[ That fear only adds to Crowley's hunger even more. As if teasing him, tempting him to sink his teeth into Dextera's neck without any second thoughts -- but there's something more primal to each and every one of his thoughts. Wanting to watch as the fear surfaces, unraveling into a monster that's far too similar to when he had first became a vampire and nearly starved himself.

He does notice the heat against his chest, but does he care?

Of course not. ]

Good boy. Stay just like that for a little while longer.

[ However, there still remains a more coherent part of him despite everything. Perhaps the memory of being a vampire is what saves him from outright tearing into the man as if he were startled rabbit, twitching with a desire for blood more so than flesh. But that would require biting him. If he bit him -- ]

Damn it, why are you like this? [ There's strain to his voice, as there is evidence of him having to physically and mentally reel himself back tracing across the features of his face. ] Act like that and anyone without a sense of control will wanna bite right into you, then who's gonna help us?