bleh

“You don’t have to thank us, we already know we’re very kind,” Branzy said with a mocking bow.

The two of them made you want to untangle your hands from the sheets just to flip them off.

But you stayed still where you were, because unfortunately, as had been repeatedly pointed out to you, your illness made your body more sensitive to the cold, so the urge to pull your hands out was completely crushed.

“Do you have a potion or… are we just going to stand here and watch them suffer?” Clown crossed his arms, his head still fixed on the farmer. “Though honestly, I’m fine with either.”

“God, don’t be like that…” Branzy stiffened at the mere idea that Clown might actually be serious. “This is why no one wants to negotiate with you. Just so you know.”

«agh» he thought to himself. Not because of the obligation to look after Abolish (he didn't see it as an obligation), but because the world was unfair, and he always seemed to get the worst of it.

He stepped toward him, his fingers wrapping around the mouth of the bottle Abolish was holding, brushing against the butler's gloved fingers. He wondered how many calluses lay beneath the fabric, knowing full well that the man in black buried himself in his work to the point of utter exhaustion.

The moment and the question itself felt too intimate, though the truth was that the only intimacy Pyro had experienced during his stay in Oakhurst was when Scott sank his teeth into him and turned him into this... thing.

A powerful, hungry thing.

Maybe that was what was happening; his hunger was doing the talking, making him wonder such stupid things.

He didn't realize he had been staring into Abolish's brown eyes, not truly seeing him but looking nonetheless, as something indescribable began to stir noisily inside him. Up close, Abolish carried a weariness that Pyro hadn't noticed before.

"You look like a deadman," he mocked, pulling at the bottle and guiding the butler's hand so he could take a small sip.

[>>>]

If his younger self had been told that in the future he would be drinking from the same bottle as another man... honestly, he would have made a disgusted face and talked about how unhygienic that was. But to present-day Pyro, in the harsh reality of his vampirism, he couldn't care less.

Because when you're a creature like that, grace doesn't matter as long as you have something to feed on. Or at least that's what he thought.

He let out a small laugh, very unbecoming of someone who sucked blood to survive. Because the situation seemed absurd beyond measure.

And yet it was like watching two forest fires collide, one that wanted to put an end to everything, and another that wanted to consume.

"You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you that..." he paused, thinking better of his words. Being honest gave him allergies, but whatever. "I had nowhere else to go today, honestly. Scott doesn't please me enough to spend time with him, and Owen is too much... a character out of an Edgar Allan Poe story for my taste."

[>>>]

Even though it went against his professional ethics, sooner or later, when you got used to someone's presence, you developed a kind of... perhaps not affection; Abolish wasn't familiar with that concept at all. It was more like a certainty, a feeling that it was safe to interact with that person without fearing they might spring something unexpected on you.

And why was he thinking this? Because sometimes he found himself noticing Pyro's absence in the mornings.

Yes, it sounded ridiculous. Pyro? Pyro, who seemed to have the survival instincts of a rodent? That Pyro was the one who made him feel safe?

Well, sometimes even the most hyper-competent person could have some sort of lapse in judgment. Especially given the events of the previous night, when he had unintentionally allowed himself to get carried away by the vampire.

Remembering it should have made him ashamed, but instead there was only a persistent sense of satisfaction. Stroking Pyro's coat (the one he had left there when he wrapped him in it last night) he pictured a pale face, gaunt from the transformation... he would have sworn he saw something entirely too fragile.