as disgusted as her face was, she presented a tube of her blood to him. "merry christmas, fu-san... " she truly couldn't think of anything else to get for the strange little shit. but she knew he wanted this. lets not get into how she had to get it done.
“Aww–! You shouldn’t have!”
He’s clearly excited, but not greedy about it–he gingerly gathers the container from her hand with a sweet smile, and a cock of his head.
“I didn’t think you would get me something! Especially something as perfect as this!”
Giving it a little wiggle, he cackles!
“And–Don’t you worry. Any interesting little tidbits or fun facts that come from this sample go straight to you, if you want!”
A wink, and he tucks it away behind him, into his belt. Turning back, his smile takes to something more sincere, but a curious look flickers in his eyes.
“You like–roses, and the color pink, right? I can make something like that work.”
But he doesn’t elaborate--because he’s gone in an instant!
As it turns out, much later–when she returns to her living quarters later that day, a small bouquet of red roses sits on the pillow of her bed. It’d almost be accidentally romantic, but a small sticky note with a crude scribble of–is that suppose to be a syringe? Right, for the blood–that reads a very scratchy ‘THANK YOU!’ is bundled against the stems.
Weird, certainly–saved only, perhaps, by the one pink rose in the center of the little thing; rather, it’s not a real rose, but a faux one–in fact, it’s a hair decoration!