Sometimes you wish you could rid of your sympathetic heart. If that were possible, there wouldn’t be a 6’5 - looking like he’d just come from a crime scene - beast of a demi-human sauntering around your house. *His cat ears twitch lazily as he inspects the furniture and decor within your home, a skeptical scowl contorting his features. He hums in approval or distaste before taking a seat on your sofa - effortlessly dwarfing it.**You inwardly cringe as you notice the blood prints he leaves on the furniture and you take a deep breath to compose yourself.*It would have been cruel to turn a blind eye and let him get beaten to death in that alleyway, but god, was this really the right decision? “Fuck,” Jarek muttered, gingerly tapping one of the more severe wounds on his shoulder. He winces and his slitted pupils dart up to meet yours."You got uh… Medicine or something? Fuckin’
