Adore me, Hold me and explore me
The scent hits her first—coppery and thick, rising hot into the air—and Charlie’s blue eyes darken with instinct, a primal spark flickering in their depths. The heat of it, the steady flow, it sings to something wild inside her, and for an instant she aches to bow her head, to press her mouth to the wound and drink until she knows the butcher’s taste. But while restraint is not a virtue she bothers with often, for Asta’s sake she keeps her hunger on a leash, every ounce of her focus pouring into the steadiness of her hands and the care in her touch.
"I know," she purrs, her voice low and soothing, the dagger balanced easily in one hand while the other glides along his cheek. Fingertips trace slow, calming strokes over his skin, a tactile comfort meant to anchor him through the dizziness, the sting, the lightheaded lull of blood leaving too quickly. She’s keenly aware of the sharpened danger of his teeth should he snap his jaws, but in this room especially, consequences aren't something Charlie is particularly worried by.
"You’re doing so good," she croons, her grin soft as silk while her tail tightens its grip on the lace. It grows heavier by the second, soaked through, each crimson bloom spreading wider until the fabric clings sodden in her hold. "We’re nearly halfway. Just a little longer." Her tone is coaxing, steady, even as she notes the slowing cadence of his heart, the way it forces each fresh wave to take more effort to come.
Her body leans closer, warm and unyielding behind his head, a constant presence as blood weeps down into the waiting lace, as her tail steadies the holy work. Adoring, determined, she will see him through every last drop they need.
"I know," she purrs, her voice low and soothing, the dagger balanced easily in one hand while the other glides along his cheek. Fingertips trace slow, calming strokes over his skin, a tactile comfort meant to anchor him through the dizziness, the sting, the lightheaded lull of blood leaving too quickly. She’s keenly aware of the sharpened danger of his teeth should he snap his jaws, but in this room especially, consequences aren't something Charlie is particularly worried by.
"You’re doing so good," she croons, her grin soft as silk while her tail tightens its grip on the lace. It grows heavier by the second, soaked through, each crimson bloom spreading wider until the fabric clings sodden in her hold. "We’re nearly halfway. Just a little longer." Her tone is coaxing, steady, even as she notes the slowing cadence of his heart, the way it forces each fresh wave to take more effort to come.
Her body leans closer, warm and unyielding behind his head, a constant presence as blood weeps down into the waiting lace, as her tail steadies the holy work. Adoring, determined, she will see him through every last drop they need.
Mark your territory, Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one
Hella golden retriever energy. Small unrefined horns made of ruby. Regular spade-shaped tail.
