slowtoanger: (14)
slowtoanger ([personal profile] slowtoanger) wrote in [community profile] amrev_intrigues 2022-11-23 04:24 am (UTC)

Burr is not wholly sensible to the movement, to the space, where he is and who is with him. But he recognizes the smell. A good, wonderful smell. Yes, yes, this is where he needs to be, even as it is undercut by a feeling of sick wrongness. But--maybe that is the smell of the wound. Of suffering.

Burr drops to his knees immediately, trembling to the side of the bed Jefferson reclines on. There is still something lingering here, faintly. Too faint for anyone to notice but his own--heat, stale beneath sick. He ducks his head, presses it against Jefferson's outstretched hand, a show of submission. A plea.

He remembers--he was told to go. He needed to be with his mate. He was told to be with his mate.

"He won't have me," Burr says, a little broken sound. "I have to--he said--I need to be with my mate." Confusion there, beneath fever.

Post a comment in response:

This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting