The very being that had taken firm hold of his heart, despite their many differences.
Despite the fact that everything told them it was wrong.
How could love be wrong?
It made him feel so alive…
Feather in hand, Flynn fell back on the bed, twisting the feather between two fingers. Despite the fact he’d just fed, he could already feel a familiar ache stirring to life in his chest. It was not the need to feed again so soon, a mistake he had made a few times before back in the beginning. No, he now understood perfectly that it meant he was experiencing the touch of a broken heart. No, that was wrong, not broken, more like aching, yearning, a burning desire to be with the one he truly wanted. To feel the touch of the man who knew how to set him on fire from head to toe. To be engulfed in arms that brought with them new sensations.
A sense of peace.