Ahaha... I just wanted to talk with you a little bit. Sorry about that.
[Though she isn't really sure if an apology is necessary, all things considered. She does enjoy just laying here in his company, but she did also ask him to do it with a purpose that she's been putting off. So, letting out a breath, she brushes her hair aside and wrenches his collar down a bit so she can kiss and lick at the spot a few times.]
Guess you've been volunteering as a blood source for someone else, too, huh? Either that or you've a very zealous lover on your hands.
[In regards to the bruises. At least her feeding is simple and comes with minimal damage thanks to the sharpness of her teeth -- it could definitely have been worse. And she's been getting better at figuring out how to do it with little, if any, pain involved to the donor, though physical distractions like rubbing the shoulder or... other things are just as effective.
She doesn't wait for a response before sinking her teeth in. It's hard to say if he'll be all right in the long run, but for as long as he's here, at least it's possible to keep him a step above despair, if a step below hope at the same time. If he hasn't the energy left to hope for a clean solution anymore, then she'll let her own hope quietly burn in the background for the time being.]
[Her comment about his bruising gets a huff of a breath, and a dry murmur.]
You wouldn't expect a puca of all things, to be so bloodthirsty.
[But despite his prompting, he's in no rush to move, not really. Emet-Selch rarely was in the mood to move at all, and Irhya's presence with him was- not unpleasant. Even if it should've been, for the reminders she brought, for the answers that were impossible to supply. For the hope she seemed to imply she had in him... and what a strange thing that was. As if she'd prefer him to survive, despite what that would mean for his own version of their star... that she would have more hope for him than he did.
But there was a trace of comfort there all the same, whenever he wasn't too irritated or frustrated to notice it- as though finding in her a specific sort of company he hadn't had in- well. Not since she'd been whole and another person entirely.
Irhya's fangs sink in, and he holds still; it didn't hurt, and even if it had, pain was hardly a problem. But her delicacy and precision was also appealing, and for as melancholy as the mood was- this in itself was a form of reassurance. A quiet sort of intimacy.
His voice is barely a vibration in his throat, not wanting to disturb her.]
But you can talk to me... whenever you like. [A pause; a breath that barely stirs him.] I wouldn't mind.
[A puca... ah. Well, she's not that savvy on their dietary needs, but whatever works. The quiet admission earmarked for her has her lifting her head, though, looking askance at him as if surprised. It is... a kind gesture, more than she thought she'd get from him. Perhaps her assumption that he's reserved but not totally, irreparably detached isn't too far off? For better or for worse.]
...Thank you.
[She offers him a sincere smile, then gets back to work since the wound is still bleeding and she's not quite finished. Even so... maybe they'll just end up staying here for a while afterward, knowing him and his disinclination to exert himself. All in all, it was a productive use of her time, and his too, she hopes. After the shattering of their Bond, she just wants to try and prove she's not the miserable person he saw lashing out at her mother anymore, nor the self-indulgent villain who put to death his noble ambitions.
It will take time... but it seems she has plenty of that on her hands these days.]
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no subject
[Though she isn't really sure if an apology is necessary, all things considered. She does enjoy just laying here in his company, but she did also ask him to do it with a purpose that she's been putting off. So, letting out a breath, she brushes her hair aside and wrenches his collar down a bit so she can kiss and lick at the spot a few times.]
Guess you've been volunteering as a blood source for someone else, too, huh? Either that or you've a very zealous lover on your hands.
[In regards to the bruises. At least her feeding is simple and comes with minimal damage thanks to the sharpness of her teeth -- it could definitely have been worse. And she's been getting better at figuring out how to do it with little, if any, pain involved to the donor, though physical distractions like rubbing the shoulder or... other things are just as effective.
She doesn't wait for a response before sinking her teeth in. It's hard to say if he'll be all right in the long run, but for as long as he's here, at least it's possible to keep him a step above despair, if a step below hope at the same time. If he hasn't the energy left to hope for a clean solution anymore, then she'll let her own hope quietly burn in the background for the time being.]
no subject
You wouldn't expect a puca of all things, to be so bloodthirsty.
[But despite his prompting, he's in no rush to move, not really. Emet-Selch rarely was in the mood to move at all, and Irhya's presence with him was- not unpleasant. Even if it should've been, for the reminders she brought, for the answers that were impossible to supply. For the hope she seemed to imply she had in him... and what a strange thing that was. As if she'd prefer him to survive, despite what that would mean for his own version of their star... that she would have more hope for him than he did.
But there was a trace of comfort there all the same, whenever he wasn't too irritated or frustrated to notice it- as though finding in her a specific sort of company he hadn't had in- well. Not since she'd been whole and another person entirely.
Irhya's fangs sink in, and he holds still; it didn't hurt, and even if it had, pain was hardly a problem. But her delicacy and precision was also appealing, and for as melancholy as the mood was- this in itself was a form of reassurance. A quiet sort of intimacy.
His voice is barely a vibration in his throat, not wanting to disturb her.]
But you can talk to me... whenever you like. [A pause; a breath that barely stirs him.] I wouldn't mind.
no subject
...Thank you.
[She offers him a sincere smile, then gets back to work since the wound is still bleeding and she's not quite finished. Even so... maybe they'll just end up staying here for a while afterward, knowing him and his disinclination to exert himself. All in all, it was a productive use of her time, and his too, she hopes. After the shattering of their Bond, she just wants to try and prove she's not the miserable person he saw lashing out at her mother anymore, nor the self-indulgent villain who put to death his noble ambitions.
It will take time... but it seems she has plenty of that on her hands these days.]