It's always so easy to go overboard when she drinks from a person. Maybe that's why she doesn't like it, in truth; it brings to mind all the times her control was stripped away, the things she hides in the dark. Maybe it makes her more compassionate, too.
Whatever the case, she's gentle with him, the barest pressure of her lips and tongue picking up the pooling blood beneath them. Tinny and warm, and not... not as bad as she usually thinks. Whether that's because of the donor or the night sky, she doesn't know if she wants to know. With her eyes closed and his silent acceptance of this, she can just about pretend it's not a live body. Almost.
And before he can grow too dizzy from the blood loss, before the sensation gets too overwhelming for either party... Lilja pulls back, gasping softly as her teeth pull free of soft flesh and her tongue laps the blood one final time; it's a thin trickle, at least, already starting to clot. There's a faint flush to her face now, the cracks shoring up with the influx of blood. Not perfect, as if they're at once a marker for her hunger as well as unspoken scars. The noise she makes isn't the most pleased, but she can't help it. Imagine being a vampire who doesn't like the taste of most blood.
"Ugh... okay. I think... that's enough." Her lips are stained a brighter red in the centre from the task, head shaking. "Now how do I...?" Offer... energy, was that what he said? Something like that.
no subject
Whatever the case, she's gentle with him, the barest pressure of her lips and tongue picking up the pooling blood beneath them. Tinny and warm, and not... not as bad as she usually thinks. Whether that's because of the donor or the night sky, she doesn't know if she wants to know. With her eyes closed and his silent acceptance of this, she can just about pretend it's not a live body. Almost.
And before he can grow too dizzy from the blood loss, before the sensation gets too overwhelming for either party... Lilja pulls back, gasping softly as her teeth pull free of soft flesh and her tongue laps the blood one final time; it's a thin trickle, at least, already starting to clot. There's a faint flush to her face now, the cracks shoring up with the influx of blood. Not perfect, as if they're at once a marker for her hunger as well as unspoken scars. The noise she makes isn't the most pleased, but she can't help it. Imagine being a vampire who doesn't like the taste of most blood.
"Ugh... okay. I think... that's enough." Her lips are stained a brighter red in the centre from the task, head shaking. "Now how do I...?" Offer... energy, was that what he said? Something like that.