#xbxng

    This one is strange, even for the likes of him.       His senses scream of the unnatural, and yet he       can't quite get a bead on what, exactly, made her       so. To say the least, his curiosity is piqued.

      Claws lay hidden just beneath the skin, itching to       break through as he dared to approach. If she       made even one wrong move, they'd find their way       to the soft flesh of her throat, in a matter of seconds.

{ WHY MUST YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS }

      Gunshots rang in his ears, cuing a string of blood-curdling screams. He was on that grassy knoll again, knees buried into blood-stricken soil, frantic, quivering hands threading through flaxen tresses, as if it were truly going to help matters…

      The grip on his mug tightened; his jaw becoming rigid, already frigid expression seemingly growing colder by the second. What could easily be mistaken for a look of contempt was actually quite the opposite, albeit Frank had lost the ability to differentiate between the two a long time ago. Although there were unmistakable differences, there were more than enough similarities present to trigger the vigilante. To say the least — it made Frank extremely uncomfortable, to the point where he was second guessing his decision in accepting aid altogether.

NO I DIDN'T OMFG. I'M YELLING.

      Without so much as a word or regard for whatever else       she may have been doing at the time, Jason quietly       slipped onto the couch beside her, his head coming to       rest in her lap.