the smile he gives me.
"Hey," he says.
"Hi." He hums, planting a small kiss on my lips. He smiles again. "Good sleep?"
"Mhmm. How about you?"
"Good," I lie. No point worrying him by saying I didn't sleep, is there? He hums and I keep playing with his hair. He shuts his eyes, tilting his head a little and the though hunger jumps in my throat, urging me to take advantage of that, I force it back, keeping my gaze off his neck. He tilts his head a little more, apparently trying to get comfy.
I have to hold my breath.
"I need a shower," I mutter, getting up and pulling a pair of boxers on.
"Are you okay?" I nod. I can't say I've got the heart to tell him that I'm hungry again. I slip off to the shower without another word, but he follows me in. The heat from the shower only increases the scent of blood on him. So, needless to say, I'm not amazingly happy about him being in here with me while I could happily drain a person or two right now.
Unfortunately, he's being kinda clingy, and while I try not to let it show that it's making my hunger worse with him being here right now, I'm guessing that giving him less than the normal amount of kisses and cuddles is probably bothering him. I get out of the shower, drying myself off. I think that bothers him more, but I'm too busy getting dressed to really notice.
I notice the small frown on his face, though. I give him a questioning look as I do up my pants.
"Are things okay? With us, I mean. Well, not "us" but..." I nod. "Right," he says, still frowning a little.
"Just hungry," I mumble. He looks kinda relieved at that. What, did you think that I'm reacting badly to what you told me earlier or something? I peck him on the lips. "I'll be back in a bit."
"Okay," he says and I leave pretty swiftly, not even asking the pack if I can go out and feed.
Draining two people is scarily easy now, and though I'm full, I'm not happy about it. I mean, I wasn't before when Brendon was making me drain two or three a night, but now I'm doing it just to sate my hunger, not because I'm being made to. With a sigh, I dump the two bodies in a lake and hope they decompose enough before they're found.
When I get back, Fate frowns, smelling my kills on me. I don't do or say anything, not really knowing what there is that I could do or say about it.
"Where'd you go?" he asks, not letting up on the frown.
"To feed... why?"
"Because you stink."
"Just what a guy loves to hear when he gets back," I grumble. He keeps frowning and I don't know what to say to it.
"How many?" I don't say anything. "Brody, how many?"
"Two." There's a silence that even I know is awkward, and I wonder how to break it for a while, but Fate gets there first.
"Why?" he asks quietly. Why? What d'you mean ‘why'? I kinda shrug.
"I want to know why"
"That's just what it takes to fill me up now; that's all there is to it." He bites his lip. "S'why I didn't want to feed on you earlier, ‘cause a few pints doesn't cover it anymore."
"Oh," he says kinda sadly, and I sigh. I believe we have your dearest Brendon to thank for this, Fate.
"So, is that like forever?"
"I dunno. I guess not, I mean, I managed to control myself when I was a newborn, so I figure this can't be much worse. It'll just be... I dunno, like starving myself, I guess." Because that sounds like so much fun. Both of us fall into another awkward silence. Neither of us really know what to say.
"I'm... I'm just gonna go get something to eat," he says after a while. I nod and watch him go, before heading upstairs to wait for him, and wonder how the fuck I'm supposed to keep myself from going insane while I cut down how much blood I drink.