[Being fed from, it's hard to be cognizant of anything at all. Distantly, there's the awareness of further contact to his shoulder, sure, but presently there's the sensation of pleasure from the bite, the impulse to accept, to welcome any further desire from someone in a position to simply take and take--
And then Charlie is gone, suddenly, and his body pulls back instead of following after him, despite just how empty and adrift the lack of contact leaves him feeling.
In a mirror to the house punishing Charlie for touch, it seems to also punish Miraj for the lack of it - his marking shimmer brighter in the dim light, and he nearly misses the question asked of him for all the questions already swirling around his own mind. Had he done something wrong? Clearly he caused some displeasure, but what? And what could he do to fix it? He nearly reaches out to re-initiate contact himself, in some effort to fix it, but Charlie's own question does reach him, and does ground him just enough that he doesn't, choosing instead to pick it apart, to give an almost uncharacteristically honest answer.]
I wasn't thinking about you, just now.
[He'd been... fine... while he was. But as soon as he'd retreated into the sensation of the bite, as soon as that had been coupled with further physicality, it seemed it had been a problem.
...So he'd been forced to give Charlie a piece that would, given what was already known of him, allow him to put entirely too much together.
no subject
And then Charlie is gone, suddenly, and his body pulls back instead of following after him, despite just how empty and adrift the lack of contact leaves him feeling.
In a mirror to the house punishing Charlie for touch, it seems to also punish Miraj for the lack of it - his marking shimmer brighter in the dim light, and he nearly misses the question asked of him for all the questions already swirling around his own mind. Had he done something wrong? Clearly he caused some displeasure, but what? And what could he do to fix it? He nearly reaches out to re-initiate contact himself, in some effort to fix it, but Charlie's own question does reach him, and does ground him just enough that he doesn't, choosing instead to pick it apart, to give an almost uncharacteristically
honest answer.]
I wasn't thinking about you, just now.
[He'd been... fine... while he was. But as soon as he'd retreated into the sensation of the bite, as soon as that had been coupled with further physicality, it seemed it had been a problem.
...So he'd been forced to give Charlie a piece that would, given what was already known of him, allow him to put entirely too much together.
Annoying.]