cry wolf part 6

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Imagine convincing Hunter to be a hero rather then a villain

It’s okay…” You said again, carding your fingers through Hunter’s hair as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder; his hands gripping almost painfully as he held fast to your hips

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It’s okay…” You said again, carding your fingers through Hunter’s hair as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder; his hands gripping almost painfully as he held fast to your hips. You weren’t really sure what made him drag himself to your cell in the middle of the night but it wasn’t until he opened the door and slammed knees first at your feet that you had determined he was on the very precipice of self-annihilation; dark circles bagging beneath his eyes and chest heaving as if he’d just run the length of the earth in a matter of minutes. “Whatever happened, it’s okay.

“I’m so tired…” He whispered around a wobbly exhale that was laced with heartbreaking remorse. “I’m so tired of hurting people - of hurting you.”

“Then let me go…”

“I can’t do that.” He ground out through clenched teeth. “I can’t do that, Y/N. I’m not the hero here. Remember?”

“You could be.” Came your gentle response. “You have the chance to change - to be everything she ever needed.”

“Don’t.” He breathed before firmly rolling his head against your shoulder. “Please, don’t bring her into this.”

Twisting your fingers against his scalp, you took a fistful of hair and lightly pulled until Hunter was looking directly at you; pain seeping from the hardened edges of his irises as he locked onto you. “You couldn’t be your mother’s hero that day but think of all the lives you could save if you put your speed to good use.”

“I can’t be a hero. Just look at me…” And with that, he was pulling away, allowing your eyes to drift across his shoulders; the dark leather of his suit all but quelling the potential in his heart to be something more - something better. “I’m always going to feel that pull to the dark. I can’t be what you want me to be.”

Shaking your head, you bit your lip briefly before placing your hands on his shoulders and bending forward to press your forehead against his; your knees scraping over the rough ground as you scooted closer. “You can try.”

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