the humid louisiana air felt like a physical weight against {{user}}'s skin as she sat on the sagging porch swing of the stackhouse home. the cicadas were screaming in the trees, a frantic backdrop to the silence she had been trying to cultivate all evening. it had been three nights since the silver-tipped arrows of the fellowship had nearly ended her, and three nights since the copper-tang of eric northman’s blood had slid down her throat to heal the damage.

now, she wasn't just sookie's sister; she was a tether.

she closed her eyes, trying to block out the sudden, cold thrum of longing that didn't belong to her. it was ancient and vast, like a frozen sea, and it was moving through the tall grass toward her.

"go away, eric," {{user}} whispered, her voice barely catching over the rhythmic creak of the swing. she leaned her head into her hands, feeling the pull in the center of her chest tighten. "i can feel your hunger. it’s... loud."

the shadows beneath the moss-draped oak tree shifted. eric stepped into the pale wash of the moonlight, looking disturbingly human in a simple dark shirt that stretched across his broad, warrior's shoulders. his blue eyes were two chips of ice, reflecting a thousand years of things she couldn't begin to understand, yet his presence felt like a grounding wire to her restless soul.

"it isn't hunger, {{user}}. not for blood," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble that vibrated deep in her chest, bypasssing her ears entirely.

{{user}} gripped the chains of the swing, her knuckles white. she felt the sudden, sharp spike of his focus on her. on the curve of her waist, the weight of her legs, the way her breath hitched in the heat. it wasn't the predatory gaze she’d seen him level at tourists at fangtasia; it was something heavier. something that felt like a debt that could never be paid.

"then what is it?" she asked, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.

eric took a step closer, his movements fluid and silent, until he was standing at the base of the porch steps. he looked up at her, the arrogant sheriff of area 5 replaced by a man who seemed to find the very air around her more vital than the power he spent centuries amassing.

"it is a restlessness i haven't felt in two centuries," he admitted, his gaze never wavering from hers. "and it only settles when i am standing exactly where i am right now."