Elizaveta: Holding his head against me, I am caught in the sweetness of his touches. I don’t know what I’d been thinking. Feeling the frantic need. The desperate wanting. His softness and gentleness are just right. I push his hair back so I can gaze into his unwavering blue eyes. And am shocked to see the thin red trickle of his tear. Capturing it with one finger, I unthinkingly bring that tear to my lips.
Dafyd: Caught in the emotion and need of the moment, I did not realize her action until it was done. Her body and soul acting on centuries-old habit and instinct. In an act of intimacy and passion, she had tasted my blood. “The blood is never to be wasted.” How many times she had told me that. And now, serving to remind me of our time together. Sharing our bodies – sharing our blood. That solitary act of binding. It is all I can do to not complete the circuit. My fangs perfectly itch with the need to taste her.
