[ Edgin cradles his head as he starts to feel him slipping away, holding him close to his chest. He holds him into he feels the life leave him. His hands shake as he pulls him away. The smell of blood--Zia's first, and then Kirk's--is so thick in the air.
It disgusts him to realize how bad he wants it. He brings his hand, covered in Kirk's blood, in all its many shades, to his lips and licks it clean. Each taste makes him want more, and he tries to stop himself but he's so weak.
Horrified as he does it, he peels back the layer of Kirk's shirt so he can lick the blood blood left on him. Kirk had lost so much. He'd bled so much. And it's all his for the taking, even with that horrid, metallic gold taste that reminds him that the Gold Court will always have the upperhand against him.
Time in nightmares works on a peculiar logic, of course. It feels at once like minutes, but like also hours, that he sits with Kirk's body. With his blood. That he feasts on it, and hates himself for every second. Hates how much he loves the taste. Hates how this feels like there was something right about killing him; like it was his due.
---
Edgin wakes up with a start, covered in sweat. His hands are shaking, and he swears he can still taste Kirk's cold blood on his lips. The thought of what he'd done both sickens and arouses him but he tries to shove both of those emotions down to be dealt with later.
Instead, he gets dressed and hurries over to Kirk's room, knocking on the door maybe a little more loudly than intended. ]
Hey, kid, are you awake?
[ There's a rising panic in his voice. If Kirk had gotten the curse because of that dream, he wouldn't forgive himself. Or if he'd---
No, no, Edgin shoves that thought down and anyway too. Surely he was fine. He'll probably come to the door half dressed and start teasing him. ]
cw licking a dead man's blood
It disgusts him to realize how bad he wants it. He brings his hand, covered in Kirk's blood, in all its many shades, to his lips and licks it clean. Each taste makes him want more, and he tries to stop himself but he's so weak.
Horrified as he does it, he peels back the layer of Kirk's shirt so he can lick the blood blood left on him. Kirk had lost so much. He'd bled so much. And it's all his for the taking, even with that horrid, metallic gold taste that reminds him that the Gold Court will always have the upperhand against him.
Time in nightmares works on a peculiar logic, of course. It feels at once like minutes, but like also hours, that he sits with Kirk's body. With his blood. That he feasts on it, and hates himself for every second. Hates how much he loves the taste. Hates how this feels like there was something right about killing him; like it was his due.
---
Edgin wakes up with a start, covered in sweat. His hands are shaking, and he swears he can still taste Kirk's cold blood on his lips. The thought of what he'd done both sickens and arouses him but he tries to shove both of those emotions down to be dealt with later.
Instead, he gets dressed and hurries over to Kirk's room, knocking on the door maybe a little more loudly than intended. ]
Hey, kid, are you awake?
[ There's a rising panic in his voice. If Kirk had gotten the curse because of that dream, he wouldn't forgive himself. Or if he'd---
No, no, Edgin shoves that thought down and anyway too. Surely he was fine. He'll probably come to the door half dressed and start teasing him. ]