[ There are so many fears that would have made him hesitate right now. Fear of what it would do to her. Of what she would think. Fear of what would happen to his reputation; all the friends he's made here; of what consequences would befall Diva should news of this spread.
But her words pierce through all that, because he feels that she is too honest. Yes, he has been gullible in the past, but of the few people he feels he can truly trust in this place, she is one of them. Miranda would never betray him, right?
And he would never betray her. She needs to know that he trusts her offer, too, and that she has an out. Though it means taking more time, he reaches down with a hand to pick up the dropped knife and place it in her other hand. Closing her fingers around it tightly, he looks her in the eye as he brings her hand closer to his mouth, teeth long and eager.
--but he won't go for the neck, because that's too obvious. How many days did he wear that bandage? How many chances did he avoid being asked "what happened? those wounds look weird!"? Too many. He can't take that risk. ]
Thank you. [ That is the last he speaks before he presses his lips over the wound on her hand, tilting it and cupping it like one might tip back a bowl to get to the last bit at the bottom, but there just isn't enough of a flow... ]