Dog Fights

Chapter 13; Damaged

Leon lets out a deep breath, pulling up his jacket collar in the bathroom mirror in an effort to hide the blooming bruises on his neck. Ezra kept his promise and didn't leave any new fang prints, but that doesn't mean he didn't mask the pain of paper cut like scrapes beneath kisses that left bruises themselves. They blended in beneath the other ones anyway.

"How hard do you think your dad will stab me when I go downstairs with you?" Ezra asks, making Leon jump hard with the lack of the vampire's reflection as a warning to the hand on his back.

Leon laughs, having to turn his head to get a view of the older. He had given him clothes to borrow, as his others were dirty and scratchy with dried holy water and blood.

"Do they fit?" Leon asks, turning his body to face Ezra and fix his shirt. "I know you prefer pastel- I tried to find my best ones."

"They're fine," Ezra says, looking down at himself. He had been given a long sleeve to hide his scarred and irritated arms, a soft green with a solid black circle in the center. A winky face sits in the center, colored the same pastel green. The shorts Leon gave him were similar to the ones he had before, but these had a little rose patch sewn on one of the back pockets.

Leon turns back to the mirror, sighing again and pulling up his collar as high as it'll reach. There's no way to hide any of these bruises.

"I don't think they won't notice," Ezra murmurs, smoothing down Leon's wild hair the best he can. It defies his shaky hand, only appearing to shiver in the mirror without his reflection.

"I know," Leon sighs, finally pulling his eyes away from the mirror and turning to leave the bathroom. Ezra follows him out, flipping off the light and trailing behind him down the stairs. The heat of embarrassment practically radiates off of Leon's figure, making his visible skin flush pink even in the shadows of the staircase.

"Relax," Ezra whispers, "looking tense just makes you look worse off. And remember- silverware won't hurt me unless it's actually silver."

"That's the thing though," Leon murmurs over his shoulder, pausing before they turn the corner into the living room, "I think we have some."

Ezra makes a face, earning a sheepish smile before he's lead out into the living room. Neither of his parents are to be found, only deep brown furniture and a black TV.

"They're in the kitchen," Leon says, taking a breath, "I think my dad is making breakfast."

"I smell chemicals," Ezra makes a face, feeling his throat threaten to burn. The closer they get to the kitchen the more obnoxious and sharp the smell becomes.

Leon frowns, looking over to the vampire. "My mom must be doing her nails- she works at a salon in the city. I forget vampires have sensitive noses."

Ezra puts the side of his hand to his nose, blocking out the smell that bombards his head. Sensitive is an understatement.

"Wait here," Leon says apologetically, taking a deep breath before slipping through the doorway to the kitchen Ezra couldn't quite see into. It's silent for a moment after Leon murmurs to his mother, receiving a quiet response before his father pipes up.

"I bet he just doesn't want to come in here and see us," the man comments sourly, not rough but with a sense of hostility, "look at what he did to you. The hunter might as well have got you."

"Dad!" Leon's voice hisses, clearly not wanting Ezra to hear what he had commented. The vampire just waits.

"Joshua," Leon's mother warns, trying to defend Ezra without knowing he was listening, "you better be nice to him."