#blessmylight

Oliver Stone was the only person on the planet who would cut their hand on a jar of pickles. He had dropped the damn thing, earning a shard of glass to come flying back at his hand. He yelped so loud you could hear it from a couple aisles away.Thankfully, someone’s come to his rescue. “Jesus, fuck, ow!” He spews out again, eyes narrowing. “Are you really a paramedic or are you lying? ‘Cause that’d be messed up and I’m married.” A part of him is joking, of course, which is something he did when he was in a state of panic. He hisses again, face scrunching from the pain. “Oh, God, it smells like pickles and blood. Gross. This is the worst, this is the worst.” Rough laughter escapes him, “Do you think a vampire would enjoy this? I think so.”