“ you look almost human. ”
for vampire verse..
⋆ — Almost, as if Ezreal needed the reminder. His lips press together as a shadow crosses his expression. Ezreal didn't ask for this life — he rather liked the one he was having, actually, even though an annoying voice in his mind reminds him that he wouldn't be alive at all if he hadn't been turned. Whatever.
"Thanks, I suppose," he says, reluctantly holding their gaze for a moment before he glances off to the side. Talon wouldn't know how much of a sore spot it is for Ezreal (though everything about his response should be a pretty clear indication), so it's not like they're trying to rub him the wrong way. It's just that he knows his cheeks have a healthy flush as if there's really blood flowing beneath them because he's just fed, and the taste of blood (rich and luxurious, despite his moral reluctance) is still heavy on his tongue, even days later. "It's useful for, uh... blending in, right?" Other vampires would care about that, right? Maybe not Kayn, who's always happy to play the monster, but other vampires.
A memory strikes him, vivid, the way all his vampiric memories are, like they're trying to drive out all his memories of being human. An admirer whispering in his ear about how cute the flush on his cheeks is, asking what else makes him blush, and the feeling of their skin giving way beneath his fangs when he took a sip later. Yeah, blending in.
"You, uh..." Ezreal feels woefully unprepared for this conversation. "Don't."