(Correlates with this SL.)
Millie was having a night out with Ada, and Dae was having a solo night out to himself. Time to think, time to run. Time to hunt. At least, at first that was what it was about. He'd started after a few stragglers, but in the end, what he needed was the chase. Since they'd found out Millie was pregnant, Dae had done his best to give her room to breathe. To decide. He didn't want his wants to influence her decision, so he gave her space. Gave her time.
So there he was, a directionless predator running through the streets, sticking to the shadows. Climbing over fences, scouring from rooftop to rooftop until he could feel the constricting tension in his chest from being winded. It took effort, but he finally reached that high. The wind whipping through his shortened, silky hair. Panting softly through his nose and parted lips as he leaped over the bridge of space from one roof to the other. Landing in a crouch, shoulders hunched and fingers splayed over the cold and snow dusted roof, his boot-covered feet slid with the first exertion of a push to break into a sprint again across the stretch of roof.
The sudden breach of his thoughts, an unfinished cry that sounded like the beginning of his name was cut off abruptly. The pure shock of it rattling in his conscious had him skidding to a stop before he could jump over the lip. His feet slid, weight crashing to the roof as his bare back was shocked by the cold snow. A grunt, then a teeth bared hiss escaped. His eyes had squeezed shut briefly.
What? The initial relay of his own thoughts to the one who'd caught him off guard was a bit more of a growl. Then, Millie? Slanted, hazel eyes opened as dark brows sloped downward. He sat up, tension building across his shoulders that had nothing to do with the cold weather. Millie. More stern, as if demanding a response.
But there was nothing. Only silence in return. His head whipped around as he climbed to his feet. "Fuck," he hissed, not caring to brush away the snow seeping through his jeans. That wasn't what put the cold pit in his stomach, that had him vaulting over the edge of the roof by his hands, left to fall onto a lower level eave, using the softened landing to leap a second time to the cobblestone road.
Whether it was that unfinished cry coming from Millie's mind, or his own intuition, he knew it. Something is wrong. And he was on the run.
Millie was having a night out with Ada, and Dae was having a solo night out to himself. Time to think, time to run. Time to hunt. At least, at first that was what it was about. He'd started after a few stragglers, but in the end, what he needed was the chase. Since they'd found out Millie was pregnant, Dae had done his best to give her room to breathe. To decide. He didn't want his wants to influence her decision, so he gave her space. Gave her time.
So there he was, a directionless predator running through the streets, sticking to the shadows. Climbing over fences, scouring from rooftop to rooftop until he could feel the constricting tension in his chest from being winded. It took effort, but he finally reached that high. The wind whipping through his shortened, silky hair. Panting softly through his nose and parted lips as he leaped over the bridge of space from one roof to the other. Landing in a crouch, shoulders hunched and fingers splayed over the cold and snow dusted roof, his boot-covered feet slid with the first exertion of a push to break into a sprint again across the stretch of roof.
The sudden breach of his thoughts, an unfinished cry that sounded like the beginning of his name was cut off abruptly. The pure shock of it rattling in his conscious had him skidding to a stop before he could jump over the lip. His feet slid, weight crashing to the roof as his bare back was shocked by the cold snow. A grunt, then a teeth bared hiss escaped. His eyes had squeezed shut briefly.
What? The initial relay of his own thoughts to the one who'd caught him off guard was a bit more of a growl. Then, Millie? Slanted, hazel eyes opened as dark brows sloped downward. He sat up, tension building across his shoulders that had nothing to do with the cold weather. Millie. More stern, as if demanding a response.
But there was nothing. Only silence in return. His head whipped around as he climbed to his feet. "Fuck," he hissed, not caring to brush away the snow seeping through his jeans. That wasn't what put the cold pit in his stomach, that had him vaulting over the edge of the roof by his hands, left to fall onto a lower level eave, using the softened landing to leap a second time to the cobblestone road.
Whether it was that unfinished cry coming from Millie's mind, or his own intuition, he knew it. Something is wrong. And he was on the run.