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Legs groans as he stretches, his muscles twisting and pulling uncomfortably.
He stands shirtless in his room, looking at himself through a mirror. The first moment alone he’s had since being attacked. It’s far too quiet.
There’s cuts across his chest, deep, red and angry. He can feel them pulling back open any time he twists the wrong way. He needs stitches. He’ll do it later. He looks himself over from his feet, to his legs, his stomach then his chest, his shoulders then-
He inhales sharply as his gaze goes to look at the bite scar on his neck. It’s still there, but hardly, it’s marred by the new scratches. They’re not as deep as the ones across his chest, but it’s still there.
It’s there and it’s covering the marks from when Owen had fed from him. From when he had trusted Owen to sink his teeth into flesh and that, afterwards, he’d be okay.
That’ll never happen again.
He finally forces his eyes away from his reflection. He’s healing well, all things considered. No infection.
No infection, he’s safe.
He grabs a shirt, different then his normal doctor's coat. It buttons in the front, easier to put on. He doesn’t have to stretch his arms as much.
He’s searched around his house, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing much has changed, a few bottles out of place, no doubt that was Avid, missing bandages from when Abolish had done his best to put him back together after Owen..
He freezes as he looks towards the window. Darkness swallows everything outside of it, leaving no view other than black. That’s not the most unnerving part of it, though. It’s that his window is open.
He walks towards it, slowly for the first few steps before deciding not to waste his time.
Anything that’s going to happen will happen regardless.
His hands grab at the edges of it and he goes to pull it closed, but-
“Wait.” A voice. “Let me come in.” Legs doesn’t respond, he doesn’t move.
“Please.”
“You can come in.”
Then, a bat flies in. He watches it fly behind him, land on the floor. And Owen is in front of him.
“Owen.” The words come out as less than a whisper.
“Legundo.” Owen nods, his eyes flicker down to Legs neck and he frowns.
“Why are you..” He trails off, crossing his arms. “Why are you here?”
“You ate garlic.” He takes a step forward. “What was all that about trust just for you to do that?”
Legs scoffs. “Don’t talk to me about trust- you tried to turn me!”
“I thought you trusted me.” Owen repeats, he looks.. genuinely upset. “You had said you trusted me. You let me feed from you.”
“Obviously I shouldn’t have trusted you- Owen, how is this my fault? You tried to turn me into a vampire. We had talked, we had said neither of us would change the other. I wouldn’t cure you. You wouldn’t turn me.” He gestures to Owen, wincing as he feels the cuts his chest pull open. “And even though you didn’t turn me- you killed me!”
“You tried to take him from me!” Owen shouts, rushing forward and grabbing onto Legs’ shirt. “You used his name against me then tried to take the one piece of him I have left!”
“What have I told you, Owen? What have I repeated to you countless times?” He swallows thickly, he won’t show that he’s scared, he won’t. Owen can’t know.
“What you are doesn’t define you.” He pauses.
He should’ve shut up by now. “What you are doesn’t define him. Shelby could be right, werewolves could be real, you could somehow turn into one and that still wouldn’t take away from the fact that he is with you.”
“You are a liar.” Owen’s grip tightens, his claws tear through the fabric of Legs’ shirt. “I trusted you and you lie to me.”
“I trusted you and you tried to turn me into a vampire.” Legs scoffs. “I don’t see how I’m in the wrong here.”
“You used his name against me!” Owen shoves him away.
Legs stumbled backwards, falling to the ground with a heavy thud.
“Owen! What the-“ He looks up to the vampire.
He’s crying.
“You were the one person I thought I could tell about him.” Owen mutters, sitting on the ground as well. He pulls his knees to his chest and rests his cheek on them. “I thought finally, maybe someone deserved to hear of him.”
“Do you not think that of me anymore?” He asks, voice quiet.
“I don’t know what I think of you anymore.”
“I am sorry for using his name.. in such a way.” Legs stands, reaching his hand out to Owen, he doesn’t take it. “You shouldn’t have done that to me, though.” His voice shakes. “It would’ve just made things worse.”
“I won’t deal with this. I won’t deal with you trying to make excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses for myself! I’m trying to say that what you did was wrong too, you can’t act like I was the only one at fault here.” Legs sighs, exasperated.
“Louis is dead!” Owen shouts again, springing up from where he once sat. “You used the one man who has ever truly loved me’s name against me and expected me not to be upset? Then when I offer you my version of a cure, you yell at me.”
“And I shouldn't have done that, I know! But like I said, Owen. I don’t deserve eternity. I have done such horrible things. I drove an entire town to cannibalism. I’m not a good person, when I die it will be for the better.”
Owen hesitates, walking around the room as Legs talks. Small, repetitive circles, like an animal trapped at a zoo. He stills when Legs falls silent.
“I get it.” Owen says, turning to Legs. “When I was human, I thought death was the kindest end for me. I won’t say I’m sorry but I won’t..” He blinks, thinking his words through. “I don’t forgive you for using his name.”
“That’s fine.” Legs turns away, his earlier stoic expression wearing thin. “I don’t want you to keep ignoring me like this, though.” His voice drops. “I can’t handle that.”
Legs nods, spinning around to face Owen once more. “Thank you.” He whispers, wincing as his arms swing, pulling at the skin on his torso.
“Ow.” It's hardly a whisper, there’s no breath behind his words.
But Owen hears, and all the sudden he’s right in front of Legs.
“Let me see.” He demands, eyes wide, inhuman.
“No, Owen. It’s fine I just looked.” It’s spoken more as a prayer than a question.
“I’ve smelt your blood since I flew up to the window. It can be fine. Fine doesn’t mean good.”
“Please.”
“I’m looking.” He moves to unbutton Legs shirt, his movements fast.
Then it’s undone.
Legs stands exposed, blood bright against his skin.
He sees Owen stiffen, his posture worsening. A frown forms on his lips. He reaches out and so, so carefully, runs a claw across the largest gash. Legs has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself still.
Then Owen stands taller, his eyes snap up to Legs face. “They were right.” He says softly. “I must be a monster. The only person in such a long time to show me such kindness and I do this?”
“I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you were mistreated for your entire life, then hid away. You’re right. I did betray your trust.” Legs responds, grabbing Owen’s shoulders as he speaks. “You are not a monster, Owen.”
Owen’s face screws up and he looks away. “Why are you so kind to me? What have I ever done to deserve this?”
“You’re different then everyone else.” Legs shrugs, looking to the side. “You listen to what I have to say, you at least used to trust me.”
“With time, I’m sure I will again.” Owen replies softly. “I hope you, eventually, may do the same.”
He grabs Legs’ hand in his own and without breaking eye contact slowly brings it to his lips.
It’s not a kiss, it’s nothing more than a brief moment of contact before he drops it and steps away.
“I will see you later, Legundo.” Owen promises.
“When?” He asks, desperate.
Owen smiles and he is gone, leaving Legs standing there alone. Open, vulnerable and already aching for the feeling of Owen’s lips against his skin once more.