A Love Letter, Written in Red

He was flying.

Cold winds tugged at his leathery wings, and he let them carry him higher, then lower, until he returned to the balcony from which he had started his flight.

He aimed for the balustrade, but was too fast and his position was all wrong. He ended up tumbling head over wings.

Just before his small bat body could hit the stone hard, the bat flying next to him exploded into a mess of black clothes and black hair, and caught him awkwardly in his arms.

"I keep telling you, you're not a raven, you've got to stop trying to perch on railings."

To show what he thought of being chided like this, Finn batted his wings until Kylo released him again by throwing him into the air.

This time, he managed to turn back before he hit the ground.

Finn sank to the ground, forehead pressed against the cool stone as he gasped for air he didn't need anymore. His body was shaking with the exertion of using muscles he shouldn't even have in ways that defied scientific explanation.

His eyes, wide open, burned bright yellow, and his mouth sported a new pair of fangs.

"I keep telling you, I'm working on my landing," he gasped, his voice half muffled by his own breathless laughter. One day very soon, he would master his landings, he had already figured out taking off and flying, and the transformation itself. He just had this thing about crashing. But he would figure it out – and he had absolutely no intention to stop landing in Kylo's arms instead.

He peered at his lover out of the corner of his eyes, taking in his sulkiness with a loving smile. Regularly ending up with an armful of bat chipped away at Kylo's gothic vampire airs.

Finn let his lover help him up, and pulled him into a kiss. He didn't feel cold to the touch anymore.

The End