You and Gaz had this thing going on since before you could remember. He'd come to you after work, eyes tired, skin sickly. Time and time again, he would beg for your blood.

He didn't need to beg. You've told him, but he just can't help it.

"Please..." his soft plea ringing out as the door opens. You scan his tired body already, making your way over to him arm held out.