We both cheered like we’d summoned fire from nothing.
When we finally managed to hook up the DVD player Kit found at a pawnshop, I remember him grinning, proud as ever. “See? Told you I could fix it.”
He really had. For the first time in months, the house had light, sound, and life.
Now, sitting beside him again, it felt almost normal. He turned on the TV, flipping through static and half-dead channels until he found an old movie playing.
Something black and white, soft and slow, the kind of story where nothing much happened except quiet conversation and longing looks. It suited us.
I’d already finished the blood he brought. It was animal as usual, cold and faintly metallic but enough to keep me steady. The lingering taste still coated the back of my tongue.
I’d brushed my teeth afterward, mostly for his sake. He never said anything about the smell, but I hated the reminder of what I was.
When I came back from the small bathroom, Kit had sprawled sideways on the couch, arm thrown over the back, remote in hand.
“Ready?” Kit asked.
I nodded, slipping down beside him. The cushions dipped under my weight, pressing us just close enough that our shoulders brushed. The warmth of him bled through the layers of his shirt.
I found myself leaning in before I could stop it.
The movie flickered quietly in the background. Some story about a sailor and a girl waiting for him to come home. I wasn’t really watching.
My eyes kept drifting toward Kit. The way the firelight danced over his face. The way he tilted his head when he was trying not to smile.
His hand rested between us, palm up. I hesitated for a second, then let my fingers slip into his. He didn’t even look down. Just gave a small squeeze. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
It shouldn’t have been. Hunters and vampires didn’t sit on couches holding hands. They didn’t watch movies together, didn’t share quiet nights like this. But here we were.
Minutes passed in easy silence. I felt my body relax for the first time in what felt like forever. The hum of the old TV filled the room, blending with the soft crackle of the fire.
Kit turned his head slightly.
“You okay?” Kit asked me.
I nodded. “Just tired.”
“Then don’t fight it,” he murmured.
So I didn’t.
Without really thinking, I shifted closer, curling up against him. My head found its place against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat thudding softly beneath my ear.
He froze for a second, just a second, then exhaled and wrapped an arm around me. His hand rested at the back of my neck, thumb tracing slow circles against my skin.
The simple touch sent a ripple through me. Something warm, sharp, alive.
I hadn’t been held like this in what felt like forever. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be touched without fear, without hunger, without a reason. Just because.
The movie played on. I could feel the vibrations of his laugh against my cheek when something funny happened on screen. I closed my eyes, listening, memorizing the sound.
Every inch of him radiated warmth. Every breath he took, I could feel it move through him. Steady, human, and grounding. I wanted to stay there forever.
“Comfortable?” he asked after a while, voice low, teasing.
“Mmh,” I murmured, not bothering to move.
He chuckled softly. “You’re heavier than you look.”
