[The catacombs are remarkably easy to access; the wrought-iron gates are all old and poorly maintained, and this one bursts open the moment Trevor slams his shoulder into it, screeching and crashing on rusty hinges to grant them access to the stone-walled set of stairs that would lead them up to the main thoroughfare above.
Trevor finally skids to a halt when they're through, and gives one last glare to the darkness behind them before slamming the gate shut and sagging back against the wall.]
Fuck!
[Trevor's panting, struggling for breath as his legs threaten to give out beneath him, exhausted from a full day worth of stalking the catacombs coupled with that mad sprint for an exit.
Trevor realizes a beat or two later, he's still holding Adrian's wrist in a nearly white-knuckled grip. It loosens immediately, and he smoothes his thumb apologetically over the dhampir's skin before dropping his hands entirely.]
Why does every damned monster want to turn us to fucking stone?
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Trevor finally skids to a halt when they're through, and gives one last glare to the darkness behind them before slamming the gate shut and sagging back against the wall.]
Fuck!
[Trevor's panting, struggling for breath as his legs threaten to give out beneath him, exhausted from a full day worth of stalking the catacombs coupled with that mad sprint for an exit.
Trevor realizes a beat or two later, he's still holding Adrian's wrist in a nearly white-knuckled grip. It loosens immediately, and he smoothes his thumb apologetically over the dhampir's skin before dropping his hands entirely.]
Why does every damned monster want to turn us to fucking stone?