[ It makes sense to the vampire. Taking ownership of another's death is the subject of his creation myth, his laws, his very being. It's everything he has, everything he is. His thoughts are soft with understanding and acceptance, yes the fear, yes the hunger, the loneliness. The desire to be something, anything, if it means no longer being nothing, yes, yes, yes.
He leans into the resonance and throb of his name, lacing his mind through hers like hands coming together in prayer. Sanctified grief. The death, a holy act, for all between them will be transformed by it. Yes, he understands. ]
Parisa. [ Her name, given back to her. ] Parisa, come to me. Come to me and we will find oblivion together. For as long as is needed.
no subject
He leans into the resonance and throb of his name, lacing his mind through hers like hands coming together in prayer. Sanctified grief. The death, a holy act, for all between them will be transformed by it. Yes, he understands. ]
Parisa. [ Her name, given back to her. ] Parisa, come to me. Come to me and we will find oblivion together. For as long as is needed.