[That request takes Chuuya completely off-guard, and he stops dead in his tracks. Shell really must be drunk to be so open about his hunger; all of the shame he’d felt before about what he is and his need for blood seem to have taken a backseat to satisfying that need, and Chuuya can’t say he’s upset about it.
There’s no use denying what you really are, after all, even if you don’t have to embrace it.]
I drank a lot too. You might get even more drunk from my blood.
[Yet Chuuya isn’t protesting as perches himself on the edge of the couch with a curious look. He did say he’d be Shell’s source, after all.]
How do you want to do it?
[He asks oh so casually, as if he isn’t about to be fed upon.]
no subject
There’s no use denying what you really are, after all, even if you don’t have to embrace it.]
I drank a lot too. You might get even more drunk from my blood.
[Yet Chuuya isn’t protesting as perches himself on the edge of the couch with a curious look. He did say he’d be Shell’s source, after all.]
How do you want to do it?
[He asks oh so casually, as if he isn’t about to be fed upon.]