#a.ver.

             “Y’know what I really want? I want someone to romance me-- no sex, no kissing. Just... woo me, completely innocently. Dates, cliche gifts, long nights spent under the stars, long walks on the beach... I want that. Is that weird?”

       “But now I’m thinkin’ about having a boyfriend. Damn...”

       “I know I’m pretty, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

           “So tired--....” Sigh.

       “Don’t run away from me, darling. I only want a taste--” There is a wicked grin plastered upon blood-stained lips, ruby eyes flickering over the bleeding form of his current prey; they have one of his blades currently pierced cleaned through a shoulder, and their hair is matted to their neck where he’d left a deep bite mark and left it bleeding. But now he’s having a little fun-- playing with his food. “If you’d just behave, I wouldn’t have to keep hurting you.”

Guess who’d gotten drunken again, and once more lost among the city? That’s right, this little elf. And now, with the alcohol wearing off and leaving exhaustion and ache again, he’s crying, though he doesn’t entirely realize it as he crawls through the streets, his fingers rubbing at his cheeks as he sniffles, looking for a place to perch for the night to sleep.

So maybe he shouldn’t be drinking as much as he is, but what does it matter when some guy at the back of the bar is buying him drinks, supplying him with the one thing he knows can make him forget, even if for only a night. So as tears streak down his cheeks, he takes a shot -- and then another, and then another, and then three more after that.

“I’m dying for some deep kisses right now...”