He was out of blood.

The heart that had stopped beating in his chest weeks ago sunk. The little, plastic container in his cold hands was the last one left in his fridge. The congealed contents shook as he held it.

He'd known this day was coming, and soon. He'd spent the last four days trying to resign himself to that fact, yet he still couldn't get it through his head before it was too late.

He was out of blood, and he was hungry.

Starving.

He was almost positive that before he'd gotten the disease, he'd been sharp-witted and intelligent, but these days, all he felt buzzing in his mind was numbness and hunger. He couldn't think. He couldn't process that he was out of blood because he was too desperately hungry to think correctly. His hunger was all he could think about.

How stupid.

It was easier, he learned, to be stupid when you're weak. It becomes harder to fight and think so you don't fight or think at all. It's easier to be stupid than to let the sinking weight of your condition truly seep in. He let himself be hungry. He allowed himself the pain of it, rather than push against it.

The congealed mess made an indecent noise as it fell into the pot on the stove. He always hated that part - watching that pure, deep, crimson mass fall within the boiling water, diluting it, ruining it. It was an awful waste of such perfect, pristine blood, but he had to boil it down. He couldn't stand it cold and solid.

It was harder to resist the fantasies the longer he went on like this. At first it was horrifying, beyond his consideration but now, he couldn't help but think about the warmth of blood taken directly from its source every other waking minute. He imagined the smoothness of it - no clotting, no texture. The taste would be so strong, overwhelming his senses - filling his nose, his throat. It would be heavy and thick. He'd be able to feel its lovely essence of life flow through every part of him. It would be revitalizing, rejuvenating. Like resurrection.

He swayed dangerously. Taking up a chair, he sat, breathing heavily, and rubbing at a pounding headache. He couldn't stand for much more than a few minutes anymore.

He touched his lips to the skin of his arm, waiting for the blood to heat. He imagined the coldness of his skin as warm, pumping full of life. He imagined he could feel his veins flowing with the nectar he desired more than anything. He wanted to take it from himself, to give it back to himself.

Stupid.

He stood back up slowly, anticipating the sudden rush of nausea that followed. The room spun for a few moments while he looked down into the murky red water boiling on the stove.

He took the pot up in shaking hands, trying with all the strength he had not to drop it and burn himself. The contents flowed through a strainer into a bowl, clots catching in the wire. He picked up the bowl, blowing off steam, which carried with it the scent of diluted iron and bitterness.

He took a deep breath, then tipped the bowl over his lips, squeezing his eyes shut. The liquid burned his throat as he gulped it down, and he nearly gagged, perceptible clumps going down with it. A few drops of it flowed through the corner of his mouth and trickled down his face. He felt disgusting.

It was so hard to pretend like he was really drinking from a victim, but he tried as hard as he could to visualize it: the surface of warm skin, the taste of fresh blood, the frightened heartbeat of who he was stealing from. He couldn't do it. There was no skin, no freshness, no heartbeat. The blood was old and tasteless.

A harsh gasp filled the dingy kitchen when he finished, shakily putting the bowl back down. He panted, mouth salivating, tongue numb with burns.

The trail of blood over his face stained his white skin red. He rubbed at it with a washcloth, trying to distract himself from the fact that he was just as hungry as he had been minutes ago.

Tears spiked the corners of his red eyes. They followed the path down his face the blood had taken.

His stomach twisted. His condition had worsened so much. He couldn't go out in the sun without being zapped of energy. He looked too pale, too unnatural. He couldn't leave the house to buy any more blood from the butcher. He was stuck, left to waste away without sustenance.

That was unless he fell into his desires. The tears fell harder, his chest heaved. He didn't want to do it. He didn't want to hurt anyone. He'd been holding back for so long, drinking stale pig's blood so he wouldn't do what his kind was meant to. But he was weak now. It could only be a matter of time before he lost his inhibitions and attacked whatever living thing he could find.

He was so, so hungry; it was driving him insane.

His head jerked up suddenly at the sound of buzzing. He turned slowly and picked up his phone, wiping his face of tears to see the screen. His vision blurred with more tears when he realized who had called.

A shaky sigh fell from his lips as he laid the phone back down and let it ring out. He waited through the silence that followed, but closed his eyes when it was interrupted by more buzzing. Even though he never picked up the phone anymore, he still called every day.

"Shinji-kun..."

Kaworu's voice was hoarse from disuse.

It would be too unbearable to pick up the phone, even though the guilt of not doing so was unbearable enough already. He couldn't stand to hear Shinji's voice. It would be too tempting, too painful. Kaworu would never be able to see him again. He wouldn't let himself hurt him. Not the man he loved.

He picked up his phone as it buzzed, carrying it with him to his room. Kaworu stared at the screen, the five missed calls from Shinji displayed there so far. It was as close to Shinji as he could get.

He wished he could pass his will through the phone, make Shinji understand why he couldn't respond, why he was ignoring him. He knew Shinji must be so worried. It broke his heart to think he might assume Kaworu wasn't talking because he wanted to cut ties. He wanted Shinji to know that he was thinking of him every minute of every day, even though they hadn't talked in two weeks. He wanted to impress upon him how dearly he wanted to see him again. But he couldn't. It wasn't safe.

Curling up beneath his sheets, Kaworu listened to the buzzing of even more calls he'd miss, the sound ringing through his brain as he drifted off. Sleeping was one of the only good distractions from hunger. So, he succumbed as often as he could, even if it was the middle of the day. Anything to distract himself.

Anything to escape...

...

Kaworu could hear a voice calling out to him.

It must've been a dream. Even if it might not be real, he was happy, considering he hadn't dreamt at all since he came down with the condition.

It was Shinji's voice he could hear, echoing his name from some far-off place. He couldn't quite see, though the sound of his sweet voice alone filled him with a sense of bliss he hadn't felt in so long. Shinji's voice grew nearer, clearer. Kaworu thought he could melt from the way Shinji said his name - so full of emotion. He wanted more than anything to see him, and he must be right there, he sounded so close now. He still couldn't see, but he realized then he could open his eyes, but-

"Kaworu-kun...? It's... it's you, isn't it?"

Shinji's voice was still there, even though Kaworu's eyes were open.

He stared at his nightstand in shock. Someone had turned on his light, and they were standing in the doorway. Shinji was standing there.

Oh, no...

Kaworu couldn't stop himself from turning over in bed. He stared at the all-too-familiar figure in front of him. He felt everything inside of him slide downwards in dread.

Shinji's expression changed. The uncertain worry morphed into wide-eyed shock, and in the infinitesimal time it took for Shinji to realize what he was looking at, Kaworu could sense a shiver of cold fear flow through the room.

On instinct, Kaworu pushed himself up from the bed. Adrenaline pumped through his cold veins to offer him the strength he didn't have moments ago.

"K-Kaworu-kun..." Shinji's voice shook. His body tensed when Kaworu stood, wobbling. They went silent.

Then Kaworu rushed forward.

Shinji gasped and stumbled back outside the bedroom, but before he could turn and run, his foot caught on a side table in the hallway, and he fell over it. The wilting plant on its surface careened to and broke apart on the floor as Shinji slid over the table with a hiss of pain.

Before he could scramble up away, Kaworu had advanced, shoving Shinji's shoulders hard into the wall. Shinji was wide mouthed in horror. Kaworu saw the fear raging in his eyes as he shook his head.

"Wait! Please, please! You can't-!" Shinji wailed desperately.

Trapped within his desires, Kaworu couldn't make himself stop. It was all too much, he finally had a victim, a source of food. He couldn't think to stop now, not when he could feel the deliciously hard pumping of blood in the other man's veins. He could taste his fear, smell it in the air around him. It was so, so very tempting.

"No! Stop!" He shrieked as Kaworu forced his jaw upwards, Shinji trying hard to pull it back down to hide his neck. He scrambled desperately to cover it, to block Kaworu's panting mouth. Kaworu easily pinned his arms with his sudden strength.

Such warm skin. Such warm, lively, succulent skin. His mouth hovered over the man's neck. Feeling him struggle and fail to break free was exhilarating.

He was just about to puncture that delicate, smooth layer of skin until he breathed in and felt the man's scent flow through his sinuses. He paused, eyes widening. It was the scent of summer and clean soap and something earthy. The best thing he'd ever smelled in his life. His favorite scent.

"K-Kaworu-kun, please... don't..." The man was crying. Kaworu saw a tear stream down his neck.

Shinji.

Tears formed in Kaworu's own eyes. His grip suddenly loosened. Stars popped into his vision, blurring it black, and suddenly, numbness overtook him, and he fell into nothingness.

Oh, Shinji...

...

Kaworu awoke quickly this time. He fluttered his eyes open, head heavy with a familiar headache, but the moment his thoughts came back to him, he forced his head upwards, eyes wide open. He panted as if he'd just been running.

He stared around dizzyingly, before catching sight of a man standing tensely beside his couch, who stared back at him.

"Shinji-kun-" Kaworu broke off into a rasping cough, throat scratching horribly.

Shinji jerked oddly, as if he wanted to come closer and help, but forced himself not to. He watched with a wary look of concern.

When Kaworu finished hacking, he sighed, looking down at his body. He wiggled, realizing he was in the chair he'd left in the kitchen earlier, except now, duct tape bound his wrists and ankles to it. He blinked in confusion, then quickly looked back up at Shinji.

"I-I'm sorry... I thought you'd attack me again if you woke up. I just... just wanted to be safe."

Slack-jawed, Kaworu stared at him. Beneath the swirling tidal wave of emotions in his heart, he felt absolutely shocked Shinji was apologizing to him for anything right now.

He shook his head. "Shinji-kun... oh," Kaworu slackened in the chair, deflating from the weight of guilt. He'd attacked Shinji, he'd scared him half to death, threatened his life. "Why are you still here? Why haven't you run away? Don't you see what's happened to me?"

Shinji sighed; his eyes filled with a whole slew of emotions Kaworu was too slow to differentiate. "Yeah, I... I know what you are. I know what happened." He took a small step closer.

Kaworu shook his head again, his headache worsening. "Then why, Shinji-kun, why did you stay? I could've killed you and, and you're still here...?" He looked down at the floor. "Why did you come in the first place? How did you even make it inside?"

"All those weeks ago - you don't remember...?" Shinji looked crestfallen when Kaworu didn't answer. "I guess not. You must've had more important things to worry about... with this happening to you..."

Something was pulled out of his pocket. Kaworu looked at it. "I made myself a copy of your keys. Don't you remember why...?"

"We..." Kaworu felt a lump rise in his throat. He licked his dry lips as he went on. "We were going to move in together. Of course I remember. I was so excited."

"I would've come sooner, but these just got made today, and every time I tried to come in before, the door was locked." He slipped the keys back into his pocket, not breaking eye contact. "I was afraid of breaking a window in case you weren't actually here, and I was charged or something, but don't think I didn't consider that."

Shinji's voice rose suddenly, emotionally. "How could you think I'd just stop worrying about you, Kaworu-kun? No visits, no calls, not even texts - did you really think they'd stop me trying to talk to you?!" Tears formed in his eyes. "I love you! You know I do! How could I just forget you?!"

Kaworu swallowed down the lump in his throat, staring back at him. "Shinji-kun... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He looked down in shame. "I know that isn't enough to make this situation better, but you must understand why I didn't want you to know about this. I didn't want to get you hurt." He looked back up imploringly. "I couldn't have you trying to help me, I knew it would just hurt both of us." He sighed shakily, barely holding back from sobbing. "But I suppose it didn't matter either way, because here you are. It's a miracle I didn't kill you."

Shinji stepped closer. "I know it is. I'm grateful you stopped yourself."

"Hardly," Kaworu choked. "If I was any stronger than I am now, I'm sure I would've killed you."

They both fell silent. The tension in the air was suffocating. Kaworu hated it.

"When... When did it happen?"

Kaworu looked up at him again. He had to think hard. The past however many days felt like an absolute blur of hopelessness to him. "Three... Three weeks ago. I'm nearly certain now. I was at that Cafe we always liked to visit. It was late, so I don't think I was as attentive as usual. A man walked by my table, and I thought his hand passed close to my coffee, but I wasn't sure. I just brushed it off." Kaworu looked off into space. "I just brushed it off..." he closed his eyes. "I was so stupid."

Shinji watched him in horror. "He... put diseased blood in your cup?"

"It must have only been a drop; I couldn't taste it. Anyway, no one got wind of the drink spiking until nearly ten people were targeted - I saw it on the news a few nights later. And I... I just happened to be one of them.

"I saw myself changing, but I thought I was like that because I was sick. I didn't realize until it was too late that I couldn't see my reflection anymore."

Shinji covered his mouth when a little whimper escaped his lips.

"Y-You look so different now. Your hair, your eyes, everything..."

Kaworu felt his heart splinter. Never again would he be able to hear Shinji compliment his blonde hair, because it'd gone a lifeless silver. Nor the blue of his eyes. Shinji used to like that they had the same eye color, it made them feel closer, he said. Now they were red, a deep, ominous crimson.

He felt a tear fall down his face. "I'm not the same person I was before. I'm not a person at all anymore, Shinji-kun. I'm a monster."

Shinji screwed up his face slightly. "But you're still you! I'm talking to you now, you're talking and acting exactly like you would before! Of course you're still you!" He sounded desperate.

"But I'm not human," Kaworu shook his head. "Shinji-kun, please! You can't stay with me. You need to stop seeing me, it's the only way you'll be safe!" He sighed. "I'm losing resistance every day. I don't know how much longer it will be until I lose all self-control. And when I do, I don't want you to be around for it. Even as a monster, I couldn't bear the pain of knowing I'd killed you..."

Shinji stood still. Kaworu wished he could see inside of his brain to figure out what he had to say to make Shinji understand. He used to be so good at reading Shinji's emotions, but now...

His eyes fell on the blood-clotted strainer, clearly distasteful. "What kind of blood is that?"

"Pig's blood. I bought as many containers as I could about a week ago. But I'm out now." He closed his eyes. "Though it doesn't make much of a difference. I've been losing strength every day. That stuff isn't fresh. It's not nearly enough to keep me sustained."

"You're starving..."

Kaworu hung his head as he muttered, "I clung to a false hope that I could survive without hurting anyone. But I can't. Either I let myself starve forever, or I take human lives for my own. There is no in-between.

"That's not true."

Kaworu looked at Shinji in confusion. His face was set. He was no longer crying.

"There's still another option." He met Kaworu's eyes with determination. "Someone could willingly let you drink from them."

"Sh-Shinji-kun, you can't be serious-"

He raised his voice. "If I let you drink from me, I could sustain you, and you wouldn't have to kill anyone."

Kaworu shook his head forcefully. "No, Shinji-kun, I can't! I've told you already, I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you! How could I possibly steal your blood?"

Shinji took another step closer. "You need blood. You'll go insane without it. And it would hurt me more to just leave you behind than it would to offer you my blood." He took a breath. "I could keep you alive. If you drink from me every month or so, I can buy you fresh animal blood the rest of the time, so-"

"No!" Kaworu rocked in the chair, straining against the tape. "I can't, Shinji-kun! Even if it means suffering for myself, I promised that I would never hurt you. Your happiness is my priority, and I can't weaken you for my own gain!"

Shinji stood up taller. He derisively stepped forwards again. They were only a foot apart now. "You're not the only one in this room who wants to protect the person you love. Kaworu-kun, I've spent my entire life with you. If there's anything I've learned, it's that you'll always be there for me no matter what. You've done so much for me. You've sacrificed so much for me. It's time for me to sacrifice for you too."

Bending down, he wrapped his arms around Kaworu's shoulders and leaned his head against his. Kaworu sat rigid. He could feel the pumping of blood in Shinji's veins again.

"I love you so much. I'll never let you suffer like this again."

Kaworu's eyes fluttered closed. He felt more tears well up inside them. "I..." he choked. "I love you too, Shinji-kun."

When Shinji pulled back slightly, they looked into each other's eyes. Shinji's were a beautiful, blazing blue. Kaworu wanted to drown in them.

"Drink from me, please."

"...You're really sure this is what you want?" Kaworu offered it as a last-ditch effort.

Shinji kept up his intensive stare. He nodded curtly.

Kaworu slackened his shoulders. He nodded. "Alright. I will."

Shinji's eyes softened. He leaned in, kissing Kaworu on the cheek. Kaworu instinctively turned, catching Shinji's lips with his own. He closed his eyes, a shiver wracking him as he finally felt those perfect lips again. He'd longed to feel them for weeks. They were just as soft and warm as he remembered. Shinji felt so alive.

"I'm so sorry I didn't talk to you. I was so afraid. I still am."

Shinji hovered in the space between their lips. He raised his hand, cupping Kaworu's face and tracing his cold, chapped lips with a thumb. "I understand. But please, know I'll never leave you, no matter what. I need you by my side, even when you're like this."

He pulled back. For once, Kaworu could sense his resolve wavering. Shinji's hands shook slightly as he reached into his pocket again. This time he pulled out a switchblade, walking around Kaworu to saw away his bindings. Kaworu could hear his shallow breathing. The intensity of what was about to happen must've been setting in.

Kaworu peeled the tape from his wrists and ankles, still sitting in the chair. Shinji stood off a little, obviously worried Kaworu was going to run at him again. He could still feel the desire pulsing somewhere in his chest, pushing him to restrain Shinji, to take all he could from him, but he resisted. He could think more clearly than he had in days. Shinji's presence had always had a way of calming him; It was relieving that still seemed to hold true, even while he was like this.

Kaworu stood up, wobbling dangerously. Shinji quickly came forward to support him. "Um, where... where would be a good place to...?" Shinji asked, looking around.

"The couch. Let's do it there."

Shinji nodded, walking Kaworu to the couch carefully, where he let him fall limply on the cushions. Shinji sat beside him, posture stiff.

It was rather awkward, having to push himself up and lean over Shinji when his arms were so weak. Shinji turned slightly, leaning into the cushions. Kaworu was almost on top of him.

Kaworu felt excitement coarse through his body. He hated how excited he was, but he hadn't eaten in so long, and Shinji looked absolutely perfect shivering the way he was. He was so tempting. Kaworu hated it.

"I really don't think I'll be able to restrain myself, Shinji-kun. Once I start... I don't know how I'll act."

Shinji nodded, his breathing unsteady, voice shaking. "O-Okay. You can take whatever you need." He raised a sweaty, shaking hand to Kaworu's cheek. "I still trust you."

Kaworu held his hand back. He could feel his pulse beating hard within it. It was as if his body knew it was about to lose blood, pumping harder in protest.

He leaned over his neck, shivering with anticipation. Shinji swallowed, then turned his head upwards.

"I'm sorry..."

Shinji squeezed his hand. "I know you are."

Kaworu breathed out over his skin, running goosebumps down Shinji's arms. He licked his lips. And bit.

Shinji gasped and jolted when he pierced skin. Kaworu sunk his fangs in deeper, feeling the layers of soft flesh splinter under him. He moaned in satisfaction. Shinji pulse pumped against his teeth.

He retracted, then roughly pulled Shinji's neck closer, forcing it against his mouth. Kaworu licked the wound, then latched.

Shinji whimpered, shrinking into the couch. Kaworu felt himself tugging Shinji even closer, but his hand dropped from Shinji's, scratching its nails down his soft, tan skin to his heart. It was beating so frantically. His dear Shinji was so afraid.

Blood pooled in his mouth, an impressive volume of it, so warm and thick. It ran down his throat without burning him, without making him gag. It was so smooth.

An odd, guttural noise bubbled up from his throat, now lined with Shinji's blood. It was almost like a growl. Shinji squirmed in apparent surprise.

Shinji seemed dazed, not quite sure of what to do with his hands. He raised one shakily to Kaworu's hair, jerking his fingers through it. Kaworu shivered as he gulped down another mouthful of sweet blood. The heavy scent of metal fogged his brain, losing him completely to hunger. He'd been deprived for so, so long. At long last, he had food. He had a squirming, fearful, life-filled victim laying beneath him, his blood draining to fill Kaworu with exactly what he needed. Shinji was delicious. Shinji was everything.

Kaworu didn't notice when Shinji's hand slipped limply from his hair after a few minutes, flopping down uselessly on the couch. Greedily, he continued to suck at his neck as Shinji's shallow breathing filled the room. Kaworu let his blood fill his mouth again, the sweet nectar trickling down his throat. It was like heaven. His blood was the best thing he'd ever tasted, and he never wanted to stop.

With another swallow, though, he could feel himself getting full. He easily wrapped his arms around Shinji's limp body to stop him from slipping down anymore. He didn't realize how frail he was.

With one last gulp, Kaworu slowly pulled back, licking the wound still hungrily. He sighed in deep relief, finally full after weeks of starvation. He closed his eyes, licking up the remaining blood in his mouth, allowing it to flow through him. He finally felt strong again.

He glanced downwards. Sudden dread washed over him, quickly overshadowing his momentary satisfaction.

"Shinji-kun?!"

He desperately grabbed at Shinji's face, cupping it, willing him to open his eyes. He momentarily left the couch, scrambling for a washcloth. He came back quickly after soaking it, pressing it to the continuously bleeding wound. Two angry, red marks stood out against his soft skin while Kaworu wiped away the excess of blood, which had seemed so appetizing moments ago.

He cupped Shinji's face again, tears blurring his eyes. "Shinji-kun? Oh, dear, please..." He moved his hand down to his heart. It was still beating, though feebly. "Shinji-kun... Shinji-kun..." He lowered his head, pressing it to Shinji's chest.

His eyes flew open when he heard a weak moan. He stared, cupping Shinji's face in his hands. He ran his thumb over his temple, breathing hard.

"Ow..." Shinji's eyes cracked open. Kaworu's hope leapt. "Kawo - Kaworu-kun..." Shinji slurred his name in a pitiful voice.

Kaworu breathed in relief, his eyes wide with concern. He pulled Shinji into a hug, cradling his head in his hand. "Oh, darling! I thought I - oh, I'm so sorry..."

He pet his hair comfortingly, leaning down towards his neck again. This time, he kissed the puncture marks apologetically as they continued to leak.

Shinji took a few minutes to fully regain his senses. He was still obviously disoriented, though conscious at least.

"That was a lot," Shinji cracked finally. He smiled forcefully up at Kaworu's deeply concerned face. "But I'm okay. I told you I'd be okay."

"I'm so relieved. I'm so glad you're alive." Kaworu pulled Shinji into another hug.

He touched the hot puncture marks on his neck, then held his hand up, blood staining the pads of his fingers. Kaworu held Shinji's wrist, then lowered his head to lick the blood away. Shinji smiled weakly.

"That's sort of cute - in a weird way." He laughed.

"What do you need, Shinji-kun? Anything to drink? A snack? I still have some shelf safe food in my pantry I didn't throw out. I'll get you anything." Before Shinji could open his mouth, Kaworu rushed to the fridge and brought him back a water bottle. "Here. Start with this."

Shinji took it from him, keeping his eyes on Kaworu. "Even though you just drank my blood, I feel like you're taking better care of me than ever."

"Well, I couldn't just leave you like this," Kaworu insisted.

"I know, it's just funny." Shinji took a drink of water and closed his eyes. "You're just as sweet as ever." He leaned into Kaworu's side. "Even though you're not human now, I still love you."

Kaworu hugged him in return. His body was so warm. He wasn't used to such comfort, not since his skin had gone cold.

"If staying with me will make you happy, I encourage you. I can't deny it makes me euphoric to have you in my arms again." He sighed, rubbing Shinji's back. "But are you really certain this is what you want? You're certain you want to stay with me and live like this?" He ran a finger below the bite marks on Shinji's neck. "With me hurting you?" he ended quietly.

The smile Shinji gave him was warmer still than his body. "Of course I'm sure. I've been sure about you for years." He caressed Kaworu's face. "Not even this'll make me walk away from you. And anyway," he added dryly, "I'll get better. I won't feel this weak forever."

Kaworu smiled slightly, then kissed him. He tried to ignore how he could still feel the pumping of blood in Shinji's body, and how excited it made him. He focused instead on Shinji himself. He'd have to learn to restrict his hunger.

"I can't tell you how much this means to me. How could I ever repay you for this?"

Shinji cuddled into the crook of his neck. "By being here with me. That's all I've ever wanted from you."

He pulled back and gave Kaworu a confident look. Kaworu always loved it when he had that expression, it looked so cute on him. "And I'm still gonna move in. That won't be changing."

Smiling, Kaworu responded, "I'm glad to hear it, but let's not worry about that now. All you need to think about is resting for the next few days. I'll tend to everything else."

Shinji nodded, taking another sip of water. "You know... you kind of look nice this way. It's creepy, but I think it suits you."

Kaworu tilted his head. "Really?"

"Yeah, you look all mysterious. Like you should be in a painting or something."

Kaworu giggled. It felt good to laugh again. "You really know how to make a situation seem far better than it is."

"I'm just trying to get used to this," Shinji shrugged, half-smiling. He rubbed his neck, which was no longer bleeding.

Kaworu placed an arm around his shoulder as he yawned. Shinji slipped downwards until his head was resting in Kaworu's lap. He looked up, blue eyes meeting red.

"I missed you so much, darling."

Shinji smiled sleepily. "I missed you too."

"Get some rest. I'll make sure you get better as soon as you can." Kaworu ran his fingers through Shinji's hair.

"Mmh," Shinji closed his eyes, "I'm glad I barged in without asking."

Kaworu smiled widely. "I suppose I am too. Thank you for loving me, even though I..." he trailed off, his smile fading, though it didn't seem to matter. Shinji must've drifted off already.

Kaworu watched him. 'Even though I want to take your life,' he finished for himself.

He rested his hand over Shinji's heart again, it's beating slow, weak. He forcefully shelved his desire for its taste. He would protect it at all costs, even if it meant betraying his desires. Shinji would always be safe in his arms. Even if he couldn't always be whole.

The only one who would ever shed his blood would be him.

"I love you, Shinji-kun."