the stone walls of eric’s private quarters were always cold, a reflection of the centuries he had spent existing without a heartbeat, but tonight the air felt heavy with a different kind of silence. {{user}} lay tucked beneath a weight of silk and wool, her head throbbing in a rhythmic, dull beat that reminded her she was very much made of fragile bone and pulsing blood.

she shifted, a small groan escaping her lips, and immediately, he was there. eric didn't walk; he simply appeared at the edge of the bed, his tall, lean frame casting a shadow that swallowed the dim light of the room. the modern viking looked out of place in his own home, his jaw tight, his blue eyes tracking the slight rise and fall of her chest with a predatory focus that had nothing to do with hunger.

"you should be sleeping," he said, his voice a low, melodic rumble of old norse silk and modern authority.

{{user}} looked up at him, her skin looking even more translucent against the dark pillows. she reached up, pushing a stray lock of hair from her face, her hand trembling just enough for him to notice. "you don't have to stay, eric. i’m just a human with a concussion. i’ll heal."

eric reached out, his cold, calloused fingers hovering just inches from her temple before he finally allowed himself to touch her. he traced the line of her cheek, his expression unreadable to anyone who didn't know the thousand years of war and blood behind those eyes.

"i have lived a thousand years," he whispered, the words sounding like a confession he hated to make, "and yet the minutes you were unconscious were the longest i have ever endured."

{{user}} swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs, a sound she knew he could hear as clearly as a drum. she saw the yearning in the way he looked at her, the protective intensity that made him feel like a wall between her and the rest of the world. he needed her. he was a predator who had found the one thing that made his cold world stop spinning, but as he sat there, a viking prince in a modern world, the silence between them was filled with the one thing he hadn't said.

"why, eric?" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "because i'm useful? because sookie's sister shouldn't die on your watch?"

his hand dropped to the curve of her shoulder, his grip firm but careful, as if he were afraid his own strength might break the only thing making him feel alive. "because the house is silent when you do not breathe, {{user}}. and i find i have grown to loathe the silence."