In the intensity of the mont, Isiah’s focus remained solely on the blood, oblivious to any romantic implications.
As they exchanged the crimson essence between their mouths, his thoughts were consud by the primal hunger driving him forward.
He didn’t consider their actions as a kiss but rather as a ans to satisfy his insatiable craving.
On the other hand, Lexie found herself lost in the mont, a feeling as if she were inherently made for Isiah.
What heightened her emotions was the noticeable shift in Isiah’s usual deanor.
It seed like sothing had changed, leaving her yearning for answers yet unable to muster the courage to confront him.
After nurous bloody kisses, Lexie found herself in a dizzying haze.
The way Isiah’s mouth moved against hers, the taste of his lips, the force he exerted – it all evoked a mix of fear and a longing that surpassed a re kiss.
However, as Isiah sensed the subsiding of his hunger, he withdrew. Lexie’s eyes, closed in the intensity of the mont, slowly opened.
He murmured, "This will suffice."
Lexie’s heart raced with anticipation, her senses heightened by the intoxicating exchange they had just shared.
She longed for more, craving the taste of his lips against hers. But Isiah, consud by his own hunger, remained aloof, his gaze fixed upon her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
Despite her silent yearning, she dared not voice her desires, fearing rejection or worse, indifference from Isiah.
Lexie turned her gaze away. With a resigned sigh, she uttered, "Okay, if you say so."
Gently, Isiah began to bandage Lexie’s hand, his movents deliberate and thodical.
Once done, he paused, his eyes searching hers as he softly spoke, "I took so much blood... do you feel better?"
In that fleeting mont, Lexie realized that their interaction wasn’t leading to the intimate relationship she had hoped for.
With a heavy heart, she closed her eyes, her voice trembling as she uttered, "Isiah Duncan... do you even care?"
Isiah stood and walked away to the window, wiping his mouth from her blood.
He turned towards her, gazing out as he calmly remarked, "That was just an exchange of blood...you don’t have any right to ask any question "
Lexie watched him silently, her heart heavy with the weight of his words.
Despite her inner turmoil, she found herself unable to look away, her eyes fixed on his retreating figure by the window.
As she processed his statent, a sense of resignation washed over her.
With a heavy sigh, Lexie closed her eyes briefly, gathering her thoughts before speaking.
"I understand," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Though her words were tinged with sadness, there was a hint of acceptance in her tone.
"Hmm...you should have asked a good question at least ...like...the people I killed ...," he said, his eyes revealing a depth of complexity.
Lexie hesitated for a mont, the gravity of the question settling over her. "Who... who did you kill?" she asked, her voice tentative, uncertain of what revelations might follow.
But before he could say anything she just interrupted him .
Lexie’s voice wavered, a blend of frustration and confusion evident in her words.
"Stop... stop, Isiah. You’ve never shown any interest in talking to before. What’s happening to you today?"
He fixed his gaze on her, his words cutting through the air with a cold precision.
"You’ve been asleep for two weeks. It’s been that long since the people in Triavert tried to kill you. Technically, they succeeded. Your heart stopped when I found you in that dark alley. I had to bring you back by... doing CPR."
She stared at him, a perplexed expression etched on her face. "CPR? What does that even an?"
Isiah’s words pierced the air with an unsettling finality. "A thing to bring you back to life," he uttered, his tone devoid of emotion.
She recoiled in shock, her voice barely a whisper. "So... I was dead?"
Isiah t her gaze with a steely resolve. "Yes... You asked what changed... That’s what changed."
Everything seed hazy, like a distant dream she couldn’t quite grasp.
She struggled to keep her eyes open, but the weight of exhaustion pulled them shut. With a heavy sigh, she confessed, "Isiah... I don’t know what’s happening to . It’s like I can’t even summon the strength to open my eyes anymore."
"Then sleep!" he commanded, his voice firm. But she resisted, forcing her eyes open against the pull of exhaustion.
"I feel like if I close my eyes and sleep, you’ll disappear forever. Maybe this is all just a dream. Maybe those kisses never happened, and I only imagined them. Maybe I never shouted that I hated you... About that, Isiah Duncan... I don’t... I never hated you."
Isiah’s words cut through the air like a knife, his tone laced with a bitter edge of disdain.
"Lexie, you’re living in a fantasy," he spat out, his voice dripping with derision. "Wake up and face the truth. This... whatever you think we had, it was nothing but a delusion."
For a mont, she was rendered speechless, the harsh reality of his indifference crashing over her like a tidal wave.
But then, a flicker of defiance ignited within her, fueling her resolve to confront the cruel truth he so callously wielded.
With trembling hands and a voice thick with emotion, she lifted her chin defiantly and t his gaze head-on.
"I may be living in a fantasy, Isiah," she declared, her voice quivering with suppressed rage. "But at least in my fantasy, there is a shred of humanity left in you."
Isiah wanted to leave the room .
Isiah paused in his tracks, his hand gripping the door fra tightly as Lexie’s words pierced through the air like a dagger.
"You saved ," she cried out, her voice cracking with emotion. "You brought back from death’s door, cared for , and brought here. There’s nothing you can say that would make believe you want dead now. In fact, I dare say... Isiah, you want close to you."
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