[ how can he say no after that? guren has practically demanded something of him that he was going to do anyway, with that desirous look in his eyes—and so dextera will follow through.
there’s nothing he can do but this.
he slices across guren’s chest, and before he’s even done, the blood is dripping from the cut he’s left—it’s a little too wide to start with beading, thanks to the imperfect edge of the stone, but it cuts as surely as a knife would. dextera’s heart pounds, and he moves his hand over the edge of the new wound, smearing guren’s blood across his chest, across dextera’s own palm. ]
Guren.
[ that quiet voice, that hunger again—he doesn’t know why he wants this so badly. ]
no subject
there’s nothing he can do but this.
he slices across guren’s chest, and before he’s even done, the blood is dripping from the cut he’s left—it’s a little too wide to start with beading, thanks to the imperfect edge of the stone, but it cuts as surely as a knife would. dextera’s heart pounds, and he moves his hand over the edge of the new wound, smearing guren’s blood across his chest, across dextera’s own palm. ]
Guren.
[ that quiet voice, that hunger again—he doesn’t know why he wants this so badly. ]