Purple haze clouded my mind, taking away the ability to form coherent thoughts. All on my own, I tugged open JJ's button-up shirt, sent my hands exploring the planes of his chest. There was some hair there, just as golden and curly as on his head. There were scars, too, old and speaking about a history of violence. But vampires didn't scar. Only humans.
Somehow, that observation made the moment stand out sharper, more real. He was real, my helper, my guardian, my vampire, with all his charm and mysteries, with his history, with everything he said and didn't say, with everything he felt and didn't feel.
