He made a sound of confirmation deep in his throat and a smile tugged sporadically at the corner of his mouth, like it'd been hooked by a fisherman.
"Very good," he said, his voice a whisper. Timo's response to him, the quickening of his pulse, was a distraction. For a moment, all he could envision was burying his face in Timo's throat, breaking skin and pulling from his veins the very stuff of life, into his mouth and down his throat. If he hadn't fed earlier, he doubted he would've been able to fight the urge. But he came to, licking his lips and sucking in a shuddering breath. He was still holding Timo's hand, he realized, and made himself release it.
Vomas scooted away to his own cushion and busied himself with smoothing his tie, though it hung perfectly.
Eventually, he looked from his tie to Timo. "What other things do you see?"