(Angelo's POV)
In the dimly lit basement, I cradled the zombie-like Christelle in my arms, offering my neck to satiate her primal need for blood. Her red eyes glowed with an unsettling intensity as she leaned in, and the sensation of her sipping vigorously sent a chill down my spine.
**My Thoughts:** (conflicted) This is surreal, even for the supernatural encounters we've faced. Can offering my blood truly unlock the answers we seek?
As Christelle continued to sip, a strange mixture of fear and determination coursed through me. The sound of her drinking echoed in the basement, and I felt a warmth spreading from the point of contact.
My ears reddened, the intensity of the moment leaving me both vulnerable and resolute. Despite the uncertainty, I remained steadfast.
**Me:** (whispering)
