[ It digs into Armand like a splinter, that feeling. He remembers it, the hand in his hair, the cool touch on his body telling him that he's safe. That he belongs here. Belongs to someone.
Armand tries to move away from the memories, but they cling to him. The smells of oil paints, the taste of Marius' blood in his mouth, drowning in it --
He'd asked it, too. Is it supposed to feel like this? ]
There's no answer to that, Koby. But as a vampire -- you would be more than you have ever been. It takes some getting used to.
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Armand tries to move away from the memories, but they cling to him. The smells of oil paints, the taste of Marius' blood in his mouth, drowning in it --
He'd asked it, too. Is it supposed to feel like this? ]
There's no answer to that, Koby. But as a vampire -- you would be more than you have ever been. It takes some getting used to.