Work Text:
just why did you have to cause such a ruckus?
you could've, like a normal person, asked kindly if eva would be willing to give you a bit of—preferably, her—blood. she would've surely said yes, considering her actions now, but you had no way of knowing before.
instead, you essentially tackled her to the floor (putting a hand under her head so she wouldn't hit it, of course) and restrained her hands above her after to drink instead. the only two people in the room are the director of the world trying to rid it of a deadly epidemic, and a random scientist, so obviously her guards get a bit concerned.
they loudly knock, then receive no answer and ask. “madam director, are you okay?”
you'd quip that they're awfully poor excuses for guards if eva were actually in danger, if you weren't so focused on her blood. you thought all of it tasted the same—kind of bad and metallic—but god you've never drank anything better. it's so sweet and feels like water to a dying desert dweller. eva pushes one of her wrists from under you, and you figure you're doomed either way, so you let her. she pulls your hand off of her mouth.
“fine!” she grunts out a response as best she can.
she sharply inhales once you rip yourself away from her throat. she stares at you, catching her breath, and sees your absolutely exhilarated look. is that what blood does to you? the blushing makes sense—it's her blood coming into your body to keep it working—but that pure joy is... well, she doesn't mind that expression on you.
a sudden crash of a potted plant interrupts her thoughts. probably for the better. but it gets her guards to announce that they should check on her anyway, and they both quickly enter.
the sight is surely incriminating. her, on the floor with one hand trapped and another trapping yours. a bloody mess made of her throat. you, sitting on her, licking your lips and teeth clean.
unluckily for you, they're quick to act, and your body is fighting against you because of this sudden energy gain. you're swiftly grabbed and your arms are pulled behind you. ah, so this was dumb. good to kn—
“wait.”
eva breathes the word out. her guards just kind of glance at her, each other, then her again. she slowly sits up, wrapping a hand around her wound. you try to get into a more comfortable position to lessen the pain, to little avail.
eva looks like she's about to regret everything she says. “i'm fine. as i told you. the two of you are dismissed. not a word to anyone, understood?”
they make some sort of noise that's not quite reassuring. stare at her and each other again. then lessen their hold on you. the left one tries to find the polite words, and just ends up groaning. the right one asks the question for him. “madam... are you, uh, sane, currently?? you haven't been turned?”
she gives them a harsh stare. “i'm sane, yes. out with you.”
one of them shrugs and stands up, so the other follows him out. you take the chance to get just a little further away from eva so you can gather your bearings without smelling her blood. you bite down on your thumb to release some pressure. it only kind of works.
eva eyes you carefully. “are you... in pain?”
well, lying to her now would just be horrible of you. you nod, “mhm. haven't had anything in a while, and yours 's,” you take steady breaths, and sink into yourself some more. you look embarrassed, if she's reading you right. she usually can. your voice drops to barely a whisper. “it just tastes really good. and... my body's getting used to it.”
she hums. you suddenly jump. “oh! right, uh, sorry about the whole... suddenly attacking you thing. just kinda got too hungry, and you—” you shake your head. “um, no it wasn't your fault actually, just, sorry!”
she considers it for a moment. she looks at you with an expression you can't quite read, even after all of these years. her tone is stern, but with that gentleness she can never hide from you. “so you won't be doing it again, i assume?”
“nope! sorry, again.” you quickly stand up and protest when she tries to do the same. “stay here! i'll go and get a doctor!”
once you've run out and closed the door, she rubs the dried blood on her neck. it's still bleeding a bit, and stings, but she'd welcome the feeling for another hour or so. but she'll settle for just the mark it'll leave.
—
there's your signature, clean writing, eva muses. she's got your proposal in hand and a bandage around her wound hidden beneath a turtleneck. she turns the pages and skims over it. she'll be sure to praise you on your effort—you've made a point of making this little blood bank as ethical as possible.
you've laid out every material necessary, how to best care for blood to make sure it stays fresh, who would be best for the job, who had volunteered to give their bl—
oh. right. that part.
her fingers come up to her neck. her thumb finds its way to the bandaged two puncture wounds. she thinks her frown is obvious, judging by your worried stare. oh, do you think it still hurts?
she'll let you believe that, for now. she turns the page again, rests her mind for approximately eight seconds, then faces you. “about these donors...” she begins. you smile reassuringly.
“yes! they've all agreed, without the pretext of any reward like money or special research privileges!”
she controls her expression to not frown more deeply. “i understand that. i just,” she realises she probably should've found an excuse sooner. then eureka strikes. “you said my blood tasted particularly good. have you made sure all of the donors' blood does, too?”
you blink at her. cute. “i don't need it to taste good! it's not, like, disgusting or anything, i'll just get used to it little by little.” you wave your hands to dismiss her worry. “i know my limits, eva.”
her hands gather on her desk an intertwine in a rather professional way, but you can see her thumbs fidgeting. “but wouldn't you want that?”
“uhh,” you start. a great sentence, really. what's she getting at? “i guess so. but...”
she clears her throat, and suddenly every object on her desk is more interesting than your eyes. “i could simply supply it for you. that would be preferable, wouldn't it?”
you have to get your thoughts in order before responding.
“no way! that'd be dangerous, eva—it's only safe to lose that amount of blood every three or so months. i only lasted this long without it because i forced myself. if i waited that long after just drinking so much, i'd go all crazy on you agai—”
“that's fine.”
“...huh?”
she finally looks you in the eyes again, still with a light shy blush on her cheeks. “you went six months without it; only around the five month mark did you start to lose your focus and fine-motor skills. therefore three or four months shouldn't be a problem.”
you just sigh. “okay, but i'd still end up losing my control at some point and roughing you up again.”
she just shrugs. she takes a pen and crosses out the names of various willing donors, and writes down her own, instead. she can see that you still look apprehensive, at best. she adds a short “if necessary, take blood from one of the above” to satisfy you. she knows she's pushing it.
“it's better this way. things won't have to change. i've always taken care of you, haven't i?”
you give a tentative nod, so she continues. “this will be the same. i'm not going to let you feed on anyone... unworthy.”
just the thought of someone else seeing you like that, of feeling you like she did, it's enough to make her utterly sick. you catch on now, thanks to the scowl on her face. her mouth comes back to a neutral line when she looks at you again. but she also knows this is about you—your health and your wants. so she'll stay sick to her stomach with greed and jealousy and disgust, and let you occasionally take your nutrients from elsewhere if she's somehow not in the right state. (which won't happen, she'd like to assure you.)
she takes your hand and guides it to her neck, placing your fingers carefully over the two red dots you'd made. the distance between you makes you lean over her desk a bit to go where she wants you to, and she can tell she's pushing your will to stay in control of your urges. your fingers press down on the wounds just slightly, and your mouth droops open. she's careful not to wince at the pressure.
when you try to take back your hand to step away and stop breathing so heavily, she doesn't let you.
“just come to me when you need me. only to me.”
when she dismisses you, she drafts up an order for her scientists to look into artificial blood.
