[ Felix can't see the moment Dimitri's teeth sink into his neck, but he feels it clear as day. His fingers curl tightly around the collar of his shirt, knuckles white (from tension) and red (from the warm blood that messily spills from the wound) as he keeps the fabric away from Dimitri's face. His senses go haywire - the slurps and gulps are louder than usual, and he can practically taste his own blood on his tongue, the metallic scent heavy in the air.
It's almost too much for him to handle, but, as usual, he waits until he begins feeling light-headed, keeping his breathing as steady and calm as possible while his other hand rests uselessly in his lap. ] Dimitri. [ They've done this enough times that they both know what that means.
Once released from the bite, Felix leans against Dimitri and grimaces at the slickness of his skin. Parts of his shirt are damp to the touch now, soaked in blood. It's disgusting. ] Must you be so messy? [ Honestly. ]
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It's almost too much for him to handle, but, as usual, he waits until he begins feeling light-headed, keeping his breathing as steady and calm as possible while his other hand rests uselessly in his lap. ] Dimitri. [ They've done this enough times that they both know what that means.
Once released from the bite, Felix leans against Dimitri and grimaces at the slickness of his skin. Parts of his shirt are damp to the touch now, soaked in blood. It's disgusting. ] Must you be so messy? [ Honestly. ]