Concern Or Craving?

Walking up the stairs Markus slowly stretches out. His eyes narrow slightly as he looks around and hmms softly. A soft bulge appears in his mouth as he runs his tongue over his teeth, and his black leather hands come together, tapping his fingers against each other softly.

Curled up in the blankets and sheets she'd carried back up with her after a major portion of this level of the hotel had come crashing down on the basement and she'd been sent back up to the wreckage, the honey-skinned latina sleeps quietly. The covers are pulled up close about her, having made a veritable cocoon for herself. Though she sleeps quietly enough, her eyes dart back and forth beneath her eyelids, brow furrowing as dreams disrupt her sleep.

Hmming softly as he sees the sleeping form of the girl, Markus tilts his head slightly. Eyes narrowing, he begins to approach her as quietly as he can. His lips purse slightly and, if it could, his stomach rumbles - psychologically. His fingers unlace from each other, one hand resting on his stomach, the black gloved fingers tapping against his torso. His other hand rests idly at his side. He watches the young girl sleep for a moment, deciding how deep asleep she is, and if she would wake up if he decided to feed from her.

The man gets his answer swoon enough as she gives a sharp shudder in her sleep and a murmured protest to whatever it is that molests her sleep. There are only a few more moments where the silent murmurs grow more frantic and then she sits straight up in panic, her eyes blinkingly searching the darkness and seeing nothing but vague outlines as her heart races and she looses her upper body from the sheets and blankets to press her hand to her chest as if it would help still the pounding.

"Good evening, Miss Yasmira." Markus murmurs as he watches the girl flinch up. A soft snicker is elicited from his lips as he bends down near towards her. "Nightmares I take into account? I saw you…struggling." Tilting his head a little bit he smiles, somewhat reassuringly to the girl and shrugs up his shoulders a little bit. "There are stressful times…" The man murmurs.

"Oh…Mister Freydstadt," murmurs the young latina in reply at recognizing the voice of the man, relief there, though a hesitance as she nods in admitting, "Yes…nightmares. Black dreams..bad memories. But they came before the vines." She smiles a little weakly as she leans back to her cushiony pile. Her hands reach up to rub the sleep from her eyes as she looks about groggily, accent all the thicker for having just woke up, "I…there is no one else about?"

"No one but me…" The man says softly. He watches the latina for a moment, making a judgement call in his head. A soft smirk plays across his lips. "Ah, troubled life? I shall not pry. Nightmares have long escaped me…" The man chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders a little bit. He continues to be crouched next to her and purses his lips. "Tired?"

A faint nod comes from the young woman as her hands move back down to rest at her stomach and she gazes off into the darkness past Markus now, "A little tired, but not so much. It is just much has happened and moreso…much has hapened before the city fell. I did not only start to learn with blade and gun at the sprouting of the jungle." She doesn't go into detail, though her brow furrows faintly and she holds her midsection just a little more firmly.

"Mmm…" Markus murmurs as he listens to the girl. He nods his head somewhat sympathetically to her, or in the act thereof. He chuckles a little bit and crouches down a little more. He peers at her for a moment and then says softly. "Yasmira, you look awfully tired. Why don't you try going back to -sleep-." There's an added emphasis to the last word of the sentence. (2 successes, dominate)

Eyes growing instantly heavy, the young hispanic woman slumps limply atop her pile of blankets and sheets at Markus's words. Her head lolls somewhat to one side from the angle and a soft purring sound is heard from her, apparently the most of a snore that comes from the young woman.

"Pardon me Yasmira, but we all have to eat and sometimes I chose the easy way out." He says this very quietly and almost to himself. Slowly he moves over to the side that her head is facing away from and he opens his mouth. His canines elongate into fangs and leans down over her. Dismissing the usual tactics of kissing, licking, and biting her neck as some sort of foreplay like appetizer, Markus goes straight for the entree. Pressing his fangs against her neck, he slowly applies pressure to allow them to sink in. Then, placing his mouth over the area to create a seal he begins to drink, just a little bit to somewhat calm his hunger.

Only the faintest whimper escapes the unnaturally sleeping young woman, her form otherwise lax and yielding. Her eyes remain closed and indeed, sleep she does, despite the fact she's become Markus's meal.

After a few moments, Markus releases her from the Kiss. He gently licks at the two little puncture holes until they disappear, and also licks at any stray blood. With that he stands up and moves over to a pile of laundry to a towel from, before walking back to Yasmira. He inspects her closely to see that there is no blood left on her neck, before he begins to dab rather daintly at his lips. "Good night Yasmira, and thank you." He snickers softly and begins to make his way back down to the Elysium.

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