The Ripper

William Jack Holloway

If there was one thing that William was positive of as the witch returned to the bed, it was that she was entirely too far away. Now that his wounds were bandaged and his form beginning to rest, his body was gaining strength. He was still too spent to sit up all the way. Still, he managed to move himself closer towards her. It was enough for him to reach her, though he stopped himself from actually touching her exposed skin at her tensed form. How he wanted to let his fingertips explore every inch of her body, and yet he couldn't bring himself to actually touch her. Instead, he settled for the touch of her hand in his. It wasn't nearly enough, and yet the man would settle for that simple touch as long as it was a touch. The laugh that escaped the beautiful girl caused the man to tilt his head, though he couldn't deny the smile that appeared on his features at her words. "Kitten it is then, Vhalla," He murmured as she settled in beside him.

William reached out gently to rest his hand on the curve of her hip, his head tilting into her fingers. "But I would rather kiss you than heal," He grumbled as she wiggled even further away from his touch. He dropped his hand to rest between them, content for now just to be close to her. It is her command that saw that familiar smirk tugging at his features. "Is that an order, kitten?" He chuckled as his fingertips moved to find her hand. It was so funny that after nearly two centuries of having nearly no touch, he was growing so rapidly used to hers. A blush managed to creep its way onto his features as she questioned him. "I was thinking about you," He said honestly. He didn't elaborate. He didn't want her to know about how deeply lost in thought he had been, or that he had been practically aching to see her. Clearing his throat, he spoke once again. "The Hunter had a power. He produced this ear-splitting noise and it caught me off guard. I could have gotten free," He sighed softly. "But I would have had to use my powers."

He was glad, then, when she brought the conversation back to her own powers, even if her words gnawed at his stomach and made him frown. "Fire suits you," He murmured, reaching the distance to cup her face in his hand. His thumb traced so gently over that bruised skin as he drew her gaze back to his. "We can be messes together, huh?" He whispered. He had no intentions of running from the witch, even despite the horrors she had caused or the tragedies that she had seen. "I'm so sorry about your parents." He wanted to kiss her, and yet the distance was still entirely too much for the wounded man to cross. "I have no doubt that you will master your powers one day..."

He trailed off as the woman spoke. "Vhalla I..." The idea of taking her bed was too much for the gentleman. She should be the one sleeping comfortably. "I can take the floor. Or the couch. Anywhere I..." If the man was being entirely true, he would sleep best with her right beside him. Even though he'd never once shared a bed with a woman, he wouldn't deny that he wanted Vhalla within his arms. He let out a soft exhale as her fingers touched his face, his frame leaning into that kiss. It was too short, and the whine that left his lips as she pulled back was accompanied by a pout forming on his features. He watched as she sat up. That smile she offered him was matched by a happy one of his own.

He reached out then, his arms snaking around the woman's waist as he pulled her backwards onto the bed. He ignored the pain in his back that flared up with the movement. It was all too worth it to bring the girl back down to the bed. He wasted no time in moving to settle her against him. "You'll sleep here," He murmured as he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "This bed is big enough for both of us, I think." He nuzzled his nose into her hair, his own eyes fluttering shut as his body relaxed. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well."

But darling -- it's only human nature.