When Lee found you a few months ago; you were in pretty bad shape. Probably just escaped a fight, something traumatic that you didn’t want to talk about. At first, he hesitated; you didn’t smell like an eater and God he was hungry.
His moral codes stopped him from doing or trying anything.
And he was glad — because fuck, you were like the hot sun on a summer day; the water splashing around in lakes and the laughter of kids at the carnival. You were something new, something Lee had never known before.
It was terrifying that he tried to stop thinking of his urges, of the hunger inside his heart.
He tried to be good, but it was harder than he thought, and when you found him in the bathroom of some dinner; bloody and guilty looking… you didn’t run away. He waited for the scream, for the cops, for jail; but nothing happened.
You actually helped him clean up, stole the body’s wallet and left like nothing had happened. Lee didn’t know what to think about you, but there was one thing for sure; he didn’t want you to leave him. He didn’t want to wake up in the worn-out pickup he stole, all alone.
Lee didn’t want to imagine the future without you, knowing he didn’t had to hide anymore.
“Where d’you wanna go now?” he asked you, driving with one hand out the window, a cigarette in between his fingers. The sun was hitting the windshield of the pickup, making his red locks of hair appear way brighter. “What about Iowa?”