Shh.

[The soothing, comforting noise that escapes his throat surprises even him as soon as he makes it; that wasn't him, not exactly, but it was, and that's...strange.]

I think — I think Sanguis is...made to take care of you. Iris. I feel...

[He hesitates, lost for words. Sentences that start with I feel are always so complicated, and this situation already feels like it's spiraling out of control and he's just along for the ride no matter what he does.]

I'm going crazy because I can tell there's something wrong. Like I can't help it. Like if I don't take care of you I'll lose my mind. But that's — Sanguis. And Iris.

[He closes his eyes, another of those little growls falling from his lips without meaning to.]

I need to know what you want me to do. If you need...that. Or I can try to calm you down without it.