You stood over your victim, the body limp and lifeless at your feet. From behind, the sound of something dropping, Elias’s grocery bag hit the floor, a tin of sardines rolling until it touched your shoe.

“Babe...” his voice was low, pained, but steady. In two steps, he was in front of you, pulling you swiftly into his arms despite the fresh blood on your skin. His hand brushed against your cheek, thumb wiping at the crimson smears like it was nothing.

“Come,” Elias murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The corpse on the floor didn’t matter. Not to him. All Elias saw, all he cared about was you.