English is not my native language, but I hope, it will be enjoyable. ^-^ (It's not beta'd so please point out some significant or careless mistakes if there are some. I tried my best but sometimes it's not enough. ^-^")
TASTE OF LOVE
The smell of blood is rich and thick. Attractive.
He wants to taste it, lick it, drink it. He wants to take a bite and crush the shattered body even more. Heal him. Claim him.
But something will not let him. The monster growls angrily, his voice deep and demanding, but his claws − the claws that usually so easily torn in the flesh, as a hot knife cuts through butter − just gently stroking. His neck, his face… every inch of the shattered body. He presses his muzzle to the warm skin and sniffs, snarl with retracted gums.
Wounds. Everywhere wounds.
Doctor… He has to take the boy to hospital, somewhere behind the animalistic instinct there rumbles recognition.
But if he takes away the boy… Then he won't be his again.
It's fine. He will claim him. Keep him.
He doesn't need a doctor.
He will save him and keep him.
The heart beats are weak and slow, skipping a beat or two. Like the soft, shortness of breath. It's stop… Then return. The blood trickles lazily on, scarlet paint on the autumn leaves.
He is dying.
Help… He needs help.
No, he does not need.
He can solve.
He will claim him.
He will hold him close. Somewhere he can reach him anytime.
Sharp teeth flash in the moonlight when he presses his nose again to the boy's soft skin, where his neck meets his shoulder. There is so much blood… Too much. He almost can't smell the sweet scent that is so he. It's pure and innocent; the scent of a human.
The beast wants to besmirch him. Bite him. Claim him. Love him.
He wants to own him. Forever.
The blood is throbbing under the soft skin, trapped in the artery.
Salty. The taste of love is salty. He already knows.