Bastille Imagines

Bite Down

A/n: Um soooooo...vampire Dan anyone? I know two in one day, I'm bored. Any requests?

Never in your twenty youthful years did you ever think that you would end up partaking in the walk of shame at 3 in the morning. But then again, were you ever expecting to see your now-ex-boyfriend kissing your now-ex-best-friend? The chill of the night creeps under your skin as a strong breeze sends the leaves blowing through the air. This is certainly not the night for you to be walking out alone, especially in your knee high dress with its pathetic strap sleeves and your whatever-inch-high heels tangled around your fingers. Stones are piercing into the bottom of your bare soles but with the anger that stimulated from your cheating boyfriend kissing your no longer best friend, you aren't willing to give a fuck about the pain you're enduring. You should've known: of course he wasn't going to see his mother who lived an hour away, of course he didn't need to stay for extra studying at uni, and of course he wasn't working extra shifts at his job. You dread to think how long this has gone beneath your knowledge, but however you're thankful that it had been discovered before the misconduct of your boyfriend secretly seeing your best friend continued.

But was it so hard to actually produce a little commitment? Were you really that unbearable? You were certain that things between him and you were stereotypically perfect in terms of being in a healthy relationship. You guess that you just weren't good enough that it made him chase after your best friend who has now lost that status of being your best friend.

You're almost home, six more minutes in the freezing cold and the pain of tonight's memories can fade away. A gust of wind suddenly picks up challenging your strength to move on and force your way through the cold.

"Are you alright there?" A gentle, benevolent voice quietly enters your right ear. You look down the alley way lined with bins and littered with beer bottles. Slowly, a shadow emerges from the darkness and out comes a tall homeless man dressed in rags. His blue eyes illuminate in the streetlights with darkened shadows left on his hollow cheeks where the light can't quite reach. He's starving, you can tell; the way his scrawny looking figure lacks muscle and a little fat. His face is slightly shielded by his matted, dark brown hair. He doesn't look threatening in the slightest, his pitiful conditions that he's forced to live in makes you sympathise for him.

"Yes I'm fine, thanks," you kindly respond.

"Oh my god, you're freezing. Just...just let me help? I can give you a..." He looks around for a moment struggling to find something to finish his sentence with, until he stares down at the clothes he's wearing. He begins to unravel the cosy looking scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and outstretches his hand to offer it to you. "I know it's not much, but you look like you need it more than I do."

Normally, you wouldn't accept offers off of homeless men late at night, or anyone for that matter. But something's pulling you towards him, persuading you to take the scarf. You're confused as to why a homeless man, such as the one standing in front of you, would be willing to give up something that would be considered so treasurable to someone like him. You almost want to take it simply just to please him and make him happy for doing something so generous.

You approach him and take the scarf. Slowly you wrap it around your neck surprisingly not having that stench that you expected it to have and immediately his heat transfers onto your body.

"Thank you." You smile at him. After taking one last look at him something inside you switches which causes you to look into your purse, rummage through the multiple notes counting each one. You take a deep breath as you hand him £50. His eyes are wide and his breath is taken from him. You're not quite sure why you're doing this, you feel hypnotised in a way that you have no control over your actions, you never usually donate to the homeless, as selfish as it sounds. His innocent eyes stare back at you questioning whether you realise what you're doing.