Fandom Imagines and Preferences IV

John Mitchell- Blood Lust (c)

Being Human UK One Shot

"Fuck!"

You jumped back from the freshly shattered glass, attempting to avoid injury and the loud noise startling you. You had offered to get your boyfriend Mitchell a bottle of beer, but without thinking too clearly, you had lost your grip on the bottle. Now it lay shattered and spilled across the kitchen floor. You let out a sigh as you bent over to grab the largest pieces of glass before you could wipe up the spilled liquid and try to remove all of the tiny shards that were there.

As you grabbed the largest piece of glass you instantly regretted it. You didn't grab the glass firmly on the smooth sides, rather letting the sharp edge slice into your palm, your blood seeping from your skin and spilling into the mess on the floor. A loud incoherent noise escaped you from a mixture of pain and annoyance at your own stupidity. Dropping the glass back onto the floor, you made your way to the sink, not wanting to spread your blood everywhere, although it was a little too late.

"Are you okay?" You heard from the doorway.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your boyfriend Mitchell stood there with a concerned expression on his face, clearly having heard you swear and scream.

"I'm fine," you grunted, as the water from the tap hit your newly formed wound to wash out any shards of glass that may have made their way into your cut.

"Are you..." He trailed off.

Not wanting to stop focusing on your hand, you hesitantly looked back over to him, realising things were far worse than just a cut on your palm.

Mitchell's eyes had become almost black, as his breathing fell shallow and animalistic.

"Mitchell!" You shouted, hoping to knock him out of the trance like state he had fallen into.

Luckily it worked. Dating a vampire certainly had its drawbacks; he struggled a lot around blood, struggling to fight the innate bloodlust that he tried so hard to ignore and overcome on a daily basis. You trusted him to not hurt you but if he was overcome by instinct, you feared what would happen, not only for yourself but the consequences and pain it would then cause to him.

"I...I," he whispered, trying his best to keep control.

"Go get some air," you hissed, not wishing to be harsh but still in a fair bit of pain. "I'll be fine."

He hesitated, wanting to help you but knowing there wasn't anyway to help, and he would end up hindering you if anything.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he croaked as he fled the room, leaving you to try your best to patch up your hand so that you could return to him and reassure him that all would be okay.

~*~

Written by Charlotte.