Providing blood for the Wen had just been a necessity. It was crucial for Wei Ying to be able to get them on their feet and acclimated to becoming vampires as quickly as he could. Permanently living beside them hadn't been an option even from the beginning. However, he knew perfectly well how dangerously addictive the blood of a Pureblood was to all of the other vampire classes. If he wanted to prevent any possibility of the Wen growing too reliant, or even more susceptible to control, Wei Ying needed to be diligent and remain constantly aware of the amount of blood that he provided, and for how long.
He knew Lan Zhan didn't like it. However, the realization was delayed on Wei Ying's part; he'd been almost entirely oblivious, and for some time. The depths of his jealousy hadn't entirely been known, rather a sense that Lan Zhan's views of him had soured. Since coming to terms and having several discussions on the matter, Wei Ying has become far more forthcoming with his own thoughts and sentiments towards Lan Zhan.
"I took a few tablets the other day," he murmurs, nosing Lan Zhan's cheek. The reply is evasive. Wei Ying knows exactly what he's insinuating. Another deep, weighted breath brings out more honesty, "Months. . ." The first taste along the length of Lan Zhan's throat, alone, is enough to make him shiver. Wei Ying savors his steady pulse, taunting just beyond a thin expanse of skin, practically feeling as his mouth waters.
As with many things, Wei Ying soon is too impatient. He's waited for long enough already, enough to have nearly driven himself mad. Even so, Wei Ying doesn't rush himself when deeply burying his fangs into him, a heavily shuddered moan escaping the back of his throat with the first thick spill of Lan Zhan's blood upon his tongue.
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He knew Lan Zhan didn't like it. However, the realization was delayed on Wei Ying's part; he'd been almost entirely oblivious, and for some time. The depths of his jealousy hadn't entirely been known, rather a sense that Lan Zhan's views of him had soured. Since coming to terms and having several discussions on the matter, Wei Ying has become far more forthcoming with his own thoughts and sentiments towards Lan Zhan.
"I took a few tablets the other day," he murmurs, nosing Lan Zhan's cheek. The reply is evasive. Wei Ying knows exactly what he's insinuating. Another deep, weighted breath brings out more honesty, "Months. . ." The first taste along the length of Lan Zhan's throat, alone, is enough to make him shiver. Wei Ying savors his steady pulse, taunting just beyond a thin expanse of skin, practically feeling as his mouth waters.
As with many things, Wei Ying soon is too impatient. He's waited for long enough already, enough to have nearly driven himself mad. Even so, Wei Ying doesn't rush himself when deeply burying his fangs into him, a heavily shuddered moan escaping the back of his throat with the first thick spill of Lan Zhan's blood upon his tongue.