Two of a Kind

As Isla slipped her fangs from his neck, he let out a breathless sigh. His eyes remained closed as he attempted to compose himself. Dark eyes fluttered open and struggled to focus at first before he looked upon the healer sitting over him. Blood, his blood dripping over the side of her lips. As she spoke the words he had to her, the night he took her essence, Archebold brought his hands to his chest and ripped open the buttons with a single tug. "You're not finished are you?" The he would ask, before taking the sharp end of his slender pinky finger and slicing across his chest. "There's more if you'll have it..." Fangs flickered in and out of his quivering lips. His hand raising to brush against her neck, and along her cheek. Had Isla appeared lured by the sensation she just freed herself from, Archebold was prepared to capitalize. Had she accepted the offer, lured by the chance to feel that feeling again, and believe she was punishing the ascended...Archebold would plunge her into his chest to bite down on the wound he cut open for her. Breathless he would sigh again, one hand clutching her hair as he would hold her lips against his chest, as the free hand would slowly raise her wrist to his own lips. This of course, was banking the lure had worked...Archebold would raise Isla's wrist to his lips as he bit down gently onto it. Lips would tighten around Isla's wrist as he rested her fingers against his cheek. There were few things Archebold would admit ignorance to. After all he's lived decades beyond most, and held a wealth of knowledge of culture, life, philosophy and other practical needs...but never had he ever felt anything as primal as the moment shared with Isla. She could drain his life completely and he would have allowed it, she earned it. It wasn't a warrior or mage, shapechanger or god that bested the ascended. It was a healer, hidden in a veil of desire before plunging into her pool of vengeance...only was that really what had happened? Or was there something more. A mixture of volatile components that somehow stayed stable. Did she find herself swimming, diving further down into the dark she perhaps thought she was chasing him down? archebold Death is not a defeat. It is a cure.