Roach tried everything as much as buying blood bags but none of them tasted the same from when it was from the flesh itself.

He groaned in annoyance once he had finished one bag, an ick in his face.

His sudden whines were cut off by you, entering your shared barrack with him.

And that's where he smelled it. Your blood. And god did it taste delicious.

Too delicious that he might get up and take an instant bite out of your neck but he kept his sanity. Just staring at you intently.