[He is so sorry, Gray! Nice young ladies like you should not have to let weird old dhampirs suck on their veins. Don’t ever let anyone else do this to you, even if they’re polite about it!
The dark and the downward tilt of Liem’s face help to hide the shame in it as he fastens his mouth to her arm, but he still appreciates that, at the very least, she doesn’t watch. That it has even come to this is mortifying; if nothing else, the experience is encouragement for him to tend to his needs more attentively, so he won’t end up putting Gray in this kind of position again.
He does not reply to either of her comments, busy as his mouth is with other things. Even if he wasn’t, he would be too embarrassed to tell her how her blood tastes (young, and vital in the way that only those touched by magic are), or object to the idea that she shouldn’t mind losing a bit of blood to him since her body will make more. Instead he simply drinks from her wound, until he stops aching with weariness and the need for blood is no longer waging war on his senses.
It is not so very long. Despite the severity of his ailment, the strain of it recedes quickly once he finally has a taste of what he needs. The difficult part, as always, lies in forcing himself not to take more than that. It is always difficult to resist the pull of flowing lifeblood, no matter how sated he might be.
But the fact that they are still in a dangerous area, and that it is Gray whose blood he is drinking, makes it easier. Liem pulls back with one last lap of his tongue (sorry, Gray), and forces himself to finish cleaning her arm so he can finally bandage it, like he was supposed to do minutes ago. His mouth is definitely still a little bloody, and he tries not to think about it.]
no subject
The dark and the downward tilt of Liem’s face help to hide the shame in it as he fastens his mouth to her arm, but he still appreciates that, at the very least, she doesn’t watch. That it has even come to this is mortifying; if nothing else, the experience is encouragement for him to tend to his needs more attentively, so he won’t end up putting Gray in this kind of position again.
He does not reply to either of her comments, busy as his mouth is with other things. Even if he wasn’t, he would be too embarrassed to tell her how her blood tastes (young, and vital in the way that only those touched by magic are), or object to the idea that she shouldn’t mind losing a bit of blood to him since her body will make more. Instead he simply drinks from her wound, until he stops aching with weariness and the need for blood is no longer waging war on his senses.
It is not so very long. Despite the severity of his ailment, the strain of it recedes quickly once he finally has a taste of what he needs. The difficult part, as always, lies in forcing himself not to take more than that. It is always difficult to resist the pull of flowing lifeblood, no matter how sated he might be.
But the fact that they are still in a dangerous area, and that it is Gray whose blood he is drinking, makes it easier. Liem pulls back with one last lap of his tongue (sorry, Gray), and forces himself to finish cleaning her arm so he can finally bandage it, like he was supposed to do minutes ago. His mouth is definitely still a little bloody, and he tries not to think about it.]
I’m sorry about that. It won’t happen again.