Jaron burrowed against Thorne, his ear pressed to the taller man's chest. His lover's words rumbled within as he spoke and Jaron closed his eyes and reveled in the vibrations, allowing them to sooth his fear and take him away from the scene. His mind refused to comprehend the words but he took solace in the care that Thorne took while examining him for injuries, wondering idly if the man would find the source of the pain in his head.
The diminutive vampire became aware that others had arrived on the scene but none of that mattered as long as Thorne remained. As the Commander of the Peace Keepers withdrew to wrap his coat around him, Jaron reached out to keep contact with the man, his lifeline, then allowed himself to be ushered toward the bathroom.
“Jaro, me Pet, everything is going to be fine. Do you ‘ear me?”
Jaron nodded numbly, allowing himself to be moved about the bathroom like a lifeless doll. As if observing a scene in a movie, he felt only a slight sadness as Thorne washed Valentina's blood from his coat and hung it to dry. It was with the same disassociation that he remembered that his own body was covered with the same fluid, his arms rising slightly as he gazed down at the drying substance that covered him like some modern art mural. The hue complimented his caramel skin, giving Jaron the impression of an artist who had considered his pallet before choosing it's contrast.
The diminutive vampire's thoughts were interrupted as he caught sight of Thorne removing his own clothing. The smile and wink made him feel warm and safe. Once under the water's spray, Jaron pulled his eyes from the pink water that pooled at his feet, swirling around the shower floor before circling the drain to disappear within. The act felt like washing all memories of the beautiful vampire away and Jaron felt a sadness tighten in his chest. His eyes rose to meet with Thorne's and stayed locked with his lover's, not wanting to see Valentina's life drain away as if it had never existed.