The End Of Love

[newtralize]

We were reaching in the dark
That summer in New York
And it was so far to fall
But it didn't hurt at all
And let it wash away, wash away

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[periit]

[ Percival wants to argue that Newt has already given him blood and, yes, it only took drops to fill him in the form of a tiny bat, but this was different. Vastly so. He wants to argue it, if only he had the energy for it. Because while he doesn’t speak the rest of his control is being spent on not letting himself give in then and there, the urge only growing stronger the more he notices the pumping of Newt’s heart. ]

Famished, [ The word tumbles out of him with a will of its own, and Percival lifts his hand to press a finger over his mouth as if that would stop the already spoken word again or any others from following it. He closes his eyes and takes a moment, unsure. It was only going to get worse again, wasn’t it?

He starts with a small, swaying step towards Newt, then another once he’s found some balance and only stops when he’s not but an arm’s length away. Eyes are bought back up to the other’s face, as weary as they are hungered, and he asks in a soft tone: ] You’re sure?

[newtralize]

[For all of Newt's seemingly docile nature, he doesn't balk at all as the other slowly closes the space between them. Doesn't flinch even though the other looks at him hungrily. Was he uncomfortable? Most definitely. It wasn't about the fact that he was offering himself as a meal, but just the awkwardness of the physicality of it all. Something foreign to him.

He offers a smile though.] We wouldn't be in this current position if I weren't sure. [A bit of a shy laugh.] I hope you don't think I just randomly strip in the company of others like this.

[Newt gestures a bit to the bed.] I don't think it would be safe for either of us to do this, uhm, standing. [Because Percival seems to not have all his balance and Newt can't imagine that he'll be able to keep his own once the other starts feeding.]

[periit]

[ Newt speaks and whatever little pull Percival felt himself starting down vanishes with a snap, followed by a flash of guilt. He might be famished but that’s no reason for him to lose his head. This was dangerous for them both; he needed to focus. Only the thing Newt refocuses him on is equally unhelpful—for different reasons. ]

I, [ Am thinking it now, The thought rolls around his head as he bites his tongue. Why was he thinking of it? Was he that one-minded right now? Percival shakes his head slowly. ] It was the furthest thought in my mind. [ Was. It might have been a split second apart, but still.

Looking over his shoulder Percival looks at the bed, a mess from all their startle. ] Of course, [ He nods. Their position here was less a moment of eagerness than it was holding a steak in front of a starving man; his restraint was waning by the second now that Newt willingly made an offer. ] Please, [ He motions as he leans against the dresser with both arms. ] I wouldn’t want either of us hurt.