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H arlow eyed Foxx as he stepped out of the bathroom. The vampire was in a set of pink fuzzy pajamas with blue cupcakes on them, relaxing back on the bed, partly under the covers, looking at his phone.

The room the witch had given them was small but nice enough. He even semi liked the green walls and wood paneling and trim. Harlow could have done without the dusty-pink carpet and pink rose bedspread that seemed to match it though.

Slipping into bed, he pulled the vampire against his chest, eyeing the photo currently on the man’s screen. It looked to be a photograph of Charity and a little girl. “That the niece? She looks like a mini Charity.”

Foxx rolled over, looking up at him with a sad smile. “Mm…she does… I hope…” The vampire swallowed hard. “I hope she ends up with nice people, but…”

Harlow didn’t finish for him when the man trailed off, even though he could. He knew the system well enough to know that, while not always, too many times the people children were sent to live with weren’t worth a damn.

Foxx snuggled against his chest. “I miss her… I wish…that I had called her more…and texted her back faster, and just…more. I told you that…we’d texted. And we did, just about silly things. I sent her recipes, and showed her my new sunsuits and sweaters. And she’d send me things back, like her nails, or her new power suits.” The vampire ch uckled softly. “She always liked to dress sharp, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, she did.”

Foxx sniffled before groaning. “Ugh, I need to stop being so weepy.”

“It’s fine, you can be as weepy as you want.”

“You don’t like it.”

He pulled him closer, his arms coming fully around him as he sighed. “Foxx, let yourself feel what you feel. My discomfort has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with my failure to actually know how to deal with said emotions. I don’t matter in this equation.”

“You do matter,” Foxx said, before pressing his face flush against his chest and mumbling, “You’re my boyfriend.”

Harlow smiled. “I am. But I also don’t have all of the emotions you have. And just because I don’t, doesn’t mean you should try to hide them from me. I’d rather know what you are really feeling and be uncomfortable as fuck, than you bottle them up and have a meltdown on me, and panic while you freak out.”

Foxx giggled softly. “Make you panic, do I?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you do, Brat.”

The man rubbed his face against him, going quiet for a few moments, before saying, “Harlow…?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you…for not dying.”

Harlow frowned. “Don’t think I’ve come close yet…”

“There were a few times…you could have.”

“Don’t think about it. Besides, I’m even less likely to die now that I’m fully what I am. Unless Daydric kills me for losing my shit again, that is.”

Foxx whined, “He won’t!”

Smiling, he kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head. “Go to sleep, Brat.”

“Mm,” the vampire grunted. Head turning to the side on Harlow’s chest, the man’s eyes were already closed as he let out a tired sounding sigh.

Gently, he tugged Foxx’s phone from the vampire’s hand when the man started to softly snore. Harlow set it on the nightstand, but found his eyes lingering on the screen, and the picture that still showed there.

The system could really be unpredictable, but…Harlow did have a few connections, and even some strings he could attempt to pull.

His gaze flicked to Foxx when the screen went dark. Couldn’t hurt to try, right?

Iggy stared on tiredly as Maverick slammed the phone in his hand against the wall again and again, until it was just pieces on the ground. “FUCKING USELESS MORONS!”

The other human let out a few heaving breaths, leaning there against the wall, before turning to him sharply, his eyes looking more than crazy.

“You understand, right?”

He didn’t answer, and he hadn’t in a few days. It was hard to twist what he said if he didn’t speak.

“I know you do.” Iggy didn’t even flinch when Maverick once again invaded his personal space and ran his hand over his hair. “It looks so much better without that stupid spell. So pure… Your true self. This was always who you were. This bright, angelic creature. This is who you will always be.” He closed his eyes, holding back his wince as the man roughly yanked his head back.

“You are MINE, Ignatius! Not Tony’s, not the Guild’s, MINE. You were always meant to be guided by me, don’t you see? You don’t know it yet, and you still refuse to listen, but you will!”

He didn’t respond. It wasn’t the first time the man had said that shit to him, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. It had shocked him at first, but now he barely blinked at the words.

Iggy couldn’t help but assume that as the man’s violence grew—which it seemed to each day—his death would eventually come with it. Which was fine. He’d sort of accepted already that he’d likely die before anyone found him. He just wished he had a chance to say goodbye.

And he just…hoped someone was with Tony…with his dad when he found out… The man was getting up there… Wasn’t this too much stress at his age?

Lately, Iggy had kind of…well, more stupidly, he'd been hoping that a miracle would happen and the man would retire and just relax, instead of trying to hold the weight of the stupid fucking world on his shoulders. Well, that and…praying to whoever the fuck was up there that he’d divorce his current wife.

Hell, he hated her. Ugh, it sort of sucked donkey balls that Iggy dying would likely make the raging, two-faced, money-hungry bitch happy.