Hunter was used to being liked. For Shawn it was a novelty, and one he still wasn't used to. He didn't really fathom why this young city kid seemed to be carrying a torch for him. And it was such a precious, fragile responsibility, to try and keep that flame burning. Shawn felt sure he could extinguish it permanently with every snap and snarl, each drunken rant, each intoxicated slur.

But still he stayed, and it was beginning to fill Shawn with fear.

Because if someone had that much unwarranted faith in him, if they liked him despite his flaws, he was either going to have to confront his demons, or watch Hunter crash and burn with him when they consumed him whole, black hands of narcissism grasping, teeth of self doubt devouring.

He'd have to try and change.