[ just as promised, angel stops before it crosses that line of having gone too far, taking as much as he's sure she can handle being without. he shifts back into his human features and lifts himself up, grabbing the closest free piece of cloth - one of his shirts, he's got dozens of other black shirts just like it - and presses it to her neck over the wound from his bite. he smiles down at her, affectionately. ]
no subject
Not many've let me do that.