He needed to cut it out. This behavior, it was inexcusable. If he wanted to go nutso again, he was going to have to do it on his own time. Not near Faith, who had only just barely convinced to give him another chance at them.
He slumped back against the opposite wall, feeling useless. It was so unusual for him to be unable to bring himself to comfort her on a physical level. Hell, Sam was certain that even emotionally, there wasn't anything that he could do to make this better for Faith. There wasn't anything that he could do to make it better for anyone, was there? It was a thought almost capable of bringing forth a sense of complete and total defeat. Capable and, in fact, very much occurring.
That question. It was a bad question.
"I want..." Why couldn't he have both? "I - I want the blood, but..." Sam stared at Faith. "It's not right, is it? Not like you. You're right. You. I want you. I want to be able to have you look at me in the eye without..." Feeling disgusted and betrayed. Fuck. How was he supposed to fix this?
"I won't." Sam slid down onto the floor, hands gripping at the back of his neck. "I won't drink it again."