[ Despite the layer of frost that Alucard's nose pushes away, his skin is hot to the touch in a way that fever couldn't account for. Almost painfully so. He doesn't stir, that takes too much energy, but a raspy voice comes from somewhere behind a mess of long, matted, knotted hair. ]
Go back to your quarters. This'll- this is good. You'll both be free to leave soon.
no subject
Go back to your quarters. This'll- this is good. You'll both be free to leave soon.