#lee bones

You didn’t know what he was. He drove you miles across the country, occasionally stopping for gas and picking up snacks from the gas station. Then, occasionally at night, he would pull over, tell you to stay in the car, irritable. He turns slowly, looking at you with a mix of annoyance and reluctant resignation, "Don't move. I'll be right back."

He doesn't wait for an answer, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car, slamming the door behind him and turning to walk into the treeline, just a few yards away from where he parked the truck. Your first thought was that he just needed to piss or something. That he’d come back. That he wouldn’t take long. However, as time passed, it wasn’t until a while later that he returned, the door opening, shaking you from your slumber as he slid back into the driver's seat.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine rumbled as he pulled off. He doesn’t look at you as he drives, his hand moving to turn the radio on, something quiet to listen to in the background. You noticed something brown-stained under his nails, dirt perhaps? No, it was too light to be dirt.

As your eyes drooped in the passenger seat, Lee glances over at you, noticing the slow, even rise and fall of your breathing. His grip on the steering wheel loosens slightly. For miles, he drives in silence, the only sound the hum of the engine and scattered rain on the windshield. Every now and then, he checks the mirror to make sure you're still there, still safe, still sleeping.

He knew you weren’t like him, and yet he took you with him anyway. He knew that taking you along was risky; you were innocent, unaware of what he was. Yet here you were, sleeping peacefully beside him in the car. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, a mix of guilt and protectiveness washing over him.

Lee caught himself glancing at you again; somehow, you had decided he was the safest option. He knew what was out there: the ones who didn't feel guilt, the ones who hunted for sport. Compared to them, he probably was safe.

“Where are we going?” You muttered softly, being jolted from your sleep as we went over a bump. He keeps his eyes on the dark stretch of highway ahead, his voice low to disturb your sleep-ridden state.

"Just driving," he murmurs. "West. Maybe Kentucky. Just somewhere away from here."

He glances over at you, seeing your eyes half-closed. "Go back to sleep. I've got you."

He drives with one hand resting casually on the steering wheel, his eyes darting between the road and your reflection in the glass. You look so peaceful, so normal. He keeps his speed steady, wanting you to sleep without getting jostled. The landscape outside is dark and endless, but inside the car, it feels quiet and safe.

He sighed, glancing at the road ahead, finding somewhere to pull over again, groaning internally. He turned the engine off, leaning his head against the wheel. What had he done? He chose to travel with you; he couldn’t just kick you out, especially not now he’s grown so attached to you, but every journey was like torture. He gripped the wheel, jaw clenched as he leaned across the console, breathing in the air around you.

No matter how the hunger gnaws at him, no matter how his body screams for sustenance, he knows he could never, would never, feed on you. You're the one person he's sworn to protect, the one life he refuses to take. He's trying to hold off as long as possible, pushing back the feeling inside him. He knows he can't starve himself forever; his body will eventually demand to feed, whether he wants to give in or not. But for now, he's determined to resist, to keep you safe from him. Even if it means suffering himself.

He couldn’t do it when you were there, he had to be careful, make sure there was no evidence, but between driving between state to state he rarely got the opportunity.

When the sun rose you woke up, grabbing a sandwich from your bag, glancing at him. His head spun. He knew you noticed his unsteadiness but thankfully you didn't say anything. God, he was hungry. Starving.

“You can have the other half of my sandwich” You offered.

His hand gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. The hunger gnawed at him, making his vision blur at the edges. But he couldn't tell you the truth, “I'm fine. I’m not hungry”

A clear lie but you never said anything. The car engine rumbled a welcome distraction. The hunger was becoming unbearable, a physical ache within him. He needed to feed, but he wouldn't do it near you. He couldn't risk you seeing, couldn't risk you knowing what he was. His hands trembled as moved to mess with the controls, fan on, heat off.

“You don’t look fine” you said, glancing at him again.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened even more, his knuckles turning white. He could feel his control slipping further with each passing second. The scent of you in the enclosed space of the car was driving him mad, "Would you stop fucking saying that?"

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. He knew he had snapped at you, but he couldn't help it. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, and the hunger was becoming unbearable. He needed to stop the car, needed to get out, needed to feed.

“Can I put the radio on?” You asked hesitantly, wanting some noise to break the silence.

He tensed. He just wanted silence, needed silence to focus on keeping himself in check, but he knew refusing your small request would make things worse. He gave a sharp, jerky nod, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, "Do whatever you want."

The low hum of music filled the heavy silence between you. It was better than talking, better than you asking him if he was okay. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, his eyes scanning the road frantically for a place to pull over. The hunger was a roar in his ears now, drowning out the quiet radio.

“It’s lick it up” he commented, glancing towards the console.

“What?” You asked. He scoffed slightly.

“Lick it up. You don’t know ‘lick it up’?” Lee sighed, shaking his head, “you live under a rock or something?”

He rested his elbow against the open window of the car, muttering softly, “I guess you’re like a good girl or something…”

After the silence settled over you again, he glances over, seeing that you had dropped back to sleep again. He reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face before stopping himself. He was exactly what he'd promised you he'd keep you safe from. He kept driving through the night, his eyes glued to the road ahead. He didn't plan on telling you what he was. You were innocent, if you knew the truth, you'd run. You'd leave him behind without a second thought. And he didn’t know what he’d do then.

He drove for a few more hours, the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. He was exhausted. It reminded him of how he met you, the conversation you shared after when he treated you to something cheap st a restaurant.

“Lee… can I stay with you?” You asked softly. The question hit him like a punch to the gut. He froze mid-chew, his jaw clenching. His eyes darted to you, small, earnest, looking at him like he was something worth holding onto.

"No." His voice was rough, flat.

“Why not?” You asked, brows tugging together in confusion. He set his fork down, his appetite suddenly gone.

"Because..." He muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. He couldn't tell you the truth, that he was dangerous, that he was an eater.

“I don’t really have anywhere else to go” You expressed softly. He sighed, leaning back in his seat.

"Listen to me, okay?" His eyes were intense, almost scary. He saw you shrink back slightly and immediately softened his tone, "I'm not being mean on purpose. I'm trying to protect you. I'm not..."

Your stubbornness was both adorable and infuriating, like his little sister. He couldn't remember the last time someone wanted to be around him and if he was being honest, driving around on his own was lonely.

So he agreed to take you with him, out of some misguided hope that he would in a way get his sister back. With a sigh he pulled over, gently shaking your shoulder.

“Come on, get in the back, you’ll be more comfortable” He muttered, moving to drop down the seats. He helped you crawl into the back, grabbing a few stray blankets and pillows. He slid in beside you, pulling you against his chest, one arm wrapped around your waist. You sighed softly, shifting slightly to get comfortable. The hunger was a dull ache but he knew he’d be fine.

He pressed his face deeper into your neck, lips brushing the skin there unconsciously. His nose brushing against your skin and he inhales deeply. The scent of you fills his lungs, the restraint in his eyes. He's torn between his attachment to you and his insatiable hunger.

His hand tightened against your waist, his fingers digging into your shirt. He dragged his nose up the column of your throat, inhaling your scent like a drug, fighting the urge to open his mouth. He grew more and more hungry every day and he realised his hungry would never be fulfilled until he had you. It was you he hungered for.

He wanted to consume every part of you until there was nothing left, until you were woven into his very DNA. He pressed his open mouth against your pulse point, his breath shuddering out. His teeth grazing your skin as he fought for control. His hands shook slightly where they held you.

“Lee…” You muttered softly, shrugging him off slightly.

The movement made him freeze. Had he been too rough? Was he hurting you? But no, your voice was soft, sleepy, not afraid. If only you knew. If only you could see the way his eyes had gone dark, the way his jaw clenched with the effort of not tasting you. He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your shoulder, "Go back to sleep."

His arms automatically tightened around you as you shifted, his body molding to yours instinctively. He buried his face deeper into your neck, inhaling your scent like oxygen.

“You cold…?” You muttered, trying to figure out why he was being so clingy. He usually kept his distance.

He swallowed hard, his voice rough with unsaid feelings, "Just... sleep. Please."

He listened to your breathing deepen, feeling your body go completely slack against his. The iron-will control he'd been exercising finally gave way, just slightly. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. One last, deep drag of your scent. He accepted the terrifying truth: he was starving, and he was never going to be full. You trusted him completely. He couldn't betray that. Couldn't. Wouldn't.

But there was an underlying guilt that you didn’t know what kind of person he was. He had protected you from other cannibals but at what cost? Every day he woke up starving for you. Every day he looked at your trusting face and felt like the biggest monster in the world. He protected you from others like him, but what about protecting you from him?

Your scent was stronger. Metallic, stronger than usual. How long had you two been traveling together? He felt you relax against him, your body warm and soft. His chin rested on top of your head, eyes closed tight. The hunger grew insistent but he held you tighter, focused on the way your breathing steadied. His heartbeat thumped against your back, a steady rhythm that seemed to soothe you further. He could feel every inch of your warmth, your scent filling his nostrils. It was torture; sweet, agonizing torture. His arms tightened possessively, pulling you closer.

You couldn't know how hard this was for him. How much control he was using to keep his hunger at bay. If anything, it was getting harder by the second.

You shifted, turning, your face inches from his, he could see every detail. His eyes dropped to your neck, how much he wanted to sink his teeth into your neck, how much he wanted to taste you. His breathing grew heavy, your eyes fluttering open to meet his.

His expression was tortured, eyes dark with hunger, jaw clenched, breath coming in shallow pants. He looked like he was holding onto his control by a thread. One wrong move and he might lose it completely. His hands on your waist tightened almost imperceptibly, "Don't, just… go back to sleep"

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to block out your scent, your warmth. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Watching you through slitted eyes as you looked him over, taking in his strained expression, his tense body. He could see the concern in your gaze, the softness of your features. It was like offering a lamb to a wolf, so innocent and trusting. He reached up slowly.

He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing against your ear. He heard your breath hitch softly. His warm lips pressed against your neck now, just below your ear, the scent of your blood driving him wild.

“Let me," he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered softly, whether it was from fear or something else he couldn’t tell. He knew he should stop. He knew that whimper could be fear, but he was too far gone. His lips parted against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His grip in your hair tightened, holding you in place, whispering, "It'll only hurt for a second,"

“Lee… Lee stop…” You mutttered softly “please…”

His heart shattered at the sound of your soft pleading. He froze, his teeth still touching your neck but not biting. He breathed heavily against your skin, his heart racing. He pulled back sharply, his hands releasing your hair and waist as if it burned him. He scrambled backward to the edge of the bed, putting as much distance between you as possible.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out, horrified with what he nearly just did, “Shit… I’m sorry”

He couldn’t apologise enough, no amount of apologies would help or erase what nearly happened. He breaths heavily, shifting away, putting space between himself and you. He couldn’t even look at you.

“You…” you gasped out, starting to put pieces together, the stains under his nails, how he disappeared sometimes, “You’re…”

He heard you scramble for the door, moving as quickly as possible he grabbed your arm, “No wait, please…”

You screamed, trying to push him away. You looked at him like he was a monster, everything he tried to avoid was happening.

“Don’t scream, please don’t…” he tried to pull you back but it just seemed to scare you more. How could he talk to you, how could he explain that he wasn’t going to hurt you when in that moment he nearly did.

“Get away!” You yelled, pushing him away.

“Listen… listen to me” he tried to say, placing his hand over your mouth, breathing deeply as you struggled, you screams muffled, “Please just… I never wanted to hurt you… I don’t… I won’t hurt you…”

“Just please don’t leave” Lee begged softly, his hand falling from your mouth, sighing deeply, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly against him, “Don’t leave…”

Your heart raced, trembling in his arms as you tried to calm down, wanting to believe him. Wanting to believe that he would never hurt you, that he cared. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“God… I’m so sorry…” he muttered softly. He knew it was doomed from the beginning. That this was always going to happen. He cared too deeply for you, so much so he doesn’t ever want to loose you, and if eating tou was the only way to achieve that, then he would. It was a compulsion. A feeling he couldn’t control.

Your arms finally wrapped around him, accepting him for who he was, despite knowing he was a threat to you. He breathed you in, his head dropping to rest against your forehead. Gently, he tilted your chin up, ghosting his lips over yours, pulling you closer. His lips connected with yours, moving slowly.

When you returned the kiss, he pulled you closer, tongue tracing against yours slowly, hands sliding down to gently grip your waist. Deepening the kiss, he let his tongue brush against yours, sighing deeply, as if it was what he needed all along to feed his hunger. At least for now. His hands moved to hold your face, breaking the kiss to press kisses along your neck.

“Don’t worry… I’m not gonna eat you…” he muttered softly, trailing off as he licked a stripe up your neck. His hands moved to trail down your waist, gripping your hips and tugging you closer to him. He moved you to lay you down against the seats, licking and sucking at your skin, hands gripping your hips, pushing your clothes up to expose your stomach which he peppered in kisses, fingers pushing your skirt up, licking and sucking marks into the flesh of your thighs.

He pressed his nose against the thin cotton of your panties, breathing you in, nuzzling against them as he slowly peeled them again. You seemed to have forgotten about what he did, relaxing against him, warm and soaked in slick as he parted your thighs. He licked a soft stripe against your entrance, lapping up the slick there, his nose brushing against your clit.

He ate you out as if he was starving for you, tongue dipping inside your entrance, shifting to gently suck and lap at your clit, thumb moving to stimulate your clit as he moved back down to lap at your entrance. He felt your thighs tense, soft whimpers of pleasure escaping you, gently tugging at his dyed red curls.