#post-event 5

Luke: The storage is dead silent, dimly lit only with a small lightbulb. It is rather spacious, probably because it used to be a garage. Now one half of it houses crates of all sizes, mostly weapons and surveillance gears. Toward the backwall sits a workbench and what could be described as the google search term: ‘detective crazy wall’. The backroom that used to be an office has been converted into a ‘living area’, it would seem, with an old leather couch and some blankets, a desk littered with old takeout boxes and some clothes hanging on the office chair. The other half of the storage, separated by the rest with a shower curtain, is a lot more ominous if that was even possible. With the walls and floors sealed with plastic, it has the same thick, blood-coated air of a slaughterhouse. 

Luke sits backward on a plastic chair, his arms resting on its back, examining his latest captive in the middle of the plastic-walled section. After last night, he transported Byrne to his den, and chained them to the chair for good measure. Sure, he could have just killed them in the horror house, but... they were acting odd, in a way that wasn’t familiar to him. And as much as he hates to admit it, he knows Cole Byrne. They insisted that they were trying to change. If something has influenced them to act contrary to their previous behaviors, that warrants an investigation, right? Plus, he still owes Byrne for what happened during the blackout... At least that is what he tells himself to justify his choice. Sighing, he gets up from the chair and grabs the bucket on the floor-- dunks the cold water on the unconscious vampire. “Oh, good. You’re up.” He says dryly, tossing away the bucket. There is a cold bite in his words, almost bitter, disappointed-- betrayed. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now.”

Cole: Gray hadn’t needed to sleep for over a year now. They hadn’t legitimately slept for almost as long. But, when they’re shocked awake by a cascade of cold water, they could swear they’ve woken from a dream. The past 24 hours had been a haze. All that remains from that time is how full they feel and the realization that, whatever happened yesterday, they may have gone too far. And now their head is killing them. Blinking water out of their eyes they look up to find themself in a strange place. Alone. With Lucas Lowell in his most volatile form — very angry. “Wha— Lowell? Where am I? What are you talking about?”

Luke: He stares down at Byrne, his cold expression unchanging save for the raised brow at the supposed oblivious act. "Seriously. Are you se-riously pulling 'I don't remember' card." The elongated syllable is a telltale sign that his anger level is dangerously close to the critical point. "Fine, have it your way-- last night, in some fun Halloween spirit, you drank several people and tried to kill me and your sister." He explains with a fake smile, the kind where only his lips are smiling. "Doesn't ring a bell? I've actually heard that blunt force trauma is good for jogging memories."

Cole: They hang their head, straining to remember, but all they can manage to pull are flashes of blood and tears. Still they refuse to let the surprise show on their face or say that Luke and Clover are probably the last people they would ever try to kill. So instead they put on their charming smirk and look up at Luke through their eyebrows. “Hmmm doesn’t sound like me… but okay, I’ll bite,” they reply, flashing their teeth with the pun. “So you brought me here…wherever ‘here’ is, for what exactly? An explanation? An apology? Or did me almost killing you just get you going enough that you decided to take me back to your place? Really Lucas, at least take me out to dinner first.” It’s a dangerous game they’re playing, but they can never resist toying with the seraph, so they toss him a cheeky wink for good measure.

Luke: Luke is clearly unamused by the pun. "Right, 'cause you are such a paragon of values," he says flatly, his glare intensifying as they keep on joking around. See, this is more like the Cole Byrne he knows. And although he agrees that the way the vampire acted last night was uncharacteristic, it is clear that whatever preconception he had on Byrne was wrong. His jaw clenches at that point, and with no warning, Luke finds himself punching them across the face. He grabs them by the throat before the chair gets knocked over. It angers him so that even now, Byrne is trying to fool him with this 'I don't remember anything, I'm just a funny vampire' bit. "You think this is funny?" His free hand pulls out a wooden stake from the holster. "The only reason why you can still run your mouth is 'cause I still owe you a debt, and I thought I'd at least investigate why you'd go after your sister. But obviously, nothing is too low for you, huh? I should have just killed you back there." Even now, a voice in the back of his head, the one that commands him to hunt, is screaming at him just for giving Byrne a chance to explain himself. People died, and it is partially his fault letting this vampire just roam freely. He should have finished the job the first time, or when they returned. He had so many chances, and yet-- "so cut the bullshit. I'm gonna ask you one last time. Was this your plan all along?" this is the last time, he tells himself.

Cole: When the sharp blow meets their face they think for a moment that this is just classic Luke behavior and their joking façade doesn’t break. They’re laughing when Luke grabs their throat, to which they raise an eyebrow, “Ooh jumping right to the fun part Lowe--” Then Luke interrupts him and all the anger suddenly feels more real. He drops his smile and stares piercing blue eyes into Luke’s soul. Then their own strange sort of anger shows in a scowl. Gray wouldn’t be so foolish, not under all the watchful scrutiny coming at them from all angles. Luke should know that. Hell, he should even understand in his way. “No,” the word is firm, without a trace of pretense. “Whatever happened yesterday was never my plan.” With one swift motion they break the chains around their wrists to immediately clasp one hand around the back of Luke’s neck, and the other around the wrist holding the stake. Pulling Luke’s face closer so that their foreheads are nearly touching, they redirect the stake to aim directly at their heart, “But you’re going to believe what you will, so go ahead…” an invitation, so close he can feel Luke’s warm breath on his lips, “Kill me if it’ll help you sleep at night. Because I don’t have another answer for you.” They release their hold on Luke, to lock their hands behind their head.

Luke: Even their laughter gets on his nerve. If it wasn't for the fact that they don't breathe, Luke would have enjoyed choking the life out of them. "Everything is just a game to you, isn't it? You're fuckin' incorrigible." He snarls through the gritted teeth. Because, fuck, do they really have to turn everything into some kind of a joke or innuendo? It pisses him off how Byrne acts as though this was some kind of flirting like they were dancing. A part of him he doesn't quite recognize is relieved to hear that it wasn't Byrne's plan, and wants to believe those words even if they were nothing but lies. "Then why did you--" his interrogation is cut short by the sound of chains snapping, and he is suddenly pulled closer. The cold hand on the back of his neck sends a chill down his spine, and his instinct is to defend himself. But to his surprise, his hand with the one thing that could kill a vampire is guided to their heart. Confused, and almost panicking, he suddenly realizes how fast his own heart is beating. It feels as though Byrne is embracing him. He can't look away, his head locked by those cold hands, and for the first time, he finds some semblance of truth in their icy blue eyes. Entranced by that moment which feels like hours, it takes Luke a while to shake it off. "I--" he stammers, before realizing the position he is in. He jumps back, putting a safe few feet away from them. "The fuck is wrong wi-- y'know what, I don't fucking care." He runs a hand through his tangled mess of hair. With a disgruntled growl, he starts pacing back and forth. "So what, are you sayin' you actually don't remember last night?"

Cole: For the moments Luke is in their grasp they can feel the fast rush of blood beneath their fingers. Even after they’ve let go they can hear the pounding heartbeat, like a jackhammer banging against Luke’s ribcage. It’s intimate. As much as something like this can be. And they can see it in the faltering fire behind Luke’s dark eyes. He senses it too, even if he can’t acknowledge it. When Luke stumbles back, Gray’s smarmy attitude returns. They lean back in the chair their ankles are still chained to, swinging an arm over the backrest. “That is what I’ve been trying to tell you, Lowell,” the sentence escapes their lips as an exasperated sigh. “There are flashes, glimpses, but it’s mostly just… gray.” It’s a self-referential play on words they can’t help but make. A reflection of a truth that should serve as a warning — sometimes Gray is something beyond themself. The idea of them losing control like that is more unsettling than they’d care to admit. “I can’t say for sure that the person you saw last night wasn’t me. I just flat out don’t know.”

Luke: Luke takes a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck where it still feels chilled. He just rolls his eyes at yet another stupid pun, although he gets what they are trying to say. If he were to believe the vampire-- which he doesn't, for the record-- it sounds like something drove them to, well, a frenzy. "Great. That's awfully convenient for you." He mutters, the stake still in his hand. But he wouldn't dare get closer to Byrne again, now that their hands are free at least. He should have gotten stronger chains... "Let's say I believe you. What do you remember from last night? Before... whatever the fuck drove you to go all," he gestures vaguely as in 'a bloodthirsty rampage', unable to look directly at Byrne "...y'know." He doesn't think for a second that the vampire is innocent. But if something caused them to act that way, he should probably look into it.

Cole: They take note of Luke rubbing the back of his neck where their hand was and wonder just how much they’re in the seraph’s head. Vampire compulsion doesn’t work on Luke’s kind, so any effect they may have on him that’s making him so hesitant to just kill them already is between them alone. Gray thinks on his question a moment, still struggling to remember. Finally, with a shrug, they say, “I don’t know. Last thing I can remember is getting a drink from one of the stands. Everything else feels like a hazy dream after that.”

Luke: The plastic brushes against his soles as he paces back and forth, something he does when he is buried deep in his thoughts. He is oh-so-desperately trying to reconcile with the fact that he is still talking to Byrne instead of killing them off. That begs the question, why am I acting so weird? Every time he is around Byrne, he behaves in a way he cannot foresee, like a malfunction or an error in his codes. Even just now, his murderous rage has subsided the moment they said it wasn't their intent, as if he was relieved. It is incredibly annoying, and it's becoming a real fucking problem for him... Luke stops walking aimlessly and glowers at Byrne, although he averts his gaze when the other looks back at him. "...some kind of a drug? Potion? You remember which stand it was?" See, this is an interrogation. I'm interrogating, he tells himself. He can decide what to do with Byrne after figuring out what happened. "...not that I believe you," he starts, "but it's probably worth an investigation. If someone or something made you kill those people... maybe I can just hand you over to the Agency." That is as far as Luke can compromise. "And then we'll call it even. For... y'know," he murmurs something under the breath, something along the line of ‘not letting me bleed out’.

Cole: They shift in their seat, elbows resting on their knees as Luke paces. There’s a brief moment of eye contact that Luke breaks almost immediately as if just looking at them is dangerous. And maybe it is. “Maybe?” They reply, “It was one of the slushy stands, I can’t remember which one.” When Luke mentions turning them into the agency Cole sits up, stiff, “The Agency?” They scoff, “Please, if the agency knew what they were doing, you’d be a superior agent. I’d rather you kill me than put my fate in their hands.” Rising to their feet, they approach Luke until the chain stops them. “Maybe before deciding what to do with me you should try looking at me first. You know, baby steps. And then we can talk about getting even.”

Luke: "Better than nothing. It's a place to start." Luke crosses his arms, considering a course of action from here. The KP Event Planning should have some kind of a registry for booths... He gets distracted, flinching subtly as he hears the chain rattling. His eyes trail downward, remembering that Byrne's ankles are still chained to the chair. "Right, because I'm the employee of the month," says Luke, waving his arm at their surroundings. "Look, I can't just let you walk around freely after last night. You're a menace, and it's not like I can watch you 24/7. This may come as a surprise, but I've got other shits to do. The Agency is better equipped to deal with you in this case." Luke flinches again, this time a little more obvious when Byrne mentions looking at them. "What? I'm... looking." He protests, looking back at them for exactly 3 seconds before awkwardly looking away. But not without an attempt at a dignified scoff. "Anyway, got a better idea than the Agency? if you really just wanna die by my hands, that can be arranged."

Cole: “You’re better at getting shit done than most of them, but I guess you’re fine with them treating you like you aren’t… so that’s none of my business. All I know is you’re the only one that really knows how to handle me, not the Agency.” Their brow quirks and they let out a low laugh at Luke’s attempt to prove them wrong, “It doesn’t count if you’re not looking long enough to see me.” Another challenge. There’s something Luke can’t take about looking at them and Gray is dying to know what it is. Is it that he sees what he hates about himself in them? Is it some sort of attraction? Something in between? Rolling their eyes, they offer, “You could pull my fangs… but that would be at your own risk, I don’t think the clan or the agency would be too happy about that. You could always just get stronger chains and keep me here until you figure out what to do with me.” Giving it a bit more thought they added, “Maybe we could… strike some kind of deal?”

Luke: Luke just rolls his eyes, half-turned away with his arms crossed tightly over the chest. He is not sure if that is supposed to be a compliment. "I'm not your designated babysitter, Byrne," he grumbles. "And it's not-- ugh, just leave me alone." It's just... awkward right now because every time he looks at Byrne, his mind replays the way they looked truthful for the first time, and that image is... disturbing. It fucks with how he usually perceives Cole Byrne. And with that comes back the memory he has tried so hard to repress... Or maybe he just needs some shuteye. Thanks to someone, he hasn't slept in, well, almost 36 hours now. "What do you care if it's a risk for me or not? Worry about your own fuckin' problem," he scoffs, shaking away the irrelevant noises in his head and trying to focus on the conversation. And it's much easier to achieve when he is not looking at that smug face. "Oh, so you're just gonna sit pretty and do nothing? You think this is some kind of a rehab? I can't keep you here." He can't believe he is having this conversation with none other than Byrne. Sighing, he pinches the bridge of his nose "...fine, how about a truce. Till I figure out what the fuck happened, I can put off decidin' what to do with you-- as long as you don't hurt or kill people, or fuck with their lives."

Cole: “You’d be the hottest babysitter I ever had if you were…” Gray teases, mostly curious about what kind of reaction that will get from Luke in his flustered state. “And it’s not… what, Lowell?” Suddenly a realization dawns on them and a wide, stunned smile spreads across their face, “Oh my god… this— this doesn’t have anything to do with the blackout, does it? This whole ‘can’t make eye contact with me’ thing?” For everything they can’t remember of Halloween, they remember the night of the blackout vividly well. Particularly one impulsively charged kiss. They think about that night often, and about Luke in general — fascinated by what it is that makes the seraph tick. Gray wonders how similar their effect on him is. It might explain why he seems so distracted now… so conflicted. “Worry about myself? Okay, so you wanna pull my fangs out? Be my guest. That’s right. I didn’t think so.” This isn’t a battle exactly, but, whatever it is, it feels like Luke’s losing. And then, like clockwork, a call for a truce. “I could work with a truce. I can definitely promise not to kill, easy, but uh… not sure I can avoid hurting people entirely… I still need to feed.”

Luke: "That's not my-- point," Luke just looks away, his jaw clenched uncomfortably as he suddenly grows incredibly self-conscious. His shoulder tightens when Byrne mentions the blackout, "What? No. What? That's not-- I don't even know what you're talkin' about." That came out a little too fast, and he said 'what' twice. "I-- don't need to look at you, to talk to you, so just... shut up." He huffs as he starts to pace around the room again. His head is feverish, like that time he drank one too many Red Bull and got all jittery and wired up. Frustration and anger, mostly at Byrne but also at himself, build up in the pit of his stomach. "You keep talkin' and I'm getting the pliers." He warns, practically stomping around the room now. At least walking blows off steam from him and Luke feels more like himself. Now standing on the other side of the room away from Byrne, he just glares at the vampire in chains (though he looks away again when they look his way). He is somewhat surprised that the other would even consider accepting his terms. "They've li-te-rally got the bags packed and ready." He points out, emphasizing each syllable of the word 'literally'. "Or are you one of those picky vampires who have to drink from people?"

Cole: Gray just cocks an eyebrow, chuckling at the way Luke becomes visibly more flustered with their question. Only confirming their suspicions. “Mhmm… judging by your eloquence I can clearly tell you’ve got no idea what I’m talking about. Here’s a thought, how bout you come a little closer and I can jog your memory if you want.” They lean back into the chair and attempt to cross their legs, the chain stopping them so they can only cross their ankles. “Go on, I dare you.” Luke looks surprised. Good. Surprising him is so much fun, they’ve nearly forgotten what this whole debacle is about. Luke settles into a corner of the room as they’re busy taking in the dreary surroundings. When they finally look back at Luke, they catch him staring, only to quickly look away when their eyes meet. The corner of Gray’s lips pinch upward and they shake their head ever so slightly. Luke brings up blood bags and they gag to themself, “If you think I’m going to drink out of a juice pack, like a child… yeah, no thanks, I’d rather starve. I only drink my blood directly from the source. And I don’t think that’s picky. It’s… natural.”

Luke: Luke seals his lips begrudgingly, learning a newfound sensation of 'too much blood rushing to the head it's difficult to formulate words'. This must be what potatoes in boiling water feel like. He wants to punch Byrne in the throat and escape from this room at the same time. How did it get so out of control like this? He clearly had the upper hand, was this close to staking the vampire in the heart and call it a night. A tiny "...fuck off," packed with ineffable grievance and resentment, is all he could muster up. And of course, Luke is easy prey when it comes to dares. He goes over to the nearby metal table, housing all sorts of tools. Grabbing a pair of pliers, he marches up to the vampire in chains, just outside their reach. He isn't actually going to pull the fangs out of them-- that would complicate the matter. But he is tempted to just whack them over the head with it. 

"Right, 'cause you're an apex predator." He drawls, dripping with sarcasm. "Natural isn't always a good thing, y'know." Luke then sighs, "and since you claim that you don't remember, let me remind you-- you drank people last night, which is why you're here to begin with. So unless you can drink out of a pack like a child... we have no deal." For that moment, his glare freezes over, detaching itself from his more... humane side. But it doesn't last too long. As ironic as it may be, it seems Luke acts more like a human being around Byrne. Relenting, he sighs again. He can't believe he is about to say this. "Or... if you're that picky about how you get your blood, you can drink mine. Can't say this is not... my fault, in a way. And to make things worse, I'm... giving you a benefit of the doubt, so."

Cole: Luke’s heart is pounding in their ears like a bass drum played with a double kick. His rapid pulse fills the room and when Gray looks at him they can see the blood pooling in his cheeks. The sweet smell, that they’re sure is part of what always draws them to Luke like a magnet, fills their nose. If they weren’t still sated from the day before, this would be driving them insane. The chains at their ankles would be broken and Luke would be in their grasp in the blink of an eye. But, thanks to the feeding frenzy they can’t fully remember, they’re able to keep their composure — pretend that the state Luke’s in isn’t filling them with a desperate hunger. So instead they smirk at the small “fuck off” Luke throws their way. “Make me,” they tempt effortlessly in response.

“Nature is brutal,” they spit, “but there’s an order to it, you don’t judge a lion for hunting a gazelle. Like I said, I’d rather starve than drink from a blood bag.” But then it’s their turn to get taken by surprise as Luke offers himself instead. It doesn’t take them long to realize they’ve wanted this ever since they returned to New York as Gray. If for a moment, they forgot about how tantalizing the rush of Luke’s blood was mere seconds ago, they remember now. They rise to their feet again and pull as close to Luke as possible, the chain stopping them just out of reach, “A show of good faith, then. If you can prove to me that I can trust you’ll hold up your end of the deal, then I accept.” Their gaze drifts down Luke’s body to the hand holding the pliers, and then travels lazily back up to his eyes, “But you’ll need to come a little closer for that.”

Luke: Of course, their response to being told off is that. Luke would love to make them shut up-- perhaps he should have gotten a gag, or maybe he should just knock their teeth out. But instead of dignifying, he just releases a disgruntled grunt as in 'what the fuck is wrong with you'.

"Oh, please, save me your law of the jungle bullshit. People can make better choices than to blindly follow their baser instinct. And you're no lion." Luke scoffs, unimpressed by their reasoning. This is pretty much expected from Byrne, though. He can hardly expect the vampire with no conscience and remorse to say anything else. He hears the chains rattle again but this time stands his ground. His head is still swimming in heat, but oddly enough, he finds his composure in negotiating the rules of engagement. He lifts both his hands, each with the stake and pliers, before stowing away the weapon and dropping the pliers. Instead of saying a platitude like 'you can trust me' or 'I promise', he simply fishes out a key from his jacket, the one for the manacles. "Don't make me regret this," he sighs. Instead of crossing the threshold, he simply hands the key.

Cole: “You’re right, Lowell, I’m not a lion.” They’re worse. And as much as Luke disputes it, he has to know that truth somewhere. Yet the seraph surrenders his weapons and pulls out a key, holding it just barely within reach. Gray smiles and carefully wraps a hand around Luke’s wrist, feeling the warm pulse beneath their fingers. They linger there a moment, counting heartbeats, pulling ever so slightly. “I’m not going to harm you.” The words are quiet, almost soft despite the monster behind them. “I made a promise,” they add. “But if you’re going to be the only person I’m feeding on for the foreseeable future, I think it’s only fair I try a sample.” They lean forward and pull the hand holding the key to their lips, piercing the tip of Luke’s thumb just enough to allow a drop of blood to fall to their tongue. Call it cliché, but it’s unlike anything they’ve ever tasted. Whether that has to do with it being seraph blood or Luke specifically, they aren’t sure, but it takes an immense amount of control to let that small amount be all for now. They straighten up, sliding their hand down Luke’s wrist into his palm to grab the key from him. Finally letting go, they kneel down to unlock the cuffs around their ankles.

Luke: Luke rolls his eyes, muttering under the breath "yeah, more like a leech." Slimy and bloodsucking. Whichever beast or vermin he compares Byrne to, his stance on the matter remains unchanged-- the point of humanity is to defy their nature. Not that he is doing any better job than Byrne in that regard... Luke flinches when the cold fingers wrap around his wrist, fighting the urge to pull back his arm. His entire body stiffens, his jaw tightening. "...says the guy who tried to kill me a few hours ago." He says with a low snarl, "so fuck your promises. I'll only believe what I see." He was about to bring up the fact that Byrne is still holding his wrist, which he understood as some kind of a handshake. But apparently, the vampire had the other idea. "...wait, what?" And before he can stop it, the tiniest pinch is felt against his thumb. Incredulous and shocked, Luke just stares at Byrne sampling him. It doesn't hurt him or anything, but the act itself, that was... well... He snaps back to reality at the sound of manacles being undone and, a few seconds too late pulls back his hand. "The fuck is wrong with-- you're-- unbelievable." He wipes the thumb on his pants, glowering at the vampire. "Sampling-- am I a fucking ice cream flavor? Jesus Fucking Christ." Grumbling, he storms off, disappearing behind the shower curtain that separates the garage into two.

Cole: Gray rubs their ankles, now freed from the chains, and looks up just in time to see Luke run behind the curtain dividing the room. They laugh to themself and saunter over to lean against the wall on the other side of the curtain, “This arrangement was your idea. It’s going to be far from the last time I feed on you. Sure my phrasing was maybe a little tactless, but really that little prick was just as much for you as it was for me. Don’t you think we should both have an idea of what we’re getting ourselves into?” They hold off from telling him how he tastes, even they know that’s too much too soon. Waiting impatiently for a response they finally call out, “Luke?” A name that feels foreign on their tongue, but natural in the moment.

Luke: Luke resents the way Byrne is appealing to logic. That is not why he is all flared up. It's the... way the vampire is treating him like he is the payment of this little deal. As to why that thought bothers him, Luke cares not to explore. The twinge on his thumb is like a thorn in his side, an inconvenient reminder of what he has just gotten himself into. Huffing to himself, he grabs the first aid kit by the workbench and wraps a little band-aid on his thumb. Ever so eager to put it out of his mind. After a long pause to recollect himself, he finally responds. "...what." He snaps, glancing over the shoulder to see their silhouette behind the cheap plastic curtain. "Unless you got any more info on what happened last night, I think we're done here." He goes over a few steps closer toward them but stops at the safe distance. "...just so we're clear, you're not welcome here. I'll arrange for the... feeding time and whatever, but don't come back here." In fact, he will probably find a way to ward his safehouse, maybe upgrade its security as soon as Byrne leaves. "I'll keep you updated on the investigation."

Cole: With the rejection, something tightens in Cole’s chest. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything at all, let alone something like this, that he can barely recognize the feeling. Whatever it is, if Luke thinks he’s getting rid of them so easily after all that, he’s wrong. “I don’t have more info, but I still want some answers.” Gray shoves the thin plastic curtain aside, once again daring Luke to see them. “Why’d you do it? Huh? You’ve had so many opportunities to kill me, so why didn’t you? Why did you bring me back here? Why are you doing all of this?” They walk away a bit and turn back to gesture up and down at him, “And why are you acting so strange today?” This last question may be slightly for their own amusement. They have a sense they know the answer, but they want Luke to really think about it. “You’re all scared and jittery, nervous even. Hell, I’ve never seen you so red before. And, again, you can barely look at me. You forget that I’ve seen you with other monsters, Lowell. You’d never behave this way with them. So what’s different here?”

Luke: Luke crosses his arms, his shoulders closing which makes him look sulky and agitated-- well, more so than usual. "Dude, that's a looot of questions," he complains, turning his head away as if he suddenly finds one of the crates the most fascinating thing in this room. "...I'm not acting strange-- you're the one who was going all crazy earlier" …that sounded better in his head, less juvenile and deflecting. Pointed out that he can't look at them, he forces himself to face the vampire. "I-- am not scared, or jittery, OR nervous. Just-- don't get all up in my business, man. You're fuckin' terrible about personal space," he vents, "AND, don't get me wrong, I'm not condonin' what you did. There just are, extenuating circumstances I'd rather clear up first. You were actin' weird last night so I thought, it warrants a... provisional measure. That's all." That is not all. "And-- well, I still kinda owe you for not letting me bleed out, so... That's it." He stops himself from fumbling further on his own words. After a long pause, he mutters under his breath, "so after we get even, things can go back to normal."

Cole: Gray crosses their arms, mirroring, “Yeah. I have a lot of questions.” As Luke explains, they find themself quirking an eyebrow and scoffing intermittently at all of his self-contradictions. “You’re not exactly king of boundaries yourself, Lowell. The only real difference is that when I’m ‘all up in your business’ I’m not usually threatening your life. Speaking of which — for all your talk of wanting to kill me, you really do seem to jump a lot of hurdles to find a reason not to.” They give Luke a look suggestive of everything boiling beneath the surface of this encounter. Elements the seraph refuses to address. “Not that I’m complaining. I just find it… interesting.” Luke even mentions the blackout, Cole saving him, but not… the rest, “Oh yes, not letting you bleed out, the only thing that happened that night,” sarcasm drips from their voice. There’s no point in murmuring around a creature with supernatural hearing unless it is for one’s own sake. So Gray chalks Luke’s final mumbled statement up to a lack of confidence in his own words. “What is normal for us, Lowell? And what makes you think we’d ever be able to return to it?”

Luke: "That's-- different." Luke insists. Getting in close quarters, that is just a part of trying to kill one another. You hit them and they hit back. It's simple. The other... not so much. The worst part of this conversation is, though, that Luke is painfully aware of how little sense he makes. Hell, his own brain is taking the other side. He breathes out fragments of laughter, exasperated and crushed,"--believe it or not, I don't enjoy what I do." He confesses, perhaps out loud for the first time, because he has never had anyone to... well, talk to. Not about this. Not even with his closest friends. "Well, I don't wanna talk about the other thing, 'cause it's... weird, so forget it ever happened," he says stubbornly. Luke finally reaches his breaking point when they ask the last question. He throws off his hands in the air, erupting, "I don't fuckin' know! You were just some irredeemable good-for-nothin' piece of shit that needed to die, and I was a crazy fuck-up who was playing judge-jury-executioner like that'd change anything! I didn't want to know that you can--" he bites his tongue, swallowing his words and choking on pride. "It was easier when I just saw you as a monster. Now it's... a bit more complicated than that and it's fuckin' with my head."

Cole: “Sure is,” they roll their eyes. There’s pain in Luke’s laughter that Gray is not prepared for. He is suddenly so much more than the vigilante who seemed to live off the rush of killing evil. Yet another surprise from him. They’re tempted to ask why he does it, but Cole knows. It isn’t something Gray can relate to, but Cole understands somewhere deep down. In a life with so little control, it’s a way to take that control back. They wonder where it all started, but they doubt Luke will trust them with the answer. “I—I can’t forget,” Cole admits about the kiss, but it’s clearly something Luke deeply regrets so they add a, “sorry.” Luke goes off, trying desperately to explain himself and there’s something in his rantings that makes Cole feel… lighter? “Complicated how?” They ask, falling back into Luke’s orbit on instinct. Not to threaten him or toy with him. It’s pure draw now — captivation and curiosity. “And what do you see me as now?” Their voice nearly cracks with how low it is as their gaze pierces deep into Luke’s dark, umber eyes.

Luke: As the words leave him, his hollow anger deflates and Luke realizes how exhausted he is. Rubbing his brow as if he was trying to wipe away the fatigue, he sighs before shrugging, "well... you gotta." He doesn't even know what Byrne is after here, and frankly, he doesn't want to know. Not because he isn't curious what could possibly they want from him, but because whatever they want would probably be not something he could give. So why bother? He doubts his ears, however, when they apologize. "Well, that's a first." He scoffs, not with contempt but with despondency. "Of all things, that's what you're sorry for? You-- never mind." Luke shakes his head before lifting both his hands as in 'forget I said anything, let's not talk about it'. 

And then there it is again, the thorn in his side, the world's tiniest puncture wound on his thumb. That look of-- humanity on Cole Byrne. It sneaked past his armor, and left a dot of red on his skin. In the dark, the curves and the wrinkles and the light in the eyes are all but lost. Whatever lurks in the shadow cannot replicate such frailty. They shouldn't be able to. "...as a terrible, fucked-up, monstrous... person." Luke says each word slowly, with emphasis, not aimed at hurting Byrne but simply collecting his own thoughts as he utters them "...and I fuckin' hate seeing you that way."

Cole: “I don’t want to.” They shrug. Why they felt the need to apologize for that of all things, it was hard to say for certain. They’re not one to feel remorse for much, at least not when it came to violence. But this feels… different. Like something they should be sorry for. Even if they could explain themself, they drop the subject at Luke’s signal. 

It’s not often they’re left speechless, they always have some witty quip locked and loaded. But Luke has a strange effect on them and his answer strikes a chord that warms something in their cold, dark, lifeless heart. Even if he might not be saying much, it resonates deeper. When they’re able to finally speak, all they can say is, “Funny. You saw me as a monster long before I actually was one. Now that I am, suddenly you see me as a person.” They lift a finger to trace lightly across their lip where Luke’s blood fell, half lost in thought. “I guess it’s only a matter of time before we find out if you were wrong twice.” Snapping out of it they brush it off with a laugh, “I still don’t see how it matters one way or another.”

Luke: He gives them an ambiguous look, landing somewhere between contempt and pity. "...your funeral," Luke sighs, "but lemme make myself clear, it's not happening again, and no, I don't wanna talk about it." His life is already complicated enough.

Luke regrets his words because saying them out loud felt like an admission of defeat. Even now, a thought that looms over his mind is, that's the face Byrne makes when they're speechless. And he resents learning new things about the vampire. His hands fall by his side as he turns his head away, staring at the dreary wall of gray. "Guess so." He agrees, exhaling. "And you're right, it doesn't matter--" it shouldn't. His lips part and Luke tries to articulate the conflict between his head and his heart, what he believes and what he thinks he should believe... but nothing comes out. Instead, he says, "anyway... I think you should go."