Bright sunlight greeted his vision when he awoke, his eyes opening just slightly to allow a little bit of light through. Ah, good. It was morning. Time to get up. Abel tried to sit, but was struck violently by a sharp pain just below his ribs, forcing a groan from him as he relaxed once more against the sheets of his bed. Strange... He couldn't remember having gone to bed in these clothes... The sensation of bandages beneath the shirt brought last night's events crashing down upon him like a ton of lead weights and he shuddered to think how horrible it had been, and what all those people must think.
He looked around, finding that his hair was still untied and that his glasses were on the table beside him. A head of blond hair rested on the sheets beside him, the owner of that hair clearly asleep. Abel smiled softly, and gently reached over to shake her awake. "Asthe... Asthe, wake up..." She stirred, sat up in the chair she had been sitting in, and looked up to meet the blue eyes of Abel.
"Priest. You're all right," she looked so entirely grateful, Abel could only assume that she hadn't thought he was going to survive. With a quick glance, as if to see if anyone else was in the room with them, she embraced Abel tightly, her breath shaky against his shoulder as she fought back tears, refusing to allow them to show as if he may think she was weak. It was quite the opposite, actually, as he was surprised that she had held them back this long; Esther had been weeping as he was carried up here.
Finally, she let go, skin reddened ever so slightly, but that, too, was forced back deep inside her. "I'm sorry... I didn't hurt you did I?"
"Of course not. I'll be fine in a few days. It's going to take more than that to kill a Krusnik."
"Any further up and it would have struck your heart, Abel... That would have killed a Methuselah... You could have told me what you were. It doesn't matter to me..."
"Yes, and I'm sorry for keeping it from you. Where is Esther? And the Earl?"
"Esther has gone to discuss what the guests saw at the party with the council. The entire city is in an uproar after they found out what you were. The Earl of Memphis is here, but he hasn't been the same since then."
"The entire city? But, it's only been a few hours..."
"Abel... You've been asleep for two days." Abel's eyes widened, his lips opened to speak, but he said nothing. "You've recovered well, though. Most of the damaged tissue has repaired. Don't worry about it." Abel nodded. "But..." she edged closer, "You would heal faster after drinking the blood of a Methuselah, wouldn't you?" Astharoshe's expression was entirely serious, and Abel turned his head to gaze back, his expression equally serious.
"Asthe, You don't have to do that for me. I'll be all right without it." She shook her head in response,
"Isn't the job of a Tovarishch to give their life at a moment's notice? Abel, my partner... I'll give my own blood to you. Don't worry about me," she smiled, "I have plenty more where it comes from, and you don't. Please. Accept my offer." It seemed she was unwilling to back down from her final decision, and nothing Abel could do or say would sway her opinion. Abel sighed softly, and finally whispered under his breath,
"Nanomachine Krusnik 02. Operation output 5 percent. Activate." The only change made this time were his canines, which lengthened like that of a Methuselah before a meal to razor sharp points. Astharoshe leaned over Abel on the bed, nearly leaning against him as she placed one hand on either side of his waist. The blond-haired Methuselah extended her neck, exposing the large vein there for him to do his work. Any puncture wound would heal over in a matter of seconds anyway.