[Honestly, he wishes a bit that Trevor would let himself be more like this. Softer. Kinder. Even a little playful in this way. But that isn't his place to say or wish, everything is too late in so many ways. He knows that.]
Hold out your arm for me.
[The dhampir gently helps roll up Trevor's sleeve, wiping at the crook of his elbow with a dab of rubbing alcohol. He waits for it to dry, which isn't long at least.
He can practically hear his blood, if he pays enough attention.
The syringe goes in, and he pulls out enough that it could be considered more or less a shot of blood. The syringe is set aside for now, and he looks down at the blood beading up where he'd punctured flesh.
no subject
Hold out your arm for me.
[The dhampir gently helps roll up Trevor's sleeve, wiping at the crook of his elbow with a dab of rubbing alcohol. He waits for it to dry, which isn't long at least.
He can practically hear his blood, if he pays enough attention.
The syringe goes in, and he pulls out enough that it could be considered more or less a shot of blood. The syringe is set aside for now, and he looks down at the blood beading up where he'd punctured flesh.
Bending down, he drags his tongue over the spot.]
...Thank you.