Not the soft, apprehensive expression his lips were accustomed to but rather something darkly amused and self-satisfied. The better part of him, now dormant, would've dismissed the apology in a heartbeat. But as he currently was, he enjoyed gloating at Dorian's lack of understanding. It just added another level of superiority to his position.
His fingers toyed with the hem of Dorian's shirt, tugging at it and idly trying to reveal more of that silky skin. He didn't bother to force this action, rather if Dorian's grip on his wrist allowed it to happen then it would. Whilst he wondered what the flavour of his blood would be like from its font in his neck, another part of him couldn’t help but consider how a long, exaggerated lick of a gash along that slim middle would taste too.
Alucard's eyes were trained on Dorian, watching, waiting for him to flinch or recoil. For the pressure to simply get too much and for him to try something foolish or rash. Eagerly awaiting an excuse to force his hand. And whilst he noticed microexpressions, tiny hints of concern or... something else (excitement?) he still hadn't provoked the outburst he was hoping for.
So he tried a different tactic. ]
Then why don't we make a deal, mage.
Satiate me, with you blood--[ A beat passes as he very obviously gives Dorian's body a slow once over. ]--or with your body, and you may yet live.
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Not the soft, apprehensive expression his lips were accustomed to but rather something darkly amused and self-satisfied. The better part of him, now dormant, would've dismissed the apology in a heartbeat. But as he currently was, he enjoyed gloating at Dorian's lack of understanding. It just added another level of superiority to his position.
His fingers toyed with the hem of Dorian's shirt, tugging at it and idly trying to reveal more of that silky skin. He didn't bother to force this action, rather if Dorian's grip on his wrist allowed it to happen then it would. Whilst he wondered what the flavour of his blood would be like from its font in his neck, another part of him couldn’t help but consider how a long, exaggerated lick of a gash along that slim middle would taste too.
Alucard's eyes were trained on Dorian, watching, waiting for him to flinch or recoil. For the pressure to simply get too much and for him to try something foolish or rash. Eagerly awaiting an excuse to force his hand. And whilst he noticed microexpressions, tiny hints of concern or... something else (excitement?) he still hadn't provoked the outburst he was hoping for.
So he tried a different tactic. ]
Then why don't we make a deal, mage.
Satiate me, with you blood--[ A beat passes as he very obviously gives Dorian's body a slow once over. ]--or with your body, and you may yet live.