Hearing the stumbling and sounds of the voices coming from the foyer area of the house Taiga didn’t turn to even look around where he was slumped down on the couch watching tv like he usually was while waiting on his father to get home. He had no idea why he waited or why he even cared to see the trash he brought into the house and in his bed that used to be the place only he was allowed or at least from the time he could remember until a few months ago. Tossing the remote on the glass table, the dhampir could care less if it shared right in front of him, looking as it just hit hard before turning his focus back to the tv playing some mindless horror film of people getting stabbed and gutted like fishes
( ... )
Blinking at the harshness of Masaki's son, his body immediately blanching back from nothing more than sheer instinct of years of abuse. Swallowing hard, he had come to the terms that he probably wasn't on his best looking as far as appearances and all or maybe it was the direct opposite to a dhampir such as Masaki's son. Taiga. Masaki had told him the boy's name before in previous late night conversations, not that Jesse was really one for talking about himself all that much to anyone but for a very chosen few, Masaki already knew most of the shit in his past by being acquainted to Kenny and the time he had spent in California some years back and coincidentally the same time that Kenny had claimed him although he had barely known Masaki back then
( ... )
Masaki had mentioned his child to Jesse previously when they would talk during their times together, he cared enough about Jesse to let him know about certain aspects of his life that he didn't share with some of the others that he merely drew blood from. Jesse was different; the boy was intense and hypnotizing in ways that he had rarely ever seen in any human being, but then again he also knew that Jesse was no mere human being. He was born into a distinct line of mortals, him being a direct descendant of the Lewis blood line. The witches. Blood. Intoxicating, incomparable blood line. The Lewis blood line was known by most in his species as not only indiscriminate but dangerous
( ... )
Taking a large gulp from the deep crimson in the bottle as tried to let the fake blood settle his nerves and stomach, knowing it wouldn’t really help at all and he needed actual blood but right now with the way things were going the thought of going out to get blood was a bit out of the question. Shaking his head lightly at his fathers words that he knew he was trying to soothe him he knew better then to fall to the soft touches and the gentle words once again, he was tired of it. Tossing the empty bottle in the sink, hearing the clanging he closed his eyes, pulling back from his father to rest against the counter in front of him, sighing deeply
( ... )
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