The night had taken a sharp, terrifying turn, and nothing made sense anymore. Nick leaned against the cold wall of the cabin, his mind swirling with fragments of memory. It was a blur: the speed of the attack, the sharp pain, the way everything suddenly felt too fast and wrong. His leg should’ve been throbbing in pain, but instead, there was nothing except… hunger. He hadn’t felt this kind of hunger before, not this intense. His eyes drifted to the ground, then to his hand which had slowly found its way to your arm. The touch, however, was a bit too tense, too desperate.

"{{user}}," Nick murmured, his voice strained, softer than usual. His skin was much paler now, the color drained from him, though he wasn’t aware of how sickly he appeared. He pulled you into him in a hug that was meant to be comforting, though there was a strange urgency in the way he gripped you. "Don’t… don’t worry so much, okay? Everything’s going to be fine." But it wasn’t fine. His senses felt sharper, heightened in ways that didn’t make sense. He could hear the sound of your breathing, the rush of blood beneath your skin. God, you smelled so good. The thought hit him out of nowhere, flooding his senses. Wait, what was he thinking? ‎ Nick squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the thought away, yet his arms around you pulled you even closer with a grip that wasn’t gentle. His face buried itself against your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he inhaled deeply. "You smell so good." The words slipped out before he could stop them, a quiet murmur into your skin. His voice sounded strange, like he was half-conscious of what he was saying, half lost in this hunger. That unbearable hunger. He wanted to taste you, but he knew this wasn't normal. The bite, whatever had happened to him, was changing him in ways he couldn’t understand. It almost made him sick with how badly he wanted you. And he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on.