A Chance Worth Taking

Ethon appeared in the chair behind his desk as a student knocked on the door to his office. It was Miss Hansoff, to be precise. He had wondered how long she would think on his offer before she decided.

The man did not blame the child. He had long erred on the side of caution, himself. Furthermore, it was no small matter. It was literally life and death. It was only natural for her to have doubts and hesitations.

"Come," Ethon called, leaning forward to rest his chin in his palm. When the door opened, his blue-grey gaze settled unerringly upon her. He waited patiently for her to speak.

She stood outside of the door for a long time. Even though she had made her decision, even though she had brought herself her, she couldn't quite...

There was still so much to just...

It was still so much.

Still... there was nothing else for Faye to do. It was either this or-

She knocked on the door.

And was surprised to find an immediate responce, almost as if he had been... waiting for her. She supposed it was perfectly possibly that he could have been.

"P-Professor," Faye stuttered after freezing in the doorway for a few moments. Swallowing, she stepped inside, looking behind her, and then looking forward. "I'd... I'd like to take you up on your offer... if you are still offering it."

Ethon gave a small smile, the expression disarming despite his typically serious demeanor. He rose from his seat, moving around the desk to the glass case along the side wall. Opening the doors, he retrieved a small cloth-wrapped package and set it on the wooden shelf.

"I am," Ethon replied simply. "It's as I told you; part of the reason I wish to help you is that I find your illness unsettling. It is not wholly out of the goodness of my heart, you see. One might argue that I am far too old to still possess such a thing."

Unfolding the cloth, he spread it out, then righted the glass measuring cylinder that had been ensconced inside it. Ethon picked up the other item that had been with the cylinder. It a small all-metal knife.

"I don't imagine you'll wish to watch," the vampire cautioned. Raising the blade, he drew it across the inside of his wrist. He watched as his blood dripped into the glass cylinder, the crimson fluid rising even as its flow steadily slowed. By the time it was full, the cut had sealed itself.

Lifting the vessel containing his blood, he turned to the girl and extended it to her. "Milady," he said.

Faye inclinde her head to the side, watching the man as he spoke and moved about the room.

"I suppose... you're reasons do not matter," she spoke softly, her eyes focusing on the items he was pulling out, curious about the despite herself. "So long as it works, or.. that made me sound entirely selfish too... though I suppose I have a right to be."

She bit her lip, glancing over at the man only in time to see the blade push against his skin, before his advice took hold, and she glanced swiftly away. A nervous bubble was growing - it had already been there, but it was inflating further, threatening to overwhelm her.

Could she really do this? Could she really -

Her head snapped back at his words, her eyes flicking up to his face before glancing back at the down at the glass. Hesitiantly she took it from him, the liquid sitting thier, its thickness taunting her, the acridic smell managing to waft up to her nose.

There was no way she was ever going to be able to fool herself into thinking this was just a glass of butterbeer.

Still... as she had told herself countless times before, it was this or...

Well death.

Bringing the cup to her lips, the cold material causing her to hesitate, the reality truely sinking in. She was really going to do this. She was really going to -

"Cheers."

It was odd, watching as another drank his blood. Most odd, indeed. His blood could cure her, however, in a way that nothing else had proven able. He'd guess it would take several hours for it to course through her system, perhaps a day for it to ill the sickness of her own blood. She would be well, though, given a short span of time.

The thought made Ethon feel that perhaps his existence wasn't a complete waste, after all.

"Cheers," he echoed quietly. Indeed, she would have a great many more days for cheer - and everything else life could bring.

The taste hit her tongue, warm, bitter, metalic. There was a distinct vibrant taste that she was sure she'd never forget. It was unsettling to say the least.

Her first thought was that she'd just chug it back in one go, get it over with and perhaps (Except for the healing) pretend it never occured. However, the thick liquid stuck in the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow, wait a moment, before she could start again. It cause her to do this several times, making the whole process take much longer than she felt necessary.

And once it was done, she was left with nothing but the taste still in her mouth, and a slight obsession with touching her face, a part of her brain transfixed on making sure none of the blood had splashed out of the cup, leaving evidence for what she had done.

Silence rung out for a moment, as she was at a lose for what to do next. Did she just leave? Or perhaps she needed to stay for....

She did not know.

So, setting the cup on his desk, Faye said the only thing that came to her mind, "Thank you."