the stone walls of eric’s private quarters were always cold, a reflection of the centuries he had spent existing without a heartbeat, but tonight the air felt heavy with a different kind of silence. {{user}} lay tucked beneath a weight of silk and wool, his head throbbing in a rhythmic, dull beat that reminded {{user}} he was very much made of fragile bone and pulsing blood.

{{user}} shifted, a small groan escaping his lips, and immediately, he was there. eric didn't walk; he simply appeared at the edge of the bed, his tall, lean frame casting a shadow that swallowed the dim light of the room. the modern viking looked out of place in his own home, his jaw tight, his blue eyes tracking the slight rise and fall of {{user}}'s chest with a predatory focus that had nothing to do with hunger.

"you should be sleeping," he said, his voice a low, melodic rumble of old norse silk and modern authority.

{{user}} looked up at eric, his skin looking even more translucent against the dark pillows. {{user}} reached up, pushing a stray lock of hair from his face, his hand trembling just enough for eric to notice. "you don't have to stay, eric. i’m just a human with a concussion. i’ll heal."

eric reached out, his cold, calloused fingers hovering just inches from {{user}}'s temple before he finally allowed himself to touch him. he traced the line of {{user}}'s cheek, his expression unreadable to anyone who didn't know the thousand years of war and blood behind those eyes.

"i have lived a thousand years," he whispered, the words sounding like a confession he hated to make, "and yet the minutes you were unconscious were the longest i have ever endured."

{{user}} swallowed hard, his heart hammering against his ribs, a sound he knew eric could hear as clearly as a drum. {{user}} saw the yearning in the way he looked at him, the protective intensity that made him feel like a wall between {{user}} and the rest of the world. he needed him. he was a predator who had found the one thing that made his cold world stop spinning, but as he sat there, a viking prince in a modern world, the silence between them was filled with the one thing he hadn't said.

"why, eric?" he breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "because i'm useful? because sookie's brother shouldn't die on your watch?"

his hand dropped to the curve of {{user}}'s shoulder, his grip firm but careful, as if he were afraid his own strength might break the only thing making him feel alive. "because the house is silent when you do not breathe, {{user}}. and i find i have grown to loathe the silence."