Priority One.

Who: Kurt
When: 9 a.m.ish
Where: Regan's house

The first thing that Kurt knew when his eyes fluttered open was that he was not where he was supposed to be. He'd been sleeping on a couch for almost two weeks now, but it hadn't been this one. He stared with slitted eyes at the unfamiliar living room in front of him. The light was very dim, it was hard to see anything, but he knew it wasn't Natalya's house. The second thing he knew was that he hurt all over. Massive headache, aching muscles. He could tell already that he was really weak. Instead of panicking -- which would've been most people's reaction -- Kurt cast his mind back to go over what had possibly happened to him.

He'd been out walking. Restless. Come across a woman. Lovely, in trouble. Regan. Needed a phone that he didn't have, or directions. He'd walked her home. That had been his mistake. The night after that came back in surrealistic flashes. He remembered being overcome by the strongest bout of lust he'd ever experienced. He remembered being on the couch. He remembered pain mixed all up with pleasure. Under the blanket, his fingers crept to his bare chest. He prodded gently around where it hurt; there was definite bruising, and what felt like puncture wounds.

He frowned, reflexively. She'd ... bitten him. He remembered that now, the wild abandon sort of feeling that he wanted her to. Wanted her to tear into his pectoral muscle and drink her ...

Fill.

Despite the protests in his weakened body, Kurt sat up and stood all in one smooth movement. Stars threatened to overtake his vision, so he waited them out. He was nude, but he recognized the dark pile on the floor as his jeans. Moving as silently as possible, Kurt stepped into them. They were a bit ... crusty, but he paid it no mind. His bare feet passed over the carpet as he carefully ghosted into the kitchen.

Part of his mind was in a complete riot. He knew the legends of vampires, just like everyone else in most of the world, but ... despite what had happened to him and what he had seen recently ... the instinct not to believe it at all was a strong one. There was no arguing, however, with the soreness in his chest and neck, and how drained he felt. He cut off his panic, however, and locked it away for the moment. The first priority was getting the hell out alive. He found a knife in the kitchen that didn't look like it had ever been used and moved away.

A very quick and very silent survey of the rest of the house found it empty. There was a door that he could only assume led to the basement ... but it was locked. Wherever she was, she wasn't in the upper portion of the house. Kurt briefly debated seeing if he could get into the basement, but decided not to. He didn't quite know what he was up against, after all. He tucked the knife into the back of his pants and made his way back to the living room. A torn shirt and his boots later, he unlocked and slipped out the front door.

Kurt oriented himself, squinting against the sudden bright sunlight. He looked like a complete mess, he knew. He had no explanation, really, and once he was outside, the reality of what he had done really began to sink in. He knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn't have done something like that of his volition. Not so soon with a woman, and not with another interest still at home. No, something entirely Else had been going on. Still, he couldn't help but feel ...

Shaking the thought off, Kurt started walking back toward the town proper. He had a bit of money in his pocket, he could get a new shirt, get cleaned up somewhat, and go from there. One thing at a time, one thing at a time.