[Liem has never watched anyone drink his blood before. This is the first time anyone has ever asked to, because why would anyone ever want such a thing? Even to those who might find the blood of living people attractive, he can only imagine his own blood would be a mediocre draw at best. Where most people’s veins run hot and red, his own are a thin black trickle, cool to the touch and strange to taste. Anyone who craved blood for the gush of life in it would only be disappointed by what he had to offer.
Unsurprisingly, Carmine seems barely able to stomach it. But she drinks nonetheless, pulling another small wince from him as she suckles at the stinging gash left by his blade. He distracts himself initially by fishing a cloth out of a pocket and wiping the blade of his dagger, sheathing it again once the edge is unstained by any hint of black. But there’s little else to focus on aside from the act itself, caught as they are in a lull in the evening’s long conflict. From his blade and then from the city skyline, his gaze slides back to Carmine.
The sensation of her mouth against his raw nerves seems to reach all the way to his gut, intensely visceral in a way that, perversely, could almost be enjoyable in better circumstances. For now, as she clutches weakly at his arm and suffers through her needy consumption, he can only watch with fascination bordering on disgust. It is, after all, a revolting thing for anyone to need to do.]
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Unsurprisingly, Carmine seems barely able to stomach it. But she drinks nonetheless, pulling another small wince from him as she suckles at the stinging gash left by his blade. He distracts himself initially by fishing a cloth out of a pocket and wiping the blade of his dagger, sheathing it again once the edge is unstained by any hint of black. But there’s little else to focus on aside from the act itself, caught as they are in a lull in the evening’s long conflict. From his blade and then from the city skyline, his gaze slides back to Carmine.
The sensation of her mouth against his raw nerves seems to reach all the way to his gut, intensely visceral in a way that, perversely, could almost be enjoyable in better circumstances. For now, as she clutches weakly at his arm and suffers through her needy consumption, he can only watch with fascination bordering on disgust. It is, after all, a revolting thing for anyone to need to do.]