[does aloe vera work on vampires? that's a good question. a question for science, magic, and everything in between. kavinsky probably would have laughed if kurt had asked out loud, and if he hadn't been so battered and injured by the chemical reaction of sunrise's glare and his own undead flesh that he can barely think to himself the name for this experience, the single word, the concept
—pain-—
never mind parse a joke.
dimly, he understands they are somewhere safe now. he knows because the pain doesn't get worse, or at least, it doesn't get worse at a rate that means he's getting worse. the funny thing about pain is that it gets worse when you think about it, and when you're sad, and when you're scared, and when you're hungry, and he's all of those things mashed into one. his ruined skin is already seeping out onto the jacket that kurt had flung over him, and bits of him are leaking onto the bedspread, probably. but he isn't dying anymore, and he won't die now, barring a tree falling in.
he cries anyway, of course. whinging and gaspy and pathetic and painfully young. his shoulders seem uncharacteristically small in kurt's hands-- he always holds himself up so big and arrogant, you know. pretending.
he makes a sound that might be thank you, his eyes blinking, burnt-blind in the dark. somewhere far away, his daemon is running back to the city, howling in fear.]
MY SWEET PRINCCEEEE
dimly, he understands they are somewhere safe now. he knows because the pain doesn't get worse, or at least, it doesn't get worse at a rate that means he's getting worse. the funny thing about pain is that it gets worse when you think about it, and when you're sad, and when you're scared, and when you're hungry, and he's all of those things mashed into one. his ruined skin is already seeping out onto the jacket that kurt had flung over him, and bits of him are leaking onto the bedspread, probably. but he isn't dying anymore, and he won't die now, barring a tree falling in.
he cries anyway, of course. whinging and gaspy and pathetic and painfully young. his shoulders seem uncharacteristically small in kurt's hands-- he always holds himself up so big and arrogant, you know. pretending.
he makes a sound that might be thank you, his eyes blinking, burnt-blind in the dark. somewhere far away, his daemon is running back to the city, howling in fear.]