He shouldn’t have helped you- he really shouldn’t have, not when he was this hungry and hadn’t drank blood in months…

but he’d helped you, and he’d fought back his urge to drink from you as he helped you get inside his home and into a bed. He’d found you passed out outside in the rain, soaked and unresponsive- and now you were wrapped in blankets in a large bed to keep you dry and warm, while Jean kept his distance. It was for the best- he was dangerous, and he was unpredictable.