"Why do you do that?" she asked, embarrassed when her voice came out husky. "Are you in pain?"
"Not the kind you'd understand."
"What do you mean not the kind I'd understand?" she persisted, standing. "I don't want to hurt you, Damian."
His eyes were closed. He gave a husky laugh at her words. "I mean, when you do that, I want to fuck you, and if you don't leave like, NOW, I'm gonna drag you into my bed and-"
She ran before he finished, emotions roiling and high off the kiss and his blood. Though she couldn't see her own fate, she began to suspect which direction it'd take her in.
"Any day now!" he shouted as he passed her room to leave.
*****
She stood in a dark, cold place, gazing at the hunched form in the corner. She couldn't tell if he was human or beast. While afraid, she knew whatever he was, he needed help. Her help.
Darian stirred, pushing himself farther into the corner. She approached and knelt a safe distance from him, trying hard to see into the darkness of the corner. She couldn't make him out.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered.
"Free me."
While his form was large enough to be a man the size of Damian's Guardians, his voice was terrified and gravelly, as if he hadn't ever spoken to anyone.
"Are you okay?" she asked, creeping forward.
He began to cry, the soul-deep weeping of a man who'd lost all and spent his tormented life in a level of hell she'd never be able to imagine. The sound made her gut twist and her chest tighten. Tears formed in her eyes at the heartbreaking sound of his pain. She moved closer and held out her hand. He reached for her, but his scarred hand passed through hers, as if all that remained of him was a ghost of the man he'd been. She made out the shape of the bottom of a tattoo on his bicep, what looked like a half-sun. The rest was shrouded in darkness.
Darian wouldn't leave her alone. The scene played over and over in her thoughts, growing stronger until he was as vivid during daylight as he had been at night. She rubbed her temples and issued a challenging glare to the contents of the pantry, furious once more she could eat none of the wonderful things it held.
"Gods. She does this a few times a day. She can't eat food, but she refuses to admit it to herself," Han explained to Pierre. "Since you'll be her new-"
"Babysitter," she interjected.
"Exactly. You'll be holding her hair for her in the bathroom several times a day."