Chapter 11 #2
Finn grinned, showing off his pointy canines, then turned and put on the TV. He navigated through various streaming services until he finally settled on a Christmas movie.
“This okay?”
“Sure.”
I didn’t plan on watching the movie anyway.
I was in Finn’s apartment, with him right next to me, his scent surrounding me. I was going to watch him. Bask in his presence. Try to take my fill of him.
Finn was right; he was constantly talking, waving his hands animatedly while criticizing the plot.
No, Rachel’s boyfriend wasn’t abusive just because he questioned whether upheaving her whole life and her career as a prosecutor to take over the small bakery her grandma had run was a good idea. Especially after suffering a tragic loss—a.k.a. her grandma.
No, telling her he wouldn’t abandon his own career as an architect to move to bumfuck nowhere was also not him trying to force or pressure her to stay.
Finn snorted a laugh, his face and posture relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in months, maybe years. Back was a bit of the boyish charm that’d always drawn me in. The casual, open smiles. The way his passion could light up a whole room.
I was thrown back to freshman orientation, when I’d first gotten a glimpse of him.
He’d been deep in discussion with someone, growing more and more agitated by the minute.
His hands were waving, his eyes blazing, fury reddening his cheeks.
They’d still been a bit round, his features softer than they were now.
He’d worn his hair differently too. Back then, he’d had the same haircut as everyone: short on the sides, longer on top.
Now his hair was more on trend, longer, a bit grungy, with something akin to curtain bangs framing his face. Hell, his hairstyle looked straight out of some magazine from the nineties.
“Oh, come on,” he complained, turning his head to look at me.
“Of course she has to fall for the hardware store owner because he offered to help her change the lights in her store.” He snorted, shaking his head.
“Hey, honey. Oh, by the way, I’m breaking up with you because I found someone better.
He’s changing my lights for me because he says that way I don’t have to buy a ladder. Sorry, boo.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“I mean, seriously,” Finn said again, pointing at the screen. “She owns an operational bakery… and they don’t have any stepladders? Or, you know, a fucking chair she could use?”
I grimaced. “Using a chair could be dangerous.”
Finn gave me a withering look. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want her to put a chair on top of a table, climb up on both, and then try to reach the lamp. I mean a simple chair.”
“It still—”
“Eric. If you’re not steady enough on your feet to get up on a sturdy chair, you have no business attempting to climb up a ladder.” He smacked my arm. “She’s thirty-something, not eighty.”
My skin was burning up where he’d hit me. Not because it’d hurt—I’d barely felt it—but because every nerve in my body was coming back to life just to send a shock of electricity through me. I felt his touch tingling in my fingertips, in my fucking toes.
“Maybe you’d think differently if you spent a couple of weeks in the ER.”
Finn cocked his head. “Have you done, like, an internship or whatever, in the ER?”
“No.” I hadn’t gotten that far.
He must’ve seen something in my face or heard something in my answer, because he placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.
“Do you miss it? Med school, I mean?”
Good question.
“Yeah. I really, really do.” Which was something I’d never told anybody. Especially Bennie. “You know… my accident… I was on my way to help. I didn’t know what was going on, but there were gunshots, and like a complete and utter idiot, I ran toward it instead of away from it.”
Finn gaped at me. “You were shot?”
Oh. Damn.
“Yeah.”
“Holy hell, the way you said it earlier, I thought you’d gotten into a car crash or something like that. I didn’t think you’d gotten shot.”
The way he looked at me, so full of shock and worry, did something to my insides. It was almost as if my body remembered how to be human and sustain body heat.
“I don’t like to talk about it.”
Finn nodded, his hand squeezing my shoulder again, his scent surrounding me like a blanket. Comforting, warm, and fuzzy.
“I get that. Can I ask one more question?”
No, because every question brought me closer to revealing a truth he wasn’t ready for. And maybe one I wasn’t ready to share.
“Sure. But I can’t promise I’ll answer.”
Finn huffed. “Fair.” He took his time studying my face, my body, then looked me in the eye again.
“What kind of permanent damage? Are we talking about muscle damage? Nerve damage? If you hadn’t said anything, I’d never have known.
I just want to make sure I’m not, like, inviting you out to go rock climbing when you can’t use your hand, and I’m coming off as an insensitive ass. ”
Oof.
“Do you like going rock climbing?” I asked. I’d never seen evidence of that. Then again, I could only watch over him in the evenings. He’d have been back home by then.
“No. It was just an example. I do like to go bouldering, but I’m really not that good. And now, answer my question. If you want to.” He poked my side, and I let out a laugh.
“Okay, okay.” I raised my hands in defeat. “No, I don’t have any muscle damage. The permanent damage is more internal.”
Being undead was an internal change, right?
Apparently, it was considered true as the words came out of my mouth without a problem.
“Oh, okay. That’s…” Finn stopped, shaking his head. “Nope, I’m not going to tell you that’s good because it’s not. It obviously sucks. Especially if you had to give up on med school.”
How was it possible that his compassion felt so good? Not cold and uncomfortable like pity, but warm and cozy.
“Thanks. My life is different now, but I’m starting to get used to it.”
Finn nodded. “From what I can tell, you seem to be very put together.”
I bit my lip to keep a laugh inside. Me?
Put together? Yeah, I was so put together I spent almost every night watching him.
So put together I was sitting on a fucking rooftop looking through his window just to be able to glimpse him.
So fucking put together I couldn’t go even a day without getting my fix of him.
I was behaving like a fucking junkie.
But yes, aside from my completely normal desire to make sure a guy I’d never even talked to before was safe, I was very put together.
“I don’t really feel like it,” I admitted.
Most of the time, I felt like I was drowning, barely managing to keep my head above water.
Finn moved a bit closer, placing his head on my shoulder. “That makes two of us.”
I raised my brows, even though he couldn’t see it. “You?”
He nodded against my shoulder, a little sigh escaping his lips.
“The last couple of months have been literal hell. I’ve been working on my thesis non-stop while juggling my job at a coffee shop and the last classes I needed to graduate.
Then I needed to add in applying for jobs.
It’s just… so much. Apparently, while trying to get everything done, I’ve neglected myself.
Now I have gastritis, iron deficiency, and a creepy stalker who’s constantly giving me medical advice.
And the worst part is, sometimes I feel like maybe I should just listen to him. So maybe I’m crazier than I thought.”
Or maybe he felt the connection between us even through my notes.
“Do you want to talk about your stalker?”
Finn shook his head again. “No. I want to stay like this and finish this damn ridiculous movie with you. Because I haven’t felt at peace like I do right now in ages.”
“Same.” I was pretty sure I hadn’t been this calm ever since my life had ended and my existence had begun.
So I put my arms around Finn, pulled him closer, and inhaled deeply, taking in his heady scent. His blood was calling to me, steadily pumping through his veins, enticing me to take a bite.
But I refrained.
Instead, I closed my eyes, let his scent wash over me, and just… existed.
With my mate in my arms, my existence didn’t look so bad anymore.
Finn was quietly snoring at my side, his head lolling on my shoulder, his body lax against me. His deep, even breaths and slow, steady heart rate told me he was dead asleep.
Completely relaxed.
The movie had finished ages ago, but I didn’t mind being used as a pillow. Not if Finn was the one doing it. I used the opportunity to snap a couple of pics of him, all relaxed and cuddled against me, of us cuddling on his threadbare couch.
Checking out the photos, I marveled at my own expression. I barely recognized myself in the pictures, but it wasn’t a bad look for me at all. I was… happy. Content.
Finn sighed, shifting his weight, and I carefully moved to the side, grabbed a pillow, and gently placed it under his head. I brushed a couple of strands of hair out of his face and watched for any signs of him waking up, but there were none. No hitch in breathing, no elevated pulse.
He really was out for the night.
I got up quietly and grabbed his comforter from his bed, then gently tucked him in. He let out a happy sigh and snuggled deeper into it.
I should probably leave.
Hell, it was almost midnight. It was definitely time for me to go.
But I was reluctant to.
I caressed his cheeks and petted his head.
The vein in his neck sang to me, drawing me in. It’d be so fucking easy to take a bite. He’d never know.
My conscience said no, but my whole body screamed yes.
He was what I really wanted. Had always wanted. His blood, not some random guy’s.
Usually, I didn’t think twice about taking a little sip from an unsuspecting human, but it was different with Finn.
Consent was important.
I chuckled quietly. Bennie would have a lot to say about consent being important, while I basically stalked Finn, which was crossing all sorts of boundaries.
But that was different.
Watching over him was important. I was doing it for Finn, to keep him safe.
Drinking from him wouldn’t be for him. It’d be for me. Selfish. He needed all the blood he had until his iron levels increased.
But maybe…
I bit my lip, piercing the delicate skin in the process because my fangs had come out.
Maybe I could make just a little prick.
Just like last time.
A drop or two, just enough to get a taste, so I could see for myself that his iron levels were improving.
He wouldn’t notice a thing. And he wouldn’t miss a drop or two. It wasn’t like I was drinking from him. I wasn’t being selfish, quite the contrary. Taking just a drop would be hell on my restraint, but…
I growled in frustration, the sound reverberating deep in my chest.
Should I or shouldn’t I?
There was no easy answer.
One could argue that Finn had been seen by a doctor, that he’d made a follow-up appointment, and was apparently taking his meds. But did I know all that for sure? No.
And his track record of taking care of himself wasn’t all that great.
Fucking fuck.
I was going to do it, wasn’t I?
My hand was already searching for his. I reveled in the warmth of his skin as I found it and carefully pulled it a little closer.
Last time, I’d picked his ring finger, so this time I chose a different one.
Tipping the pad of his middle finger against my fang was enough to pierce the skin.
I carefully massaged the pad until a fat drop had formed at the wound, then quickly licked it off.
His flavor exploded in my mouth, my eyes rolling back.
He tasted so… fucking… good. His flavor was divine, and even the chemical tang of his meds didn’t turn me off in the slightest. No, it was a relief because it meant he really was taking his pills regularly.
As for the iron… I waited for a second drop to form and licked it off again.
This time, his taste wasn’t as overwhelming.
Not any less divine, but I’d been better able to brace for it, and yep, sure enough, the metallic notes had increased.
They still weren’t where I wanted them to be, still not as distinguished and front and center as in the bagged blood I regularly drank, but not as horribly absent as last time.
I indulged and licked off a third and final drop of his blood, then licked over the wound again, making sure to seal it and let it heal.
Caressing his hair again, I let out a sigh of relief at the knowledge that he was really starting to take better care of himself.
And I’d happily help him, as myself but also as the guy who left notes at his door, for as long as I couldn’t say those things to him in person.
Finn was precious.
And I’d keep him safe. No matter the means, no matter the cost.
He was worth it.