[ She walks toward the fridge and grabs a bottle of water from the shelf on the door before making her way back to where Holden was. She opens the bottle of water, and offers it to him. Not that she really expected him to drink it, but it was honestly worth a shot.
She just wished he’d tell her what was wrong. ]
“He’ll make you what, Holden?”
[ MJ watches as he sprawls himself across the couch and shakes her head as she sits on the floor a few inches from the couch with her legs folded carefully beneath each other. Maybe he was having a panic attack? Maybe he was… who was she kidding? She had no idea as to what was possibly wrong with him.
And her head is screaming at her to just stop asking questions, because he’s obviously not in his right mind. ]
“..yeah?”
[ Great, now she’s even more worried if that were even humanly possible. She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. ]
”You’re.. not going to die. You wouldn’t know if you were going to die.. it’s not possible.”
“Uh … I don’t know. Something.”
[ He eyes the water preeminently before taking it from her grip, avoiding skin contact. He doesn’t like her standing this close – it doesn’t do anything to help the fact that he can hear her blood pumping.
He takes a sip. It doesn’t soothe his throat, but at least his mouth isn’t so dry. Still, he’d be better off with something stronger. ]
“Do you have any alcohol?”
[ A sudden thought occurs to him, and he jerks up into a sitting position as the couch winces audibly in protest. Yanking his sleeve up, he examines the spot where the man had ––– oh, yeah. Vampire blood heals.
Guess he’s gotta eighty-six the rabid dog excuse, then. ]
“Mhm, yeah, it’s very possible. Pretty sure that’s how doctors treat terminal cancer.”
[ He’s not entirely sure what he’s saying; all that he knows is that his gums are sore as hell, and he doubts an advil’s supposed to help. ]
