Lana feels

Once upon a time, there was a boy, named Adam, and a girl, named Alana. And they were friends, and then they were more than friends. The events of this friendship have been explained in great detail in previous chronicals, so for now, we shall discuss the fingertip cuts. So on the day our story begins, young Adam and Alana were sitting in chemistry class, paying no attention to anything but each other, when young Adam started tasting blood in his mouth. This led to a rather peculiar discussion on the taste of and afinity for the taste of blood that was shared by both of our youngsters, though more so by young Adam. And at some point in this discussion, he made a request that if she could make herself bleed, she would let him taste it. So they spent the entirety of their break trying to make themselves bleed, and she eventually succeeded on her right thumb by the use of a soda can that he bit open for her. And as soon as a sizeable drop of blood welled up on the pad of her thumb, he sucked said digit into his mouth and cleansed it of the blood, which he declared good. This process was repeated until the thumb cut stopped bleeding responsibly. They attempted to stimulate the bloodflow, but with no great success, and had given it up as a lost cause when !SMASH! as they walked into the classroom, a fellow student dropped her glass snapple bottle on the floor, and it crashed into a thousand small, sharp pieces. Young Alana, who was walking by just then, casually bent over and retrieved one such small, sharp piece, and taking it back to her seat, proceeded to use it to cut a deeper, better-bleeding slash in her left index finger, which bled much better. They then spent the better part of the next ten minutes drinking the blood from that finger and making fingerprints with it and all sorts of other amusing things that can be done with bloody fingers. Then they re-opened the cut in his mouth, and did the same. The end.

A story, boyses and girlses. A story of sexual vampirism. Of all the things... In one 3-hour period, I let him drink my blood, and I kissed him (well, come on, there are only so many ways to get one's tongue to a cut on the roof of somebody else's mouth) in the middle of a crowded classroom, and I drank his blood, or at least tasted it quite thoroughly. We terrified everybody else in the class. Not to mention the people in the classrooms across the courtyard, even though all they saw was finger-sucking and tongue kissing, never mind the exchange of blood. I have become a very strange person somewhere along the line of my life. When I was eight, I finally discovered the exact mechanisms of sex. At the time, it seemed like the grossest thing, and now here I am making out in the middle of chemistry class and swapping blood along with our saliva. Ye gods.