“Liar,” I muttered, playfully punching him on the shoulder.
“Okay, fine. Maybe just a little.”
His hand moved again, fingers brushing through my hair. Slow, rhythmic strokes. My eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment I almost forgot what I was.
Almost forgot that under my skin, things weren’t quite human anymore. If he noticed the faint chill of my touch, he didn’t mention it. The fire popped. On screen, the sailor kissed the girl goodbye.
Something inside me ached at the sight, deep and old and familiar. That same ache that came every time I thought about what I couldn’t have.
Because this, us, it wasn’t supposed to exist.
Hunters weren’t meant to care for vampires, and vampires weren’t supposed to crave more than blood. But when Kit’s thumb brushed against the back of my hand again, slow and reassuring, I couldn’t help it.
I turned my head, just enough to look up at him. He met my gaze, and for a long moment, neither of us said anything.
There was something in his eyes then. A quiet, wordless tenderness that made my chest tighten.
“What are you looking at?” Kit asked.
“You,” I said without hesitation. “I like looking at you.”
He blinked at me, then huffed a small, crooked smile. “You should watch the movie.”
“I’d rather watch you,” I told him honestly.
That earned a laugh, soft and disbelieving. “You’re terrible.”
“Probably,” I said with a shrug, not even pretending to deny it.
He went back to stroking my hair, fingers threading lazily through it, and I let myself sink against him. His touch was steady, grounding, and yet the air between us had shifted.
Something new was taking shape in the quiet.
I rested my cheek against his chest, listening to the slow rhythm of his heart. It filled my ears, a reminder of everything I wasn’t and everything I still wanted to be.
That pulse, steady and strong, called to the part of me I tried hardest to bury.
The hunger stirred, faint but familiar, whispering how easy it would be to lean closer, just a little more, to taste what I’d denied myself for so long.
I swallowed hard, forcing the thought back down. I couldn’t ruin this. Not this. So I held on tighter instead, curling closer, hoping he couldn’t hear the war inside my chest.
He didn’t speak. Just shifted, his arm wrapping more securely around me. His scent filled my lungs until it was all I could taste. The world outside could’ve ended right then, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
And then, quietly, Kit said, “You’re still hungry, aren’t you?”
My body went still. “Kit…”
“It’s okay,” he said, voice low. “Do it.”
I pushed up slightly, searching his face. “Kit, remember our conversation before?”
He met my gaze without flinching. “Yeah and I don’t care.”
For a long moment, neither of us moved. The flickering light from the TV played across his features, painting him in pale gold and shadow. I could hear his steady heartbeat in the silence between us.
“I’ll just…” My voice cracked. I took a shaky breath. “Just a taste.”
He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and tilted his head to the side. The movement was small but deliberate, exposing the curve of his throat.
