tagon isn’t expecting company. he’s been so thirsty the last few days and he’d finally had an opportunity to swipe one of the blood bags from work. sneaking it home is always the worst part, and the second he’d walked through his front door he’d had to resist the urge to tear it open and drain the entire thing in seconds. he can’t afford to spill any of it, he has to take his time. needless to say, when he hears his doorbell ring, he jumps out of his skin so violently he almost drops it. shit. shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. ❝ uh... just a second! ❞ he calls out, hoping whoever’s on the other side can hear him as he panics and tries to figure out what to do. there’s blood on his mouth, blood still left in the bag, he’s sure there must be some on his floor by now. shit.
the next few seconds feel like hours. he drains the rest of the bag like he’s in some kind of eating competition and hides the evidence as best he can ( because he can’t exactly put it in the trash when whoever his guest is might end up throwing something away ), sprints to the kitchen sink to rinse his mouth ( and says a silent prayer in thanks that he managed not to spill anything on the floor ) before he finally opens the door, hoping he doesn’t look as flustered as he feels. ❝ hey, sorry, i was... in the middle of something. ❞
@wedust











