“I live for you, my heart, can’t you see?” Nico urges, pleads, as he holds your hands tightly. “I am nothing without you. I need you,”

Just one cup of his blood. One cup, and you’d be able to live with him forever, to hold, to love, to care for. But you refuse every time.

Why must you humans live for such little time?

He can see the signs of you aging, and it scares him. Wrinkles, stray white hairs— your eyes, gods, your beautiful eyes, Nico sees the way the light dims from them.

His head bows against your chest.

An eternity without you would be worse than the most painful death.