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“I’m not scared of you,” John whispered into the crook of Sherlock’s neck, his grip tightening as Sherlock started to shudder. “Do you hear me? I’ve seen monsters, Sherlock. I’ve seen the worst things human beings can do to each other. You? You’re just my idiot friend who’s had a very bad night.”
“John... the smell... I can’t…” Sherlock’s voice was a ragged plea. He buried his face in John’s shoulder, his hands clenching into the wool of John’s jumper. He was fighting the urge to bare his teeth, fighting the hunger that roared at the proximity of John’s jugular.or
Vampires weren’t real. They were nothing more than a foolish myth - stories people told themselves to make sense of the truth they were too afraid to face: that some humans were simply monsters.
And yet… the long, pale fangs pressing into Sherlock’s lower lip told an entirely different story.