She's sat on the ground, in the middle of a pool of her own blood. Her hands are pressing on her neck, and she's shivering at every sound or quick move.
I can't stand to look at her like this. Who was it? Why?
Who dared to hurt my girl?
«S-sorry,» she stutters, her eyes full of tears and her lips crooked in pain.
I realise that I must look horrible. The fangs are pricking my lips, my pupils are shrunk, and my irises dark. My muscles are stiff with fury.
I look the opposite of how I should. I won't comfort anyone if I don't regain some control back.
I don't want to hurt her, not even one bit. But I can't blame her for thinking it. No matter how deep I breathe, my appearance doesn't change.
«Julia,» I whisper, crouching down in front of her.
I don't have time to waste now. I have to close that wound before she bleeds out. At any cost.
Her eyes are full of panic and tears, and she winces back when I stretch out my arm.
