Shattered Wolfhook. (A Razor x Reader).

Chapter Seven.

(Warnings: VERY SAD BB BOY)

Opening his light crimson eyes, Razor smelt the familiar forest breeze. Perking up to voices in the distance, he stayed on high alert. You were peacefully sleeping next to him, his arm hooked around your waist to protect you. He carefully moved that arm, eyeing his claymore that was perched up the den wall nearest to the both of you. The voices got closer, Razor snatched his claymore, and stood up. He carefully ventured out of his home. He saw two figures, one with long silver hair, and the other he couldn't possibly tell. Their backs were turned, as they were looking at a familiar purple berry.

Razor ducked behind a few bushes without them noticing, and progressively got closer to them. The voices continued, and he recognised one was more feminine than the other, which was more masculine. He smelt metal, it wasn't too strong, but strong enough to get a small whiff of it and assume that it was metal.

He made sure his tufts of hair weren't poking out of the bush, having to brush them back. He made a small rustling, and mentally cursed to himself, getting ready for a fight. Gripping onto the handle of the claymore, Razor's breathing became erratic. They smelt familiar, but a familiarity that didn't even seem to cross his mind. He's never smelt the scent, so why was it so familiar?

In a state of confusion, a hand came into his view, he was a bit slow to process, and yelped. He felt himself being pulled out of the bush, then straight onto the ground, his arms crossed behind his back, a firm grip on them. His head ached as he groaned in pain, opening his eyes to glare at the figure who held him down. Red eyes met his, and he squirmed to get out of the grip of the seemingly male figure on top of him. "...! Let him go!" A feminine voice shrieked, and the male got off of Razor. Razor was quick to jump to his feet, pulling out his claymore, his vision sparking purple around the metal.

"Who are you!?" Razor barked, snarling at the two. They both looked like him, one a little more different from the other. The female put her hands over her chest, waving them. "No need to fight! We came to the forest to explore a bit, isn't that right dear?" She said, her voice was familiar, why? "Yes, that is correct." The male confirmed, Razor lowered his guard just a little, before raising it. The female was looking strangely at him, a sense of familiarity glazed over her eyes. "What are you doing out here?" She asked, and Razor perked up. "Forest is Razor's home." He responded, and she questioned again. "Do your parents live out here too?"

That was a strange question, Razor was well over the age of sixteen now. The last time he heard that question was from the traveler a few years back. "No, Razor have no mother. No father. Was abandoned when little. Raised by wolves." He tried his best to form a sentence in the best english he could, and it failed miserably. But, the female seemed to understand, her eyes lighting up. "You're named Razor, right?" She asked gently, and he nodded. "Do you have any memories of your parents?" In response he shook his head. "Razor think parents are dead." He admitted, his eyes boring into the females. "What if I told you they aren't?" Razor's eyes widened, as he almost dropped his claymore. "What do you mean? Has female met Razors parents?" He snapped, his guard was a confusion of 'I want to know more' and 'I have a thing I need to protect'.

The woman giggled, the male beside her. "When I was Twenty three, I gave birth to a wonderful boy, he had red eyes like you." her voice was soft and gentle, making Razor drop the stance he was in. "I had to abandon him, it was to save him. Our home was enclosed by the abyss mages, and we had to protect our baby. So we took him to this forest, and prayed to Barbatos that he would be able to survive." Razor's breathing hitched, tears clouding his vision, but he had to push that hope away, keeping his claymore up, and regaining the stance he had before.

"It looks like our prayers worked, look at you, alive, healthy. Our son." She said with a soft smile, and he dropped it, dropped his claymore, his stance, and rushed to his parents, being engulfed into a warm hug as he sobbed into his mothers shoulder. The words "Mama" and "Papa" rushed out of his mouth like a continuous waterfall. His mother looked down at him, smiled softly, and whispered his name.

His name was said again.
Again.

"Razor, wake up you're whimpering!"

Razor's eyes opened, his wide pupils trailing up to your face. He lifted himself with his arm, before tears started to flow down his cheeks. You panicked, wiping the continuous globs of water away. "Razor! Oh Razor, what's wrong?" You whimpered, and he pressed his face into your palm, holding onto your wrist, both of his thumbs pressing against the soft flesh of your inner wrist. "Please. Don't tell Razor you're a dream too." he pleaded, pressing his nose against your palm. You both stayed quiet aside from the soft sniffles and whimpers from Razor. He carefully embraced you, and you both fell into a cuddle on the thatch patch. His embrace tightened, as if he was scared he'd lose you.

He was scared. He was scared to lose you.