♪ Through the small silence between the two, Taemin’s heart began racing yet again and it was so loud in his ears— so loud that he was afraid Francesco could hear it. It was no secret that he was afraid and it was hard trying to mask his feelings by now, especially when he knew he had other things to worry and think about. As he listened to the male speak, the warm fingers that were wrapped around the pale wrist of his finally let go, his hand dropping into his lap. If he had been in the right mind he would have easily shoved the male away, maybe even made a run for the door if he could, but he wasn’t in the right state of mind. “I—” He started to speak, voice a mere whisper, though he couldn’t find the right words to say. It was true what Francesco had said about friends and he was always one to be there for someone when they needed it most, but this felt different. Nonetheless he silently tipped his head back even further as the other moves in, a hand suddenly reaching up to grasp onto his shirt. With his fingers curling into the fabric, a shiver ran down his spine as he felt the breath of the others on his neck. By then Taemin was speechless, maybe even a little dazed, and he simply laid there. He was still afraid and despite his words he couldn’t relax. “Francesco..” He murmured out very quietly, gaze fixed on the black hair of his.
The fragile skin which tried to protect veins of rushing blood was pale—not as pale as his own pallor, but pale, yes… and warm. He could feel the warmth emanating from the living flesh. Life had a beauty of its own, and for a moment his eyes fluttered nearly closed, breathing in the faint scent of fresh blood that this young man carried within. Feeding whilst out and about in the night, going from club to club, did not offer the luxury of enjoying it to the fullest. “Mmh…?” he hummed out, a low growled sound in the back of his throat even as the tone of his hum was as black velvet. “Relax…” he whispered out against his skin. “This will be over soon”, he added under his breath, before parting his lips, letting them brush over skin, whilst his hand, oh it took a hold of Taemin’s shoulder. Keeping him still, keeping him upright, firmly but without hurting him. in the loaded silence between them, the tip of his tongue met skin, before he breathed in, and tilting his head, sharp fangs touched, they grazed, they instinctively found the pulse of blood behind the curtains of skin, and… slowly, so slowly, like a held breath, he sank sharp tips into skin; pierced it and buried deep, breaking into flesh and veins. And it bloomed into his mouth as crimson wine of the richest flavour, as his lips closed over the wound he had created, and he swallowed the first mouthful of Taemin’s life.
