The cycle of thoughts takes a breath; he leans up to meet her wrist, thinks there's a joke or a double entendre or both in this about eating out, but his brain feels too rubbery to seize on the idea.
He can't tell if he's swallowing his blood or swallowing hers.
He's swallowing her blood.
"Little weird," he manages, "Even for me, little weird."
no subject
Is he dreaming?
No, definitely not dreaming.
What was it she said about vampire blood?
It'll heal you.
A lesson repeated.
Oh well.
His mouth already tastes like blood.
The cycle of thoughts takes a breath; he leans up to meet her wrist, thinks there's a joke or a double entendre or both in this about eating out, but his brain feels too rubbery to seize on the idea.
He can't tell if he's swallowing his blood or swallowing hers.
He's swallowing her blood.
"Little weird," he manages, "Even for me, little weird."