[ The half-eaten core is set beside him on the bench -- he thought about tossing it, but he shouldn't litter -- and then he uses the other hand to gently brush the sleeve out of the way. ] I'm still hungry, Miranda. [ Carefully, he brings her hand up (if she'll let him). His nostrils flare and eyes slip closed as he takes in the scent of her. God help me, he thinks, fresh sources should not be this intoxicating; this tempting. His lips part as he sighs, and there is the barest hint of his fangs there. ] I don't want to hurt you, but I need... you.