The Sentinels legs and hands, thumbs together

Donovan had never shed a tear in his life, he was brutally trained to never have feeling, it only held you down. He was constantly bashed with the idea that emotions were for dumbasses, for morons, for pussies. He never once yearned to be normal, he wanted to be heartless and cold, he never excpected he would crash into the burning chaos of love. When his father's soul left the gang, and Indie's flaming presence disappeared he wanted to cry. To desperately release the pain in another outlet versus violence. The amount of deaths he committed to pour his safed in torment was the strong way, the way he was routined to believe. No, he never allowed his stinging eyes to pour out salty tears, but he wanted to so damn bad when he lost them. The most important beings in his hellish life.

Don't waste your emotions. There was no sentiment to squander, for he had his entire life's feeling crammed into his heart where it dwelled, it's abyss only growing more the longer his blood pumped. He would always deeply care for Merry-Andrews, but he wouldn't waste his preserved emotion on them, only for one could he do such a thing. 

The shadow's sudden shift in temper and rushed touch was relieving. Instantly, he closed his eyes, resting his muzzle agaisnt her. It felt so intimate in the most innocent way possible. The ghost of regret that followed him anytime they merely spoke fondly after his fathers death had disappated into thin air. Maybe that's all they needed, time. God he hoped, he craved the vamp so often - she hardly left his mind. Her murmer sent a shiver through his entire body, only one wolf had that ability. 

"We haven't done everything there is to do." The brute argued, his voice was low, even his whispers pounded loudly. Donovan pushed himself farther into their embrace, taking as much out of it as he possibly could. "Indie, I've missed you so fucking much."