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“I smelled blood. You were hurt." And then, with a hesitation in his voice I had never heard from him before: "I... don't like the idea of you being hurt." My heart hammered in my rib cage at the reluctant admission. He'd been about to rip that kid's head off. All because he thought I might have been injured. How was I supposed to process this? It had been a wild, indefensible reaction to a negligible injury. So why did I find his going feral like that one of the hottest things I'd ever experienced? If he'd reacted like this when I'd barely hurt myself, what might he do if I were really threatened?” — Jenna Levine
I smelled blood. You were hurt." And then, with a hesitation in his voice I had never heard from him before: "I... don't like the idea of you being hurt."
My heart hammered in my rib cage at the reluctant admission. He'd been about to rip that kid's head off. All because he thought I might have been injured.
How was I supposed to process this?
It had been a wild, indefensible reaction to a negligible injury. So why did I find his going feral like that one of the hottest things I'd ever experienced?
If he'd reacted like this when I'd barely hurt myself, what might he do if I were really threatened?