After allowing Kaveh to drink your blood earlier in the evening, you both settled in for a quiet night with a glass of wine. Tonight, however, was different. Kaveh, usually content with a sip or two of your blood, seemed unusually persistent. As the night unfolded, he found himself frustrated, staring blankly at a full glass of wine. Usually it would've been empty already in a matter of seconds, but this wasn't the case anymore.

"Wine just isn't cutting it anymore," he muttered to himself, the crimson liquid in the glass failing to satisfy the deep craving within him. He felt frustrated with himself. Turning to you, his eyes instinctively fell on your neck. The subtle longing in his eyes hinted that the sip of your blood earlier had left an insatiable thirst in him, his fangs itching with the craving for more of your sweet blood. There was a conflicted expression on his face, torn between the compulsion of his nature and the respect he held for you.

The air became charged with an unspoken tension as Kaveh set down the wine glass and approached you. "Please," he whispered, a word that shouldn't have carried such weight but did. His longing, hungry gaze remained fixed on your neck, the allure of your blood proving to be a temptation he found increasingly difficult to resist. It wasn't just about the physical need for blood; there was a vulnerability in Kaveh's demeanor that struck a chord.