And then she blushed. The most delicious pink colour rose on her pale cheeks. The scent of her blood washed over me with renewed strength, and my throat screamed. My self-control began to slip away at an alarming speed, and she was all that filled my mind. I could have stopped breathing, I didn’t need it after all, but for some reason I just kept drawing deep breaths, feeling the aroma of her blood drown me as the air rushed into my lungs. It was so much more than simple blood-lust, but I could not put a name on it. The thought of her sweet blood pouring over my lips certainly dizzied my mind, and the monster inside roared to get out, but that didn’t feel like enough, not with her. I wanted to trace my fingers over her skin, having the warmth seeping into my chill flesh; I wanted to put my lips at the hollow of her throat, not to bite, but to taste her and feel the vibrations of her beating heart. I didn’t recognise what I felt, but I knew that I would have to get away from her before I lost hold of myself, before something happened to her. For some odd reason I could not bear to think of her hurt.