[ As far as ways to die go, it could be worse. Billy's gentleness wrings another sob from him and Eddie, ever the coward, lets him do as he pleases. It's not as though he could fight him off. It's not as though he could run.
Billy kisses him like he's something precious, with energy he can't muster up in turn. He's cold and Eddie is burning up, the most he can do is lift a hand to clutch at the back of his dirty jacket. Holding on for dear life, gasping as teeth pierce his lip and a cold tongue chases the hot trail. Barely registers the pain of his throat being bitten, just tenses and moans in a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.
And bit by bit, the pain ebbs away. Slowly the hands clutching Billy begin to go limp. Those big brown eyes start to lose focus, gaze becoming distant before finally shutting as his heart begins to slow, slow, slow and stop. The cold sets in and Eddie is gone.
Not everyone gets back up. So many simply lay down and die. Emptied of everything they were when their flesh perishes.
And for a while, it looks as though that may be the case. Eddie doesn't stir. He's pale and bloodless against the ruined bedsheets, his curls a disheveled mess, tear tracks cutting lines through the filth covering his cheeks.
And then it happens. He jerks. Fists clenching the fabric underneath him as the emptiness in his veins begins to burn. He's screaming before he even opens his eyes, the sound raw and agonized. Nerves and neurons firing back on, all wrong, stalled functions starting again. It's awful, unlike the sweet release Billy had given him hours before. The pain of his body dying has nothing on this. ]
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Billy kisses him like he's something precious, with energy he can't muster up in turn. He's cold and Eddie is burning up, the most he can do is lift a hand to clutch at the back of his dirty jacket. Holding on for dear life, gasping as teeth pierce his lip and a cold tongue chases the hot trail. Barely registers the pain of his throat being bitten, just tenses and moans in a sweet mix of pleasure and pain.
And bit by bit, the pain ebbs away. Slowly the hands clutching Billy begin to go limp. Those big brown eyes start to lose focus, gaze becoming distant before finally shutting as his heart begins to slow, slow, slow and stop. The cold sets in and Eddie is gone.
Not everyone gets back up. So many simply lay down and die. Emptied of everything they were when their flesh perishes.
And for a while, it looks as though that may be the case. Eddie doesn't stir. He's pale and bloodless against the ruined bedsheets, his curls a disheveled mess, tear tracks cutting lines through the filth covering his cheeks.
And then it happens. He jerks. Fists clenching the fabric underneath him as the emptiness in his veins begins to burn. He's screaming before he even opens his eyes, the sound raw and agonized. Nerves and neurons firing back on, all wrong, stalled functions starting again. It's awful, unlike the sweet release Billy had given him hours before. The pain of his body dying has nothing on this. ]