“Are you mad at me?” Satoru hums, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I can’t help the fact your blood is so sweet.”

He’s always had expensive tastes. For the most part, blood tastes like dirt, but yours is special.

Satoru comes from a long line of vampires—the Gojo clan is full of them—who choose humans to be their blood bags. Not that he thinks of you as human food. You’ll probably try to stake him if he ever called you that.