#bare?

little guy.. big coat.....

Jonah Magnus/Avatar of the Hunt Slow Burn

Slowburn? What else could it be? The chase makes it worth it, that’s your whole being, isn’t it?

It started with you following him after some fancy party he held. After half an hour of following him through busy streets when there was a chance to attack, a fucking vampire had to walk by with its nightly victim and struck at you first. After you took care of the damn thing, you couldn’t even sense Jonah. It happens every other month or so, you find your man, follow him until its a good place to hunt, and then something else always gets in your way and he’s gone. It takes about five rounds of this song and dance before you get the hint and realize that before he walked down the alley with Whatever That Was, he looked back at you and smiled. 

The next time you saw him was at some shitty high-end bar you were at for a party of some friend of a friend. You managed to ignore him for the most part, that is until he stopped you when you went outside for a breather. “Following me in the streets wasn’t enough for you?” He mocked. You roll your eyes and tell him you have a life, in fact, gesturing to the party. You aren’t sure if he believes you, but he’s laughing.

It continues like that for a while. Another year, in fact. You follow him through the streets, each time getting closer until you basically walk by his side making small talk. Slowing down, Jonah? He refuses to answer that question, and you refuse to answer why you’re still hunting someone who doesn’t fear you at all. You only learned his name a week ago. In a Starbucks of all places. He talks to you as if you’d been work buddies for years and it… feels nice. You can strangely picture very well knowing this man for years. Being… friends with him for years. Your vague daydreams this time are cut short by him saying how he Hates to leave like this, but he really Must get going. Something about the dry cleaners, something about a party in a few days. 

It takes until he loses you and you get back home to realize he gave you too many details about that party to just be bragging.

You rent a fancy outfit, steal a couple of accessories, and you can pass as some rich asshole’s bored kid. A Fairchild’s bored kid, to be specific. None of the bouncers would ever refuse someone with that name, and its too hard to remember what they all look like. It was lucky you managed to fake your way through conversations for an hour and a half before he showed up, stealing you away from the small group interrogating you about the Fairchild’s business ordeals. 

“Oh, thank god a familiar face. My usual isn’t here, and I need someone by me to keep away all the damned propositions,” Jonah groans to you as he has you in the strongest arm lock you’ve ever been in in your life. The two of you keep making small talk with other guests for an hour before he asks you if you’d care to dance. He’s awfully bored. He doesn’t wait for an answer. 

The two of you must have danced at least a dozen songs together, each one pulling you closer and closer. The first few songs had talking and joking about other people there, but it turned into silence as the lights seemed to dim. It wasn’t until a large man who smelled of sea salt interrupted and said he needed your dance partner for something important. You were alone, and you swear the big man smiled when he took Jonah aside. Asshole.