[Gen is right about one thing, at least. When Liem’s gaze slides back over to the pretty, sharp-fanged young lady sitting at the bar, the line of his mouth thins a little at the focus of her stare. Gen is just the sort of person a vampire would love to run into in a place like this: big and hearty, and more interested in a good time than in making wise decisions. Like hell is Liem going to just send him off with a wave while he goes off to get snacked on by some hungry vampiress.]

I’d be obligated to object, yes.

[Being the closest thing here to an actual responsible adult, despite being in the midst of a liquor-fuelled bender — which Liem seems to remain committed to, as he takes another sip from his umpteenth glass. Maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal to Gen if Liem took a little drink from him… but that doesn’t mean some strange vampire woman is automatically worthy of being trusted to get her fangs into him instead.]

It feels like being bitten. [Tipping his glass until he’s drained it, Liem sets it down with a click and pushes himself to his feet. If he sways a little as he straightens, that’s probably just because of the wobbliness of getting up from two seat cushions stacked on top of each other.] So it depends on if you like that.

[Which, again, he has no intention of asking Gen about. Why do lonely, depressed men keep asking him to drink their blood, though? This is the second time in half a year. Are Kenos’s shard-bearers okay?

(No. No they are not.)]

Do you still want me to do it?