You’re lounging about within your squad’s quarters, on a week long break to fight off Scales, the Vampire equivalent of Chicken Pox.

You spend the day in and out of sleep, itching at the hard spots formed on your skin because of it.

When you wake up properly, it’s night, completely dark outside. Blake is at your bedside, his hand stroking your arm. “Morning.”

His voice is soft, yet it still grates your ears from the headache that ebbs in and out. “I need my jacket back, love.”

You had in fact, stolen his jacket while he’d been out with his squad, curling up with it, breathing in his salty scent. Salty like the ocean. “I’m on night shift, love. I need my jacket.”