[ she tucks herself against him like it's something they do all the same and he blows out a quiet breath meant to calm him so he doesn't get too caught up in the closeness. he's just being helpful. just being a friend. an acquaintance? he doesn't know. ]
Uh. [ the question surprises him so much that he actually has to think about the answer. ] B negative.
[ at least, that's what they'd put on his chart the last time he'd gotten shot. he doesn't know if they'd actually tested his blood or just guessed considering what his blood actually looked like. not a lot of human doctors and nurses wanted to get close. ]
Last I checked, at least. [ ha ha, he's funny or something. ] Haven't really bled in awhile to get myself tested.
[ b positive is her preference (and her motto). b negative's the inverse. it makes sense, in a way, that things would align that way. less temptation to turn in and dig her teeth into his neck. ]
That's good, though. I don't want you to get hurt.
[ in more ways than one. she doesn't want him to get hurt by someone (or something) else, but also by her. at least not physically. ]
Well, I don't wanna get hurt either. Sometimes it happens, though. [ side effect of the life he lived, unfortunately. he sighs and peers over at her, checking to make sure she's still good before looking forward once again. ]
The trick's in dealing with what comes after. [ the aftermath. the loss. the recovery. that's the hardest part, he thinks, and sometimes, it feels like you'll never get through. ]
Are you okay? [ before she can answer, he adds: ] I don't mean just...right now. I mean in general. Are you okay?
I'm okay. [ it sounds less cheerful, though. almost forced, like someone who refuses to admit the alternative. her voice wavers at the end. ] Why wouldn't I be okay?
[ because you drank half a bottle of high-end, high-octane bourbon on an empty stomach and you haven't fed in two days, caroline. because you're a weepy, insecure drunk with rejection issues. ]
I'm not — I got out, right? I'm not in that stupid cage anymore, nobody's shooting at me, I'm — I'm okay.
[ marcos halts their walk and crosses in front of her, a frown etched on his face. it's almost automatic to reach out, to rest one hand on her shoulder and the other lightly against her cheek to try and draw her attention back to him, back away from those thoughts and outward.
he doesn't know what she's talking about and this is probably not the time to ask. he doesn't want to make her remember more of what seems to be a traumatic experience. ]
You're okay. You're not in a cage, no one's shooting at you, you're good. You're a little drunk but so am I. Okay? Look at me, focus there. You're good. I promise.
I'm not drunk. [ in the stubborn, petulant way of a young girl who is absolutely, definitely tipsy. ] I'm not.
[ but she is looking, even if she's having a hard time focusing on just one part of him. no, her gaze drifts, drags; his eyes, his mouth, the slope of his jaw where his beard has begun to thicken a bit, the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder. she takes in a breath (to steady herself, to calm her racing thoughts) only to catch his scent, only to take in another, deeper, just to savor on it.
he smells so good. her brain knows on instinct that he'll taste so much better now, rich and deep and smoky from the bourbon, her favorite things all blended together. and she's so hungry, so hungry, and he's right there... ]
[ hungry? that...that makes sense, actually. they'd started drinking without thinking about what it might do to them on an empty stomach. he was definitely drunk but she seemed to be reacting to the lack of food in a much more obvious way than him.
he'd probably just have a terrible hangover. but, if she was hungry, they could...that could be fixed. he drops his hand from her cheek and steps closer to her once again, keeping one arm around her to make sure she stayed upright. ]
All right. Then, you should eat.
[ obviously. if that's what she needed, that's what should happen. ]
[ it comes out practically a whimper, her eyes transfixed on the crook of his neck, the bob of his adam's apple; as she stares, all she can hear is the steady thumping of his heartbeat in her ears. ]
But I can't.
[ not just shouldn't. she can't. she likes him, stupid as that is, and if she just up and bites him in the middle of the street, he's definitely never going to like her back. no, she needs to wait until she gets back to the safehouse, to find someone, anybody else, to take the edge off. ]
[ he's...confused, honestly. food's food and she should be able to eat what she wants so she feels better. denying herself is just going to make however she's feeling worse. but he also knows he can't really force her to eat something if she doesn't want to. ]
Uh, all right. Do you want me to walk you back still?
[ they weren't that far away from the safehouse and maybe she'd change her mind about stopping into some place and grabbing something to eat on the way. ]
[ both? neither? sure, she could sit down and have a fake burger and a bucket of fries and feel her hunger tamper down to a low roar, but it's not what she's craving right now. even a bloody steak on the blue side of rare wouldn't quite sate the urge. if half a bottle of bourbon didn't leave her numb, she's not sure what will. ]
I can make it. I don't want to ruin your night.
[ not that he was really doing anything anyway, considering the reasons she'd dragged him out earlier, but still. it's a good excuse. ]
[ he'd actually enjoyed coming out with her even if the conversation had veered a little more personal and deeper than he'd planned. it had been nice to talk about it with someone who seemingly understood. ]
I don't mind walking you but if you'd rather go alone... [ he's not going to force her to stick with him. ] I'm probably just going to head back anyway and lay down after I see if anyone needs anything done around the safehouse.
[ so this had definitely been the highlight of his day. ] If you're gonna go, thanks for taking me out. It was the opposite of a ruined night.
[ sometimes, the most reckless decisions come from the best intentions. she can hear the rejection in his voice, the trail off of disappointment, and it burns. it's too familiar, and not at all how she wants him to feel.
so maybe it's stupid, maybe it's reckless, but caroline doesn't care. she surges forward, wraps her arms tight around him in a warm hug. he's a few inches taller than matt, so she can't quite get her chin against his shoulder; instead, her mouth presses against it, held tightly closed to prevent any errant impulses from ruining the gesture. ]
I'm not trying to get rid of you.
[ at least not like that. ]
I'm just ... I get cranky when I'm hungry. Nobody wants to see that.
I nearly bit your head off earlier because I was grumpy and you stuck around. [ so, apparently she'd wanted to see that out of him. she was selling herself way too short.
it takes marcos a second to wrap his arms around her, return the embrace but he does. he closes his eyes even, lets himself enjoy it because it's such a simple action but one he's missed for awhile. ]
I don't care if you're cranky. I care that you're comfortable so you do what you have to do for that.
[ if it was go off on her own, that was fine. he wasn't going to be angry. ]
I doubt you could really get rid of me anyway. We're living in the same place.
[ it would be so easy, wouldn't it? to open her mouth, to bare her fangs, to sink teeth into the crook of his neck and seek out the warmth of his blood into her mouth. it wouldn't take but a second or two, and with her grip tight around him, he wouldn't have anywhere to go.
but he'd know then, without any question. he'd know, and more importantly, he'd know before she had a chance to tell him, before she could try to ease into things so that he wouldn't immediately turn and run the other way (or worse). there'd be no coming back from that.
so while it's tempting (and it is), caroline takes a deep breath, followed by another, in and out until the screaming bloodlust in her head simmers to a soft roar, until she can swallow down the pinprick of her fangs begging to come out and speak a little more normally. ]
I'll eat when we get back.
[ if there's anyone around at this time of night. ]
[ if she was sure. he'd walk her back and let her go eat while he probably fell face first into a bed and tried to sleep off everything he's had to drink tonight. he'd wake up in the morning with a hangover and a lot of regret (about the drinking) but probably wouldn't deter him from doing it again. ]
Come on, we're not that far away. [ he'd drop her at the front of the safehouse and let her do her thing. ] And then you can eat.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Uh. [ the question surprises him so much that he actually has to think about the answer. ] B negative.
[ at least, that's what they'd put on his chart the last time he'd gotten shot. he doesn't know if they'd actually tested his blood or just guessed considering what his blood actually looked like. not a lot of human doctors and nurses wanted to get close. ]
Last I checked, at least. [ ha ha, he's funny or something. ] Haven't really bled in awhile to get myself tested.
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That's good, though. I don't want you to get hurt.
[ in more ways than one. she doesn't want him to get hurt by someone (or something) else, but also by her. at least not physically. ]
Do you wanna ask me another question?
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The trick's in dealing with what comes after. [ the aftermath. the loss. the recovery. that's the hardest part, he thinks, and sometimes, it feels like you'll never get through. ]
Are you okay? [ before she can answer, he adds: ] I don't mean just...right now. I mean in general. Are you okay?
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[ because you drank half a bottle of high-end, high-octane bourbon on an empty stomach and you haven't fed in two days, caroline. because you're a weepy, insecure drunk with rejection issues. ]
I'm not — I got out, right? I'm not in that stupid cage anymore, nobody's shooting at me, I'm — I'm okay.
[ overshare??? ]
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[ marcos halts their walk and crosses in front of her, a frown etched on his face. it's almost automatic to reach out, to rest one hand on her shoulder and the other lightly against her cheek to try and draw her attention back to him, back away from those thoughts and outward.
he doesn't know what she's talking about and this is probably not the time to ask. he doesn't want to make her remember more of what seems to be a traumatic experience. ]
You're okay. You're not in a cage, no one's shooting at you, you're good. You're a little drunk but so am I. Okay? Look at me, focus there. You're good. I promise.
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[ but she is looking, even if she's having a hard time focusing on just one part of him. no, her gaze drifts, drags; his eyes, his mouth, the slope of his jaw where his beard has begun to thicken a bit, the curve of his neck where it meets his shoulder. she takes in a breath (to steady herself, to calm her racing thoughts) only to catch his scent, only to take in another, deeper, just to savor on it.
he smells so good. her brain knows on instinct that he'll taste so much better now, rich and deep and smoky from the bourbon, her favorite things all blended together. and she's so hungry, so hungry, and he's right there... ]
I'm just hungry.
[ pathetic. ]
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he'd probably just have a terrible hangover. but, if she was hungry, they could...that could be fixed. he drops his hand from her cheek and steps closer to her once again, keeping one arm around her to make sure she stayed upright. ]
All right. Then, you should eat.
[ obviously. if that's what she needed, that's what should happen. ]
There anything specific you want?
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[ it comes out practically a whimper, her eyes transfixed on the crook of his neck, the bob of his adam's apple; as she stares, all she can hear is the steady thumping of his heartbeat in her ears. ]
But I can't.
[ not just shouldn't. she can't. she likes him, stupid as that is, and if she just up and bites him in the middle of the street, he's definitely never going to like her back. no, she needs to wait until she gets back to the safehouse, to find someone, anybody else, to take the edge off. ]
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[ he's...confused, honestly. food's food and she should be able to eat what she wants so she feels better. denying herself is just going to make however she's feeling worse. but he also knows he can't really force her to eat something if she doesn't want to. ]
Uh, all right. Do you want me to walk you back still?
[ they weren't that far away from the safehouse and maybe she'd change her mind about stopping into some place and grabbing something to eat on the way. ]
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[ both? neither? sure, she could sit down and have a fake burger and a bucket of fries and feel her hunger tamper down to a low roar, but it's not what she's craving right now. even a bloody steak on the blue side of rare wouldn't quite sate the urge. if half a bottle of bourbon didn't leave her numb, she's not sure what will. ]
I can make it. I don't want to ruin your night.
[ not that he was really doing anything anyway, considering the reasons she'd dragged him out earlier, but still. it's a good excuse. ]
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[ he'd actually enjoyed coming out with her even if the conversation had veered a little more personal and deeper than he'd planned. it had been nice to talk about it with someone who seemingly understood. ]
I don't mind walking you but if you'd rather go alone... [ he's not going to force her to stick with him. ] I'm probably just going to head back anyway and lay down after I see if anyone needs anything done around the safehouse.
[ so this had definitely been the highlight of his day. ] If you're gonna go, thanks for taking me out. It was the opposite of a ruined night.
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so maybe it's stupid, maybe it's reckless, but caroline doesn't care. she surges forward, wraps her arms tight around him in a warm hug. he's a few inches taller than matt, so she can't quite get her chin against his shoulder; instead, her mouth presses against it, held tightly closed to prevent any errant impulses from ruining the gesture. ]
I'm not trying to get rid of you.
[ at least not like that. ]
I'm just ... I get cranky when I'm hungry. Nobody wants to see that.
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it takes marcos a second to wrap his arms around her, return the embrace but he does. he closes his eyes even, lets himself enjoy it because it's such a simple action but one he's missed for awhile. ]
I don't care if you're cranky. I care that you're comfortable so you do what you have to do for that.
[ if it was go off on her own, that was fine. he wasn't going to be angry. ]
I doubt you could really get rid of me anyway. We're living in the same place.
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but he'd know then, without any question. he'd know, and more importantly, he'd know before she had a chance to tell him, before she could try to ease into things so that he wouldn't immediately turn and run the other way (or worse). there'd be no coming back from that.
so while it's tempting (and it is), caroline takes a deep breath, followed by another, in and out until the screaming bloodlust in her head simmers to a soft roar, until she can swallow down the pinprick of her fangs begging to come out and speak a little more normally. ]
I'll eat when we get back.
[ if there's anyone around at this time of night. ]
Promise.
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[ if she was sure. he'd walk her back and let her go eat while he probably fell face first into a bed and tried to sleep off everything he's had to drink tonight. he'd wake up in the morning with a hangover and a lot of regret (about the drinking) but probably wouldn't deter him from doing it again. ]
Come on, we're not that far away. [ he'd drop her at the front of the safehouse and let her do her thing. ] And then you can eat.
[ hopefully. ]