"I can tell you’re hot and bothered from all the way over here~" [if you don't mind this c:>]
@seventh-progenitor-ferid-bathory
Mikaela's eyes are fixed upon the noble who stands just feet away with one of the most confident smirks the human has seen to date. Mika is young in comparison to him and still very much a victim to his hormones, much to his own chagrin. It's awfully humiliating how little control he has over them too - right now he'd honestly rather the ground swallowed him up.
Instead, Ferid's there, reminding him, with that irritating sing-song voice of his, of how easily his body is affected, as if the heat of his body isn't enough.
The palm of the blond's hand is still pressed against the puncture wounds on his neck where blood still trickles thanks to his quickened pulse. It's not the first time Ferid has taken his blood - by now he's getting used to it - but it's never affected him like this before.
Never has he relaxed so much beneath his hold, or felt the unfamiliar rush of something other than disgust, something more akin to excitement.
And that sound - that damned sound that had slipped past his lips still haunts him, resonating in his mind alongside the intriqued hum it had drawn from Ferid in response.
He had, of course, immediately pushed him away, placing as much distance between them both as he could, shooting a weak glare across the room the moment Ferid had dared to call him out on it.
"I'm not!" He snaps back, though the blush dusting his cheeks tells another story.
