Pushing myself to my feet, I make my way toward him, bare feet shuffling against the floor, but I stop about halfway when I see all the blood on him.

It's... not unusual, but there's still that moment where my heart clinches and I wonder how much of it is his. How deep are the wounds, and how much deeper can he take before he can't get back up again?

But those are all feelings I've gotten used to dealing with. It's part of the deal, between us. I only stand there for half a second before I'm stepping closer, looking for the source of the blood. It's when I find it that things sorta skew sideways.

"What the fuck..." I breathe out, looking at the familiar marks on his neck, stomach lurching. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?"