“Daniel is here. Can you sense him?”
 
 I balk because that was an interesting choice of words. Slowly, Alexander opens his eyes. They’re paler than usual and unfocused, but he’s responsive. After another moment, his eyes flicker up and land directly on me.
 
 “Hey,” I say, matching Raphael’s quiet tone. “Are you alright?”
 
 Something in the air around Alexander shifts and shimmers. He doesn’t move and I don’t either, because his eyes are locked on me as they begin to warm and alight. Soon, he’s staring at me from the pillow with golden-firelight eyes, just like before when I pinched him.
 
 Except this time, there’s no flinching or running away. His stare is unabashed. Unapologetic.
 
 “Well, now,” Raphael says, glancing sideways at me. “That’s quite the reaction.”
 
 Spellbound, I swallow. “Um… yeah.”
 
 “Is this the first time that this has happened?”
 
 There’s no reason for me to lie about it, so I don’t. “Not the first time.”
 
 “Interesting.”
 
 Shaking my head, I snap myself out of the trance. “Do you still have Oliver’s blood?”
 
 “I do. It’s locked away.”
 
 “Can you bring some here? Along with the other blood you tried to give him? We—You… This has to be done slowly, alright? Little by little.”
 
 “Okay,” he says. “I’m with you.”
 
 “How much of Oliver’s blood was he drinking?”
 
 “He was being sneaky about it, so I’m not a hundred percent certain. But I think he was drinking half-a-bag per week? Not because he was trying to wean himself off, though. It was to stretch it out as long as he could.”
 
 “That’s fine—can you bring a small glass of his blood, and also the neutral bag, please?”
 
 He gives a shallow nod and smiles. “I’ll be right back. You can sit on the edge. He won’t bite.”
 
 Raphael strides out of the room and I watch as he goes. He leaves the door cracked and I sit along the edge of the mattress. Alexander’s eyes glow fiercely as he stares into my face, unspeaking.
 
 “Can you sit up?” I ask.
 
 Alexander shifts himself upright. He moves, never taking his eyes off of me, as if he’s examining every detail of my face and it is… unnerving. “You’re just staring at me,” I say quietly. “It’s uncomfortable.”
 
 His eyes drop to his hands above the comforter, like a child that’s been scolded. Those two golden bands are wrapped around the ring finger of his right hand and they sparkle despite the ambient light of the room.
 
 “I’m not angry,” I explain, feeling a strange urge to soothe him. I adjust my seating because my nature is doing funny things inside of me, like trickling warmly as it flows up and down my spine. “Raphael shouldn’t have cut you off like this. We’ll fix it,alright?”
 
 He’s silent as I look him over. His hair is a tousled mess and the bags underneath his eyes are prominent. Alexander is always perfectly put together—even when he comes to help at the safe house. Like he’s well-equipped with a versatile closet that holds an outfit for every occasion. Clean, durable pants and sweatshirts for home improvement projects. Smart, handsome casual-wear for peddling wine at a village market.
 
 Today, though, and aside from his cozy-looking pajamas, he’s in disarray. He stares down at his hands and I don’t… I don’t know what comes over me, but I reach out, cautiously, and brush my fingers against his knuckles.
 
 “You’ll get through this,” I assure him.
 
 Gently, he turns his hand over and meets my fingers with his open palm. He hesitates, as if he isn’t sure my hand is something he can touch. I breathe, closing the gap as I slide my palm into his and brush the cold metal of his rings. He wraps his fingers around mine, securing our grip.
 
 When we’re connected, he lifts his head and meets my eyes.
 
 I didn’t think my heart was capable of beating this fast in my chest, or pulsing this loudly in my ears and temples. A shimmery warmth is centered between our palms. Lovingly, it brushes up my arm and down my torso. I glance away from him because the heat of it is overwhelming. Feeling so much activity in my body after sensing almost nothing for so, so long.
 
 This isn’t emptiness, animosity and pain like I’ve grown accustomed to. It’s bright and sweet. Timid, soft and wonderfully good.