That yanked at Victor’s heart more than anything else ever could. Despite his love of danger and playboy attitude he secretly yearned to have a family of his own. The idea scared the hell out of him but he wanted to be a father, sometime in the future. “I-but…” The protest died on his lips, not really having an actual argument. He stopped trying to mask the fear in his eyes and let Summer see it. He was scared, all he knew was killing. He was scared of fucking things up. What right did he really have settling down? Having a family maybe. “Alright, an’ wha’ should we do about my obvious problem with blood? I can’t live off of bagged blood. I can’t only feed off of you, it’d kill you.”
“Shit,” she swore wearily. “I don’t know. I just — I can’t do this again, not knowing, being afraid for you.” She blinked, trying not to cry, but it was too late. Hot tears slid down past her ears, and she freed a hand to rub at her face. “Sorry. Sorry.”
Victor frowned and gently swatted her hand away, wiping the tears with his own hand and kissing her eyes. “I know, an’ I want t’ stay with you, I’d give the world for you even though it scares me t’ death Summer. It won’t do either of us any good if I’m dead though.” He sighed shakily, not making eye contact for a moment then smiled sadly. His lips found hers slowly and rhythmically as he kissed her. “I’ll do it. I’ll stop. I dunno how but I’ll figure something out. I’ll stop for you if you want me t’.”
It hurt. His worry, his fear, his pain, his sorrow — she made an effort to shut it out, hard though it was with his skin to hers. But she could barely respond to his kisses, cutting herself with how selfish she was. Who was she to ask him to change, just because she was a little afraid? That wasn’t fair to him, not at all.
“Don’t,” Summer said at last, turning her face away. “Don’t, I don’t deserve it. I’m sorry, it was selfish, I shouldn’t’ve said it.”