7
Kylo
Time moves painfully slow as Kylo endures his morning classes. Though he was excited to finally get back to his regular schedule, the content isn’t nearly as riveting as the conversation he had with Lathan last night. The second his professor hints at the class finishing, he’s packing up his things, antsy to finally leave for lunch.
As he walks to the cafeteria on this side of campus, he is met with awkward glances and whispers. A few passersby even giving him quick notes of sympathy like “Glad to see you’re better!” and “You’re so brave!” He’s confused by it, but chalks it up to them having heard what happened from someone at the party—which gets under his skin. Embarrassed and anxious that the rumours spreading paints him in a bad light, or worse: may get him expelled for his less-than-savoury choices.
After a swift trip through the caf, collecting a tray and some ready-made food as quickly as possible to get away from more prying eyes, he heads toward the courtyard. The mildly overcast day and fresh air being the perfect remedy, he finds a lone table off to the side, where he can enjoy some peace and quiet.
“Kylo!” gasps a sweet, high-pitched tone.
A petite werewolf bounds up to him, wrapping her thin arms around him.
“Oh, hey!” he replies with a nervous laugh. She’s a classmate in the same major who he’s semi-familiar with. Not necessarily hug-familiar, though.
“I’m so glad you’re doing better. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss anything in our archival class. Prof’s a bore.”
“Thanks. I’m feeling a lot better.”
As she leans out of the hug, she gasps again, her doe eyes wide. “Look at you! What he did to you!” While most of his bruises are covered by his shirt, the one on his neck is still healing, though faint. Kylo realizes that his friend is looking at his fresh bruise, though, from Lathan yesterday, on the other side of his throat, assuming it’s from the ‘attack.’ He raises a hand to cover it sheepishly, tugging up his collar and tipping his head down before mulling over what she had said.
“Wait— he ?” His hand falls to rest on the table as he turns himself further to face her, confused.
She rests a hand on her hip and narrows her eyes as she says with poison, “That fucking monster. I knew we couldn’t actually trust vampires. At least wolves are predictable, but the bloodsuckers aren’t. You know they’re withholding blood from him?” She laughs. “It’s genius. Starve him out.”
Kylo just shakes his head and hands at her. “Wait, wait, wait,” he interrupts her from continuing, eyes narrowing. “There were two of them…who are you talking about?”
She leans forward and whispers, “Lathan,” as if the name itself is forsaken. “What do you mean there were two?”
“Gods, no!” he exclaims, nearly choking on his own saliva. “Lathan saved me! Holy shit…” THIS is why he’s been starving?! He never said there were rumours…why wouldn’t he tell them the truth? This is my fault. I wish I came out of confinement sooner…or didn’t seek out the vampires in the first place. “No, i-it was two others, a couple I think. A tall blonde dude and a short gal with red hair,” he says, wishing, suddenly, that he got their names.
The girl cocks her head like a dog, confused. “He saved you? I heard he was covered in blood and only brought you in to cover his butt. Wait, so it was a couple that attacked you?”
Kylo hesitates hearing the word ‘attacked.’ If he comes clean, he could be expelled, but if he passes the blame on to the two, they could tell the truth, and the result would be the same. So, he plays his words carefully, ignoring the accusation. “Lathan saved me. Promise.”
“Huh,” she breathes, standing up straight. Then, an alarm goes off in her pocket, and she grabs her phone. “Shit, I gotta go, my next class is starting.” She touches his shoulder. “Glad you’re okay!” she sings, then jogs off.
Sighing into the empty air, Kylo looks up at the cloudy sky and relishes finally being alone. I’ll talk to the kitchen staff for Lathan and set things straight. It’s the least I can do, he thinks as he looks down at his meal, picking up his sandwich and sinking his teeth into it. It doesn’t take long before his food is devoured. If werewolves are good for anything, it’s eating, to keep their fast metabolisms fuelled. Lifting a bottle to his lips, he gulps down the tangy, orange-flavoured electrolyte drink to wash everything down before letting out a refreshed breath.
“Wolf boy.” An eerily familiar male voice calls from behind him. The soft thump of feet draws across the grass of the courtyard. When Kylo turns, it’s the vampire couple who almost killed him.
His heart drops, his feet tingling in fear. FUCK. Run. Run now. Go. Leave. The commands race through his head, but he doesn’t want to make a scene. Rumours are already going around, and he doesn’t want to make things worse. Calmly, he gets up from his seat and walks over to the trash near his table. Throwing out his empty containers, and placing the tray on the rack, he walks steadily toward a treed clearing on the other side of the courtyard.
Get away. Just a little further. Don’t make a scene, just leave, just go. His heart pounds against his ribs as the shame, fear, guilt, and trauma of nearly being murdered comes rushing back to him. Paralyzed, trapped, unable to escape.
“Hey,” the woman says cheerily, “we just want to say thank you for your sweet gift.” They quicken their pace, spreading apart, corralling him like they’re herding a sheep that has strayed from its group. Turning to face them, Kylo stumbles, and before he knows it, they have him backed against a tree.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He looks around, trying to find anything to help the situation. His mouth is shut tight, afraid to say anything, his ears pinned back against his head, brows tight and downturned, unable to hide his fear.
“It really helped,” she continues, taking small steps closer. “We didn’t know there’d be a shortage, y’know?”
“Please…,” he whispers, begs, as his eyes dart between the two. Obviously not looking for another round of mischief. Not ever again.
The man, looking at him devilishly with a sly grin, walks up close and leans an arm against the tree above Kylo’s head, his tall shadow casting over the scared wolf. “And now that there is a shortage,” the man purrs, “we wouldn’t mind some more.” He touches the side of Kylo’s neck tenderly, then lifts his chin to meet his bloodshot eyes. “We’d make it worth your while, hm?” Beside him, the woman smirks, drinking up her boyfriend’s flirtatious approach.
Kylo shuts his eyes tightly against the touch, not wanting to lock onto those hungry red eyes, his brows knitting tighter as his chin begins to quiver. Every muscle in his body is tensed, frozen like a block of ice. “Please…n-not again…,” He manages to push out under his breath. In this moment, he wants nothing more than to fade away, to stop existing.
“ Back off.” A loud, stern voice suddenly breaks their closeness, the fear-filled tension. Kylo’s eyes shoot open and look forward, past the two. That voice brings with it a wave of relief.
Lathan approaches broadly, his fists balled at his sides, a black band T-shirt revealing his thick, veined forearms. Kylo watches on in awe, warmth climbing its way into his cheeks. The man towering over him, though, pushes off the tree, glaring toward Kylo’s savior, most likely recalling how ‘rudely’ he had torn him off the wolf a week prior.
“The fuck do you want now?” the man sneers. “Come to interrupt our fun with our wolf again?” He stands defensively in front of both Kylo and his girlfriend, who looks disgruntled and disappointed with her hip out and arms crossed.
Lathan’s eyes flare as he strides over to the vampire couple. Aside from his own bloodshot thirst, his dark eyes seem more menacing—in the sun, his pupils are pinned, like an animal giving warning signs of attack. “I’m not fucking around. I said back the fuck off,” he snarls. The intensity in his voice sends a shiver down Kylo’s spine.
The man flares his fangs at Lathan’s threatening demeanour. “Go find your own blood bag,” he hisses, grabbing Kylo by the shirt, pulling him into his body, “we have plans for this one.”
Kylo cowers under his grasp. As the man releases his shirt, he runs his hand from his chest to below his navel. “I’ve been told that it feels even better while you’re being fucked, ” he whispers down at him, making a show for Lathan as the woman giggles darkly. Kylo’s muscles tense as his whole body recoils away in fear, and a tear squeezes past his tightly shut eyes, rolling down his cheek. The new fear of being assaulted before being killed is now etched into his skull.
He sinks into the darkness behind his eyelids, praying they’ll stop, that no one will get hurt, that they’ll leave and never return. Until, suddenly, the body pressed against him is torn away. Looking up, agape, Lathan has the man by the throat, slamming him, hard, into the same tree Kylo was trapped against mere moments ago. Chips of bark sputter to the ground upon impact. Lathan hisses at him, eyes round and wild, emphasizing his pinned pupils.
“I kept your names out of this for his sake. Don’t make me fucking regret it.” He presses more force around the vampire’s neck, causing the vamp to cough and scratch at the vice around his throat. “You can have fun with your little fantasies, but they do not involve him. Touch him again and I’ll rip your throat out,” He growls fiercely. Kylo’s never seen him like this. The rage emanating off him is beyond intimidating—it’s bone-chilling.
Kylo stands there stunned and wide-eyed, watching Lathan exert his rippling muscles, protecting him, that he nearly forgot the woman standing off to the side. Resurfacing into his body, as if emerging from the shock, he glances over to see her frozen in place, horror on her face. It looks as if she wants to scream, wants to demand her boyfriend be set free, but perhaps she worries that if she makes a fuss, Lathan might escalate further. After a few moments of tense silence, he removes his hand, dropping the man down the trunk of the tree where he stumbles to catch his footing, gasping for air in between hoarse coughs.
Lathan moves his pinned eyes to the girlfriend, his lip curling. “Get your leech and fuck off. Don’t let me see you near Kylo again.”
After the vampire catches his breath, shaking off Lathan’s touch and straightening his jacket, both he and the woman show their fangs. “You’ll regret this,” he hisses as they turn to walk away. Kylo doesn’t take his eyes off of them as they leave, even when Lathan steps in front of him protectively, blocking their path to him.
Once they’re out of sight, he looks up at the back of him, the messy black hair falling just past his shoulders, his heavy and controlled breathing, a whisper of air passing around his bared fangs. Kylo’s lips part, utterly enamoured with Lathan. A vampire, so effortlessly strong and deadly, yet his blood burns hot for him in this moment. He’s like a god.
His personal bodyguard turns to face him, strands of hair draped in front of his eyes, his pupils still alarmingly small and threatening—most likely a feature common among vampires. They watch each other silently for a moment before Lathan’s fangs retract into his gums to appear as they had before: straight, normal, pearly whites.
“Did Trevor or Alanna hurt you?” he asks calmly. Trevor and Alanna . The names sear themselves into Kylo’s memories like a branding iron, finally labeling his attackers.
He almost forgets to reply, lost in both thought and image, staring at his figure, unable to shake off what he just did for him, again. “N-no,” he stutters, his voice shakier than anticipated. “I’m okay.” He meets his eyes. “Thank you,” he breathes before swallowing.
The second he breathes his gratitude, those same muscled arms reach out, pulling Kylo in against his chest, wrapping softly around him. His embrace is firm, yet gentle, safe. Caught off guard by this action, Kylo’s heart skips a few beats, his cheeks turning the shade of a freshly picked cherry. He… Gods, he’s hugging me, he thinks, panicking like a schoolgirl with a crush. Lifting his arms, he hesitates before placing them around Lathan, but pulls tightly the moment he does. Sinking into his strong frame, he closes his eyes and lets out a smooth breath, enjoying every passing second before it’s gone.
Slowly, Lathan’s lower hand slips to his lower back and grips his upper hip. The travelling hand makes Kylo’s heart skip again, as if it confirms the feelings that are beginning to bloom in his chest. His own grip tightens ever so slightly around his back, not wanting to let go, not wanting this to end.
“Thank you,” he repeats under his breath, but it’s for more than just his protection.
A low-toned chime rings out from within the cafeteria—the clock signaling the hour. Kylo’s ears perk up at the sound.
“Shit.” His heart drops along with his arms. Despite his desire to stay, he can’t afford to miss any more classes. “I’m sorry, I gotta get to class,” he says as he takes a few steps away from his body. Lathan sticks his hands in his pockets and steps back to give him space.
He turns to look at the building his class resides in, and then glances back at Lathan longingly. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Kylo adds, more so a plea, in hopes that Lathan will be there when he returns to their dorm. Lathan says nothing more, replying with small, simple nods before Kylo rushes off.
Once afternoon classes have ended, the cafeteria shifts its offerings for students to get dinner. Kylo arrives immediately after class. But despite his hunger, all he can think about is Lathan. A lot has happened over the past two weeks, but the feeling of Lathan’s arms wrapped tightly around him is a highlight he won’t easily forget—his body goes flush every time the memory pops into his mind.
In an attempt to counteract the blood loss he seems to be encountering as of late, Kylo makes a conscious effort to select foods that are iron-rich or aid in blood flow— thank you, Internet, for the helpful information —washing them down with plenty of water and electrolytes. During his meal, he scribbles in his pocketbook, filtering his stream of thoughts into a poem, capturing his current feelings as he often does in his free time. Though, this time, it’s a feeling he can’t quite seem to pinpoint whenever he’s around his new roomie.
Why does my breath hilt when you’re in the room
Where do my thoughts run when you speak to me
When did time away from you become time that feels lost
Who do you see when I’m around you
How have I fallen so quickly for a man I barely know
What would you say if I shared this with you
Kylo lets this poem, these questions, swirl around in his head, marinating in them and what they mean, for as long as he can savour. Slipping the book back into his pocket, he carries his tray to the rack to be collected before heading toward the blood supply counter across the room.
He knocks on the window, catching the attention of a woman working in the back. She walks up and opens the window, nearly reminding him that supply is on a different day, until her eyes land on Kylo’s ears and sheepish fanged-grin—a werewolf, not a vampire. He talks to her about the incident he was admitted into the clinic for, and addresses the rumours floating around that call Lathan the perpetrator. Though skeptical at first glance, her tone shifts when he explains the situation, reassuring him that she would inform the other staff and make sure a ration of their supply is set aside for him come Monday.
Before parting ways, she asks the name of the true attacker. Noting students passing by, too close for Kylo’s comfort for this conversation, still afraid of a potential expulsion if he’s found out, he places his hand on the shoulder strap of his bag, taking a step back.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know a Trevor ,” he says with confidence, giving her a look that says everything she needs to know.