May 9- prompt: blood- @rosekillermicrofic - words: 350
tw: blood
“Barty,” Evan hums, barely above a whisper. Barty glances up from the cauldron he’d been stirring. Honestly, he doesn’t even remember what they were meant to be making, too busy watching as the particles of pixie wings had dissolved into it, turning it from a lavender to a shimmering bright green. It was truly hypnotic-
“Bartemius.”
“Yes, Rosie?”
“I’ve cut my finger.” Evan says. He’s staring at Barty with those pale eyes again,and you see to the untrained eye, Evan had the same blank face he always did, but Barty could tell. He had an eye for idiosyncrasies. Especially when it came to Evan, who’d tilted his chin down ever so slightly, so the sun shone through his pale blonde lashes. Evan, who’s lip was turned down, just slightly. The slight raising of an eyebrow, so miniscule, so calculated, because Barty notices Evan, but Evan notices everything and he knew what he was doing, and Barty is a lot of things, but he is not a coward. Still, his voice comes out thicker than he means it to,
“Show me.”
Evan rests his hand on the table between them, and sure enough, at the end of one of his long, thin fingers is a small cut. It’s not serious, just a small laceration, really not a big deal, still Barty was transfixed on it, the thin stream of blood seeping over pale, pale skin. It was beautiful. thrilling.
It was ritualistic, what happened next. Barty’s hand slid down from where it rested on Evan’s elbow, till he was cradling Evan's wrist in his hand like a communion goblet, and lifting it to his lips. Pressing his lips over the cut. The taste of iron and salt on his tongue, and then skin. Evan’s eyes locked with his, unblinking.
It was over as soon as it happened, he released evan’s wrist, and as it fell it skated over his lips, his neck, his shoulder and then finally returned to the table.
“Better?”
The corner of Evan’s mouth twitched slightly, “much.”
He could still taste the blood on his lips.
