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Rojas slumped over on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. He had already changed into his shorts and contemplated just sleeping sprawled across the bed. He mustered what strength he had left and sat up, carefully removing the metal prosthetic that was his left shin. Gently he ran a hand over the stump and swore that for the slightest of moments he could still feel fangs biting down on flesh he knew was no longer there and sighed. “You two over do it again?” Des’Arae said from behind her book. She had her thin rimmed glasses on, which Rojas thought looked really cute on her, though anytime he mentioned it she scowled at hi