Sora was on her hands and knees again, searching for the source of the voice. Finally, she found enough courage to call out.
“Is someone there?” she asked.
“Sora?” the voice was hoarse, and it was followed by another vicious coughing fit.
“Aysen! Where are you? What happened?” Sora said, recognizing the vampire’s voice; she hustled forward until he grabbed her wrist in a chilling grip.
Sora reached out, a few strands of her ebony hair stuck to her cheeks; she was scared. Scared for him.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
Silence, for a while.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered.
“You’re lying,” she said quietly—not accusingly, just simply as if she were stating a matter of fact.
She felt upwards, towards his shoulders, until she could finally feel his neck. Propping him up, she used her own body weight to hoist both of them to their feet.
There was a burst of warmth where her left palm was located. Sora’s muscles tensed as the metallic scent hit her nostrils.