'I didn't say anything about whether she was enjoying it,' Ketsu murmured, observing with a hum as the formerly-faint girl suddenly leapt up and began dashing round, finishing off her autograph to Grant and handing it to him before performing what seemed a very lively twirl. Which reminded him, as she was distracting everyone, that he still had some of her blood on his hand. He quickly licked it off.
And had to resteady himself to avoid falling into a state of sheer bliss like Himehana herself. Sweet lord... he knew she smelt good, but that was hands-down the best blood he'd ever tasted. It trumped even the chimera he'd tasted less than an hour before. It was like the best aspects of the freshest venison, lamb, Wagyu beef, who knew what else? It was delicate, and yet bold and heady too; sweet, yet with a pleasantly sour tang, like certain types of plum sauce if they actually tasted of plums; the mouthfeel was... well, the same as regular human blood, thinner for want of RC cells than that of the ghouls he preferred - but somehow, that enhanced the richness rather than diminishing from it, adding to an experience that was all but addictive.
And it was as fleeting as the droplet previously on his thumb, the blood dissolving in his saliva before he swallowed the flavour away, leaving him wanting for more. Dear God. Dear freaking God.
He might have to arrange a liason with Mika at some time in the future. As a "special fan". And now he had an excuse, right?
'Well, listen,' he began to say, making very certain his words came out evenly, 'I still feel bad about all that. Look- here-' Snatching up one of the unused napkins, and gently pulling the pen from her fingers, he wrote down his phone number on the piece of paper, then handed it and her pen to her. 'If there's anything you'd like off of me, just feel free to contact me whenever. Or if you just want to chat again in the future - I think Yuno and I both enjoyed your company, maybe a bit too much.'
If only she knew. Having said all that, he left her and her man-eater boyfriend to their devices, and returned to a drink that by now had been practically forgotten. Another lukewarm sip washed away any lingering flavours of blood, replaced by the taste of coffee, with the mildest hint of sugar taking the edge off the bitter.
Somehow, that latter point was suddenly far more bilious to him than Mika's flavour could ever be. He might just take his coffee straight black from now on.