"You want some?"
I gazed at his palm and I swallowed down. To be truthful, I would happily lick his hand clean. Even though my mind told me 'no, that was disgusting and perverse,' I still wanted to. No, actually, it felt like it was more of a primal need, a necessity than just a simple want.
Was this how Harriet felt that night? This intense thirst that was enough for one to lose their reasons? That all we could think was this blood and how precious it was. It also smelled so pleasant; even more appetizing than a luxurious steak.
I was hungry, thirsty. I felt like losing my mind. My instinct was telling me I needed this, I deserved this, that I should have it. I reached for Yves' hand after staring at it for a long time.
