“Why did you become a Vampire Hunter?” Rowan asked as he harvested some berries, Alaric at his back so they didn’t have a repeat of yesterday. Albeit, Rowan didn’t have a choice in the matter. He insisted that he was fine and that Alaric should just continue searching for plants to harvest, but Alaric stood his ground and didn’t move from the position he was currently in. Rowan wanted to be more humiliated than he actually was. It felt… oddly nice to have someone want to protect him. 

“I thought we weren’t talking?” Alaric retorted without missing a beat. 

“Fine, then.” Rowan rolled his eyes even though Alaric couldn’t see it. “Don’t answer. Sorry for trying to make conversation.”

A tense silence befell them, but Rowan tried to ignore it in favour of collecting some fruit they could eat as a snack. Rowan had abandoned his plan to eat a can of soup for breakfast and had just skipped breakfast entirely, and now he was hungry to the point of his stomach hurting and his head spinning with nausea. If he so much as turned his head too fast, he risked vomiting. And he was not about to do that in front of Alaric. 

But, unexpectedly, after a few minutes, Alaric broke the silence. 

“Because I want to rid the world of those abhorrent, foul creatures.” Rowan could hear the grimace in his tone. 

“But you’re putting your own life on the line,” Rowan pointed out. “Why? Why would you want to do that?”

Alaric took a deep breath. Rowan glanced over his shoulder and saw the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders and upper back. Like he was carefully constructing his answer to only tell Rowan a selective amount of information. Of course. He could never get any clear answers from this man. 

“I don’t care about dying.” 

Rowan paused to consider his words. Surely, that had to be a lie. Rowan was always under the impression that Alaric wanted to live a long life and have a bunch of fucking babies with a gorgeous woman and continue their pompous bloodline. 

“Come on,” Rowan scoffed. “That can’t be the reason. This is the apocalypse, dude. We could die any second. No use in lying to me.”

“I’m not lying.” Alaric was gritting his teeth. He could tell. “I don’t care about dying.”

“Why, though? You could probably survive the apocalypse with your family in your fancy private estate or whatever shit rich people have. You can probably afford vampire-proof gates.”

“My family is dead.”

The air turned so uncomfortably tense that Rowan felt like he was suffocating under the weight of it. His chest was tight, and his throat felt like it was closing up, making it difficult to inhale a full breath. That nausea returned in an unwelcome flash, and he swayed a bit from where he was kneeling down. 

“... oh.” His voice was no louder than a pathetic whisper. “M- mine… mine too…”

“Everybody’s family is dead these days. I’m over it. I’m sorry about yours, though. I’m sure they were lovely.”

Rowan exhaled through his nose. “They were. Not like you care, though.” He wasn’t about to share his deepest trauma with someone he’s been rivals with for two years. And he wasn’t sure how trustworthy Alaric really was. 

“Plus,” Alaric said as Rowan stood on unsteady, trembling legs, “I wanted to escape my family. I got along with the other Vampire Hunters better than I ever got along with my family.”

“Huh,” Rowan said as he spun around, two plastic bags of berries in his hand. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Are… any of them alive?” 

“I don’t know. One or two of them might be.”

“One or two of them?”

“We were split into groups. I watched most of my group members die. And the remaning three of us got split up and never returned to the base. I’ve been alone for a while.”

Rowan chewed on the inside of his cheek, suddenly feeling awkward for asking. “Uh… I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that a lot.”

“Because I am.”

“Your mysteries are going to piss me off eventually. Well, piss me off more than I already am.”

“Then be pissed off. You’re free to leave at any point.”

Dreadfully, he couldn’t do that until he could get close enough to rob him of that magnificent, vampire-killing beast at Alaric’s hip. “I got a snack for us.”

Finally, Alaric turned to face him again, tilting his head down to stare at the ziplock bags containing various types of colourful berries. Their height difference was embarrassing but sort of attractive. Rowan wished Alaric were hideous so he wouldn’t be forced to deal with lust while trying to hate the man. Alaric was a head taller than him, and while standing up straight, Rowan was graced with a view of his chest. Alaric could easily rest his chin on top of Rowan’s head if he wanted to. 

Thank god he would never want to. 

“You can take mine.”

Rowan raised a brow. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes.”

“Did you eat while I was asleep?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you fucking eat right now?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“You’re fucking welcome for caring about you! You don’t deserve my care after the shit you pulled two years ago. Can you be fucking grateful?!”

Alaric crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. “Is it a crime to not be hungry?”

“You must be,” Rowan insisted. “Do you think I’m going to poison you? Trust me, I wish I could. But I can’t.” 

“You are… certainly not helping your case.” 

“What case?! I’m not the less trustworthy one between us.”

Alaric evidently didn’t have a witty quip to that. Exasperated, Rowan pushed one of the bags harshly against Alaric’s chest, and Alaric caught it before it fell. He held it on a tight fist, scrutinizing it with tilts of his head. 

Rowan huffed. “They’re just berries. I made sure they aren’t toxic.”

“... thank you.” And then he shoved them into the pocket of his coat. Rowan shook his head. 

“Whatever, man,” he said and popped a berry into his own mouth. The juice flowing over his tongue elicited a groan from him. “You’re missing out,” he said through a mouthful of fruity goodness. 

“All right.”

Rowan spun on his heel and chose to lead the way this time, and while Alaric had no verbal complaints, he knew that deep down, he was fuming with agitation that he wasn’t the one with a loyal underling following his every step. 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

While walking, Rowan and Alaric didn’t really speak to each other. They only ever exchanged the occasional ‘watch your step’ or ‘look over there.’ Albeit, Alaric was typically the one to speak up first. Rowan couldn’t have given any less of a fuck whether Alaric watched his step or not if he tried. 

But Alaric, the intelligent bastard that he was, knew when to watch his step by observing how Rowan was stepping as he followed behind. 

Rowan had finished his bag of berries, but Alaric had yet to touch his. He was exceedingly curious as to why he wasn’t eating, but he wouldn’t inquire. All he’d receive as a reply was riddles, anyhow. Some pretentious bullshit like ‘the way of the wind does not allow me to consume nutrients at this time’ or some other vague statement that made Rowan want to take his blade and stab him. 

A hand landed on his shoulder which caused Rowan to jump, not even realizing that he’d been lost in his own head until he was broken out of his stupor. 

“What–”

“Shhh.”

“Don’t you shush me!”

“Be quiet,” Alaric hissed. “There’s something nearby.”

Dread filled Rowan’s head, clogging his senses. “Huh?”

“Be. Quiet.”

Resentfully, he obliged. He tried not to breathe too loudly, fearful that the slightest hint of noise might call attention to them. If the threat was a vampire, it would undoubtedly be able to hear loud breathing. Hell, some of those motherfuckers could even hear elevated heartbeats. He could feel Alaric hovering over his shoulder, his sword drawn, and he crept around a cluster of trees with obscenely thick trunks. 

Rowan followed at his heels. He slipped his knife out of his pocket and flicked out the blade, which had been dulled from months of usage. He most likely would never be able to find a place to sharpen it again. 

The world was eerily still for a few moments that felt like an eternity. Then, he lunged, swinging his sword out in front of him to intimidate the enemy and protect them, but then his shoulders fell, and his ragged breaths rose in volume, and clearly, there was nothing to panic about. 

“Oh,” was all Alaric said. 

“What?” Rowan asked, also stepping out from behind the cluster and making his way around Alaric to take a gander at what had gotten his partner so worked up. He tucked his knife back into his pocket and when he saw what was on the ground in front of them, he couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Dude, it's a deer,” he said. “A dead one, at that.”

At their feet, a poor deer lay soaking in a pool of its own thick, potent blood, its chest cavity ripped open as if another animal had hunted it, mutilated it, and then decided that it didn’t want deer meat for dinner. 

“That isn’t right,” Alaric said. 

“How did you become one of the top three Vampire Hunters, again?”

“A deer isn’t what I smelled or heard.”

“Isn’t what you smelled or heard,” Rowan mocked incredulously. “You aren’t superhuman. Stop trying to claim you smell things. The only thing I smell is a rotting animal corpse and blood.”

Alaric lowered his sword. “Rowan.” 

For some unknown reason, the sound of his name on Alaric’s lips sent chills piercing through his spine. He said it like the very word was poison on his lips. It was a warning. 

He swallowed. “Alaric.”

Alaric closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “We should leave.”

“What? Why? This can be our dinner. We don’t even have to kill it,” Rowan insisted. 

“I…” Alaric opened his eyes and turned his gaze down to the carcass, and his eye twitched. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. 

Rowan rolled his eyes theatrically. “Ohhh, my god. Why do you always insist that we do things the hard way?!”

“You know, I’m really surprised you’ve survived this long.” Alaric finally shot his focus to him, his expression dangerous. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips were curled up into a sneer. 

“I’m surprised you survived this long,” Rowan retorted. “Considering you refuse to accept easy solutions that are served to you on a silver fucking platter.”

“Survival isn’t about trusting everything that’s handed to you!” Alaric exclaimed. “It’s about being smart and studying your surroundings. And I think that eating that deer or even staying here for much longer is a bad idea.”

“Why? Huh? Can you tell me why?”

“No, I can’t.” 

“Why can’t you?” 

“Please, just, trust me.” There was unexpected fear colouring Alaric’s tone and intense gaze, like Alaric was wearing a facade and cracks were starting to form. “Please.”

Rowan was conflicted. He’d only met Alaric again last night after two years of observing him from afar after their rivalship in the training hall. And by afar, that meant news about him being shoved down his throat every time he checked any of his social media accounts. No matter how many times he blocked the words ‘Alaric Orpheus’ from showing up on his Twitter feed, he somehow still managed to weave his way through the cracks and taint Rowan’s screen with a picture of his stupid face and his stupid hands holding his stupid Vampire Hunter sword standing in a stupidly attractive pose. 

He hated Alaric so fucking much. 

He hated that he didn’t despise Alaric as much as he wanted to. 

Rowan exhaled in annoyance. “Fine. But only if you eat your berries. I would rather not be slaughtered by your Vampire Hunter buddies for letting you starve to death.”

Alaric appeared to be torn between relaxing and tensing up. Relaxing because he convinced Roawn to listen to him, but tensing because of his one and only condition. It should have been a no-brainer, and easy decision, but unexplainably, Alaric was adamant about not eating. Or maybe he was shy about eating in front of people. Rowan abolished the thought of that being oddly adorable. 

“Do you not like eating in front of people?” Rowan asked. 

Alaric took a deep breath. “Something like that.”

Rowan chose to be merciful. “Then I won’t look. I promise.”

Alaric threw him an uncertain look. 

“If it means we can get out of here…”

“Yeah.”

Alaric considered the offer and weighed his options. 

Then, he sheathed his sword, pulled the bag of berries out of his pocket and nodded in the opposite direction of the deer. 

“Come on, then. Let’s go.”