@roscruin / cont.
a look down to the floor, fangs press worriedly into his lip, just light enough to keep from breaking the skin. he held back so many years, battled against much more intense bouts of thirst than this with less to hold himself together. drops of blood spilled for the sake of temptation, and still he had managed resistance. this is fine, this is nothing. he could do it again now, ignore the drumming of the other’s pulse in his ears, fight the urge to latch himself to the offered arm.
“ if-----if i have no other options, then----- ” a heavy breath, a reluctance he tries to refuse within himself, “ a vial....would be fine. ”












