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a little brown book
finding the life of Alexander Shaw, a kind of serial story.
I was already floating from fever, and my blood was pounding in my ears. Though their bodies were generally hot, their hands felt cool on my face, and it was comforting to be crushed in between them.
“Mmm. He's been without painkillers for several days.” Edward murmured into my hair. “I've been keeping them from him.”
“Good.” Vlad returned. “It will be better that way. Alexander.” he spoke to me now. “You will feel yourself drifting away, but you must stay with us.”
I managed to assent.
“This is important, Alexander. If you let yourself drift, you will die.”

I was dying anyway.

I could feel their breath on my throat, lips soft against the exposed skin. When the teeth pierced my skin, I could barely twitch, though I could feel each separately, going far deeper than ever before.





 
 
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