...When we return to my room, I will explain better, Alex.
[The tone is not unexpected. Human blood has fed him for years, and will for many more years to come, but never without their consent. Not that many would assume as such, and for good reason. How might a lamb trust a wolf? The body language, though, is far kinder than he'd expect.
And that is enough for his decision.
Eventually, they do make their arrival to Alucard's room. It is one of the family rooms, but not yet used from the looks of it. It's not as if Alucard has any belongings to place inside, but he hasn't opted to use the bed yet, either.
As the door closes, Alucard turns and faces Alex, taking the bucket and placing it aside for now. He raises his hands, slowly unworking the zipper to the jumpsuit.
And he pushes off the top to show his wound on his chest. One single strike, barely scabbed over, looking to tear open again at any moment. A normal man would not have lived.]
If I were under more favorable circumstances, I would sleep for months to allow this to heal with a healthy stock of blood at my disposal.
But we are not in such a position. It is hard to control when I sleep, and I must be awake and prepared for others. My strength is but a shred of what it should be.
no subject
[The tone is not unexpected. Human blood has fed him for years, and will for many more years to come, but never without their consent. Not that many would assume as such, and for good reason. How might a lamb trust a wolf? The body language, though, is far kinder than he'd expect.
And that is enough for his decision.
Eventually, they do make their arrival to Alucard's room. It is one of the family rooms, but not yet used from the looks of it. It's not as if Alucard has any belongings to place inside, but he hasn't opted to use the bed yet, either.
As the door closes, Alucard turns and faces Alex, taking the bucket and placing it aside for now. He raises his hands, slowly unworking the zipper to the jumpsuit.
And he pushes off the top to show his wound on his chest. One single strike, barely scabbed over, looking to tear open again at any moment. A normal man would not have lived.]
If I were under more favorable circumstances, I would sleep for months to allow this to heal with a healthy stock of blood at my disposal.
But we are not in such a position. It is hard to control when I sleep, and I must be awake and prepared for others. My strength is but a shred of what it should be.
Do you understand?