Sorey awoke, disoriented, in a bed that was most certainly not his own, in a room that was most certainly not his own. (Though he would have loved to ask its owner some questions about the gothic architecture.) He pressed a hand to his throbbing temple, trying to process what had happened.

He'd been called to a local town for a job. Vampire activity in the area, they were sure of it; the townspeople had contacted the Hunter's Guild with all the money they could spare. Gramps had taken ages reading that letter, taking long, thoughtful puffs of his pipe. Then, he'd told Sorey to pack his things and head out. Sorey was baffled – he had barely completed his training, and had only been an assistant on hunts in the past. Surely Gramps would have preferred to send their top hunter Rose, or even his fellow graduate Alisha?

But no, Gramps was firm – this was a mission that only Sorey would be permitted to complete. Sorey, the foundling Gramps had taken in as a baby; Sorey, the lost little boy who'd begged Gramps to teach him the ways of hunting after his best friend was stolen away by vampires in front of his eyes. Sorey, who despite everything, could still not bear to deliver judgement to the beasts that preyed on humans.

He'd left the guild headquarters, and had been caught in a storm…he'd taken shelter in a nearby forest cave, too far off the path…then, then the ground fell out from under his feet…

Sorey shook his head, finally putting things together. He'd gotten caught in a net trap, probably walloped his head on the way up. It was obvious: whoever set the trap probably found him, and brought him here. And…had undressed him, leaving him naked in bed as his hunter's cloak and garments lay hanging in front of the fireplace to dry. Sorey covered himself a bit more with the blankets, flushing down to his chest. Well, he'd be sure to thank them for the hospitality, and ask their forgiveness in ruining their day's trapping work.

He heard footsteps approaching in the hall, and a hand on the doorknob—

"Boo."

This was a dream. Sorey had plenty of these before – dreams where Mikleo was alive and by his side again, as beautiful as he was the day he was stolen away. Sorey had even had dreams that included the naked in bed factor. But oh, this was a dream Sorey could not bear, a dream where Mikleo was so deathly pale, with stark white hair and the scent of blood about him. His hunter's training told him plainly what he was seeing: a demon in human form, hiding its deadly intent behind breathtaking beauty.

Gramps had always despaired at Sorey's own lack of deadly intent. Sorey would only be disappointing him more today.

Sorey stared at Mikleo as he set the platter he was carrying on the stone floor, and slid it over to him; taking care not to draw too close. The platter was stacked with a pile of unidentified meat, steaming and fresh from the oven; accompanying it was a jug of water and…fresh creamy pudding with wild berries. Oh, Mikleo. It's you, it's really you.

Sorey's stomach growled, and he looked at the meat with hesitancy and naked hunger. Mikleo smiled tightly.

"Venison. I'm not much for catching humans. They're usually not stupid enough to fall for my traps."

Sorey's heart begged him to forsake the meal before him and fling his arms around Mikleo's tiny body, to bare his neck to him and beg for an end to this agony. Sorey's stomach vetoed this course of action, and he hungrily dived out of bed and seized a piece of meat to stuff whole into his mouth. Mikleo turned to face the fire as he ate. The firelight danced across his alabaster skin, making him look almost – almost—

But he was alive, wasn't he? He was here, back by Sorey's side. And he could have so easily killed him as Sorey hung unconscious in the trap, soaked through by rain. He could have simply left him to freeze, but he'd brought him into his home, brought him food, brought him to his bed…

Sorey swallowed and looked down. The sheet had not followed with him much when he dived off the bed, and what was still on him was wrapped rather loosely around his waist. It was clear Mikleo had turned to the fire to spare him his dignity. As if he had any of that left after all this.

Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, Sorey picked up his platter and crept closer to Mikleo. Mikleo's eyes locked on to him as he approached, his entire body stiffening. As he drew closer and closer, Sorey could see Mikleo's fingers clutched into his tunic, white and slender and trembling in fear.

Sorey sat next to him, setting the platter between them. His plate picked clean of meat, he picked up the berry pudding.

"We always shared dessert, didn't we?" Sorey asked, softly.

Sorey reached out for Mikleo's hand. Mikleo shied away. Sorey gave a crooked, hurt little smile.

"I understand. But I don't know many vampires that would be scared of a naked hunter that gets caught in a deer trap."

Ah, there – he could detect a smile tugging at the sides of Mikleo's mouth.

It was a start.