[He growls in an inhumane way when Life rips him free of his neck, the decadent flow of his blood running down both their throats - Death licks at what's on his lips, acting like an animal ready to fight over its meal before that teeth-gnashing energy is subdued by a kiss. One that, naturally, he bites into all the same - but there's a thread of humanity to it, his hand on the back of Zephir's head to hold him down and at his level.
He can still taste the acidic bile at the back of his throat, feel it drip down his nose the longer he ignores it - black and white soon to paint them both, his hands all over his other half, thick nails gouging lines in him only to let them heal up. He kneads those claws into Zephir like a cat, painful affection digging deeper every time.]
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He can still taste the acidic bile at the back of his throat, feel it drip down his nose the longer he ignores it - black and white soon to paint them both, his hands all over his other half, thick nails gouging lines in him only to let them heal up. He kneads those claws into Zephir like a cat, painful affection digging deeper every time.]