While Jackie was gone, De’Tearion was slowly starting to stir. It wasn’t enough to fully awaken, but he was partially aware of his surroundings. When she came back, he smelled the fresh meat, then the blood. That eased him closer to consciousness.
Then, when the blood approached him, and a bottle rested against his lips, it was enough to finally break him out of the depths of his deep sleep. De’Tearion’s eyes slowly flickered open, and his hand grabbed the bottle, his thumb blocking the top before Jackie could pour any of the blood into his mouth.
The glow in his eyes was dim, far more than it had ever been since before De’Tearion and Jackie had met. It allowed the ‘true’ indigo color of his eyes to show a bit, but in a way that was alarming, since he was clearly very ill.
His worsening health was also obvious by the way he held the bottle. His grip wasn’t very strong and his hand shook slightly, and the bottle would normally be nothing for him to hold.
De’Tearion breathed deeply and gently moved aside the bottle without taking it from Jackie. He then sat up slowly, his arms visibly shaking. Nausea crept up on him and De’Tearion took a few more deep breaths. It, unfortunately, didn’t help at all, and De’Tearion teleported out of sight.
Without even realizing it, De’Tearion had appeared outside of Jackie’s home, barely twenty feet away from the front door. And there, the exertion from teleporting proved to be the last straw, and he vomited blood. The fit lasted a few minutes, leaving him in an agonized daze, his abdomen practically burning with pain.
De’Tearion had just enough energy to wipe his lips and crawl a bit away from the large, black puddle he’d left, before he collapsed into a true coma.
(Once again, yes, I’ve written this before, lol)