Kael Draeven
Okay... I've gotta admit this is a little awkward.
Kain walked back into the cramped little sitting room, now wearing an orange sweatshirt that looked too big for him, literally swallowing his frame, hanging loose over his wrists, but not enough to hide the curve of his neck, the delicate line of his collarbone, without not even a faint mark ghosting down his skin from injuries.. he also looked a little thin.
Has he been feeding properly?
He didn't look at me at first.
Not really.
Just a cold and detached glance, the kind of look that made it clear he hadn't forgiven me, not even close. Maybe never would. And still, I couldn't stop the way my chest pulled tight. Or the bitter taste in my mouth that wasn't coffee, wasn't blood. Just guilt.
He sat down across the room, not next to me. Not even close.
His arms crossed as if he needed to keep himself together or he'd fall apart.
