journal
angelfish
— 04/01/26
“Your nose is bleeding.”
She followed the line of his pointer finger aiming crosshairs at her face.
The first ruby bead dripped down her lips.
“Well, help her, you dumbass,” his roommate gave them a taunting look. “Otherwise I will.”
He glared at him, hand dropping to his side. His long-legged stride brought him in front of her within two steps. He took his index and middle finger, smearing the blood onto his hand, clenching it into a fist.
She stared in shock, eyes flickering from his bloody hand to his warmly smiling face.
With a faint blush dusting his cheeks, he guided her towards the bathroom. The tips of his non-bloody fingers rested on the small of her back and only lifted to lock the door behind them.
Her head was tilted back, blood running freely down her throat. She moved blindly to the sink, letting her head fall forward; and with it, the blood that had been coagulating in her nostrils.
She groaned.
“Wow. You get them bad, don’t you?”
“No shit,” her voice rasped. She listened to the creak of a door as he opened the cupboard, presumably to look for paper towels. She eyed him in the mirror.
He raised the bloody hand to his mouth, unfurling his fingers, and she watched in mild horror as his tongue flicked out to lap up the blood soaking into his skin.
She averted her gaze back to the spatters of red in the bottom of the sink, head swimming.
“Here,” his sweatered arm appeared, holding a handful of one-ply paper towels.
She took them from his hand, setting them on the opposite side of the vanity.
His watch glinted in the yellow-tinted warmth of the bathroom light.
It drew her in like a crow to a coin, and she pressed forward, passing over the sink, letting her mouth hover millimeters over his palm. A few drops of blood slipped from her nose into the cup of his empty hand, forming a perfect crimson pool.
He inhaled sharply as her tongue collided with his callused palm, his spit mixing with her own as she traced the blood into the embedded lines of his hands.
She looked back at him, lips glassy and rose-tinted.
He was looking away, red in the face, biting his lip.
“Hey… do you like this?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, like a cat avoiding being pet, he arched his neck to lean even farther away from her.
— 04/09/26
“It’s okay.” It was the softest she had ever spoken to him.
“But, uhm, I don’t want you to get blood all over your clothes.”
“Just get rid of them,” she suggested with a shrug and a smile.
Blush crept up his neck, encompassing the slopes of his features.
He fumbled with the buttons of her flannel, fingers trembling.
“Be careful, it’s literally white.”
“It’s literally so big it could fit me,” he grumbled.
“Well, I chose it because-,”
A strangled gasp left his throat as he pulled the flannel over her shoulders, revealing the top of her bare breasts.
“-beacuse I didn’t want to wear a bra.”
He covered his eyes with his hands.
“Are you… not into girls or something?”
He peeked through his fingers. “N- no. I mean yes, I’m into girls- uhm…,” his voice faded as she shimmied out of her shirt, letting it drop to the floor. She held out her arms in offer of an open embrace, the slowing blood dripping down her chin.
He watched intently, hands trembling as they dropped from his face.
The single line of blood carved a path over the muscles of her neck, flowing between the valley of her breasts. “Come here,” she said finally, exasperation evident in her face.
She gasped as, instead, he fell to his knees.
His hot hands gripped her hips, warm breath fanning over her stomach. He pushed himself up, licking the stray drop of blood that had made its way down her belly. She arched back into the countertop as he followed its trail all the way up to her neck. Her eyes shut as he reached up, never losing his grip on her waist, and pressed sloppy kisses to the delicate flesh of her neck and shoulders.
She reveled in his attention: his hands, so large they could meet each other around her waist, his short, well-maintained nails pressing into her skin.
Her focus broke as his teeth nipped her collarbone.
“Ah-,” her hands clenched around the fabric of his navy sweater.
He pulled her to him, his fuzzy hair tickling her bare chest. She felt the last of the blood trickle from her nose as she leaned forward, stroking his hair. It dripped over her cupid's bow and onto her lips just as he looked up at her, crystalline eyes blazing.
She smiled, and the drop of blood fell over her bottom lip, landing on his cheek.
His eye crinkled shut, for just a moment, to protect itself from the splash.
He had pretty eyelashes, long and dark.
She looked beautiful. Her teeth were stained with red, her nose blooming with an array of color from the dried, drying, and fresh blood.
“L- let me taste you…,” his fingers pressed against her chin.
“Okay,” the words were less than a whisper as they left her lips. She crumbled, back pressed against the fake wood of the sink. Even on his knees, he completely enveloped her as he took her lips in his. He wasted no time pushing his tongue into her mouth, drinking up the iron flavor embedded in the gaps of her teeth.
— 07/21/26
A knock on the door made him pull away.
“Hey fuckers,” his roommates voice boomed. “Hurry the fuck up. I need to shit.”
She rolled her eyes. “That bitch.”
He said nothing, gathering her in his arms and draping her flannel over her back.
He opened the door.
His roommates eyes widened, just for a second, before his usual smirk graced his features. “Aw. Damn. Remind me to play some fuckin’ white noise tonight or something.”
He pushed past them as Bert stepped out.
She flipped him off as they scraped past.
He just snorted.
Next thing she knew he was tossing her on his bed.
His room was plain, but clean. Not that she expected a lot out of him. He was a simple guy. Except for the blood thing, maybe. But that made him hotter, so she wasn’t complaining. A single cute figurine of some sort of fluffy animal caught her eye, garnering a second glance, but him working at the button of her jeans was a bigger distraction.
She could’ve sworn she saw steam rising from his body; a mix of embarrassment, stress, and excitement. He mumbled something incoherent.
“What was that?” She propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. He had the button undone, and her zipper down, but his hands rested on his knees.
He mumbled the same thing again. “Bert, speak up. I can’t hear you.”
“I love you.” He looked at her through his long lashes.
“I love you too, baby.”
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