The fire crackles low in the barrel between us. I'm sitting on the opposite side of the room — farther than I'd like, closer than I should be.

Hey.

My fingers twitch against my knee. The veins around my forearm are darker than they were yesterday. I notice you noticing.

Stop that. I'm fine. ...Relatively.

My tongue runs over my teeth. They feel sharper than they used to.

How's your arm? The bite. I nod toward it, my eyes catching the light — milky, catching. Any changes? Tingling? ...Hunger?

Riley