Novel & Cerita Thirst

I felt weak and I couldn’t stand up on my own, my lips were cracked, and exhaustion overtook me until the next bouts of vomiting woke me. Adara tried to get me to drink water but even that made me feel nauseous. My head hurt, my eyes felt scratchy, and my throat was raw, my body ached as I rolled to the side and vomited into the bucket again. I laid back on the pillow and closed my eyes. I heard Jessica again and I almost started crying, it was almost midnight. Malachi had to hold my head back and Jessica had to pour the last bit of the liquid down my throat as I gagged and coughed and tried to swallow. Adara was wiping my face with a cold face cloth as I started shivering again.

"I just... Fuck. I can't even think about you touching someone else without this surge. It's intense. It's not even about sex. I just want to get it in you. In some way. In every way." Quill blinked. "That sounded like a threat." Hawk nodded slowly. "It is a threat. I've never wanted anything this badly, and it's not even about getting off. I want to finish something. Like, legacy shit. I can feel it." Quill shifted uncomfortably. Lily reappeared from the side hallway with a damp rag in her hand and an expression that said she'd heard most of that. "You want to explain what that means?" They both turned.

The memory of his caresses and kisses remained vivid, making her throat feel dry and tight. She was literally thirsty, and she felt as though she were breaking into a sweat from the heat igniting deep within her. She yearned to drift away into ecstasy with Franz once more. The thought of spending the night alone, without him by her side, felt incredibly lonely. He went to the mini-fridge in his room and grabbed a bottle of water. He opened it and downed the contents in one go. Once his thirst was temporarily quenched, he decided to take off his sleepwear because he was sweating profusely.

Her parents tried to connect with her through their vampiric powers but failed. Maya was in the jungle. She was hunting. She killed many animals and drank their blood, but her thirst was not quenching. The more she drank blood, the more thirsty she was becoming. She didn't realize it was her anger and pain, not thirst which was bothering her.

~ ~ ASTRID ~ ~ Darkness. Then a dull ache , throbbing. My chest felt hollowed out, a raw, gaping wound. My throat was on fire. I tried to swallow, but it felt like sandpaper scraping against bone. It wasn't just dry; it was a deep, burning thirst that clawed at my insides, a hunger unlike anything I’d ever known. Every cell in my body screamed for moisture, for relief. A faint light pierced the black behind my eyelids. I forced them open.

Insatiable. Nicholas’ throat bobbed once, as he watched her from across the room. His gaze trailed to the tall, narrow window, where he looked at the large, imposing moon. It shone brightly, painted a deep red. His skin felt hot, his throat dry. He could feel the thirst, too. That need to sink his fangs into tender, warm flesh. To feel the blood coat his tongue, fill his mouth. But it was still one certain, lush neck he yearned to nuzzle into, to kiss. To lick. One certain life-giving elixir he was yearning to taste again. Diana’s.

I could feel and see his heartbeat and it became even more enticing. " Arya, Look at me, get a hold of yourself. He shook me hard but I didn't listen. " I...I just want a bite," I struggled to say. Itching to grab his neck and suck every bit of blood in his body. My teeth itched so bad I could feel it increase in length likewise my throat. I'm so damn thirsty! Not for water but blood.

Buff until it shines. Over and over. I moved slowly. My body felt impossibly heavy, like gravity had doubled overnight and was pressing me down into my chair. The room had a strange hazy quality, the edges of my vision blurring and vibrating with a low level static that made everything feel unreal. Thirst. God, the thirst was constant now. An ache in my throat that never went away. My tongue felt like a piece of dry felt stuck to the roof of my mouth. My lips were cracked and bleeding in the corners.

Hope was a dangerous thing, it bloomed bright in your chest, only to twist into darkness, into something dangerous until you gave up, until there was nothing left to take, and it left you an empty shell of the person you used to be. Cinderblock walls with scratched names, tally marks, and obscenities from those that came before him, stared back at him. The sweat, mildew, and ammonia was heavy in the air, almost damp with the little circulation present. The worst part was the waiting. Listening to grown men pray, curse, and sometimes cry before their names were called, made the waiting seem longer.

The elusive sustenance she sought remained as distant as the moon that cast its pallor upon the landscape. In the throes of her solitude, Carla's strength waned, giving way to the gnawing hunger that hollowed her insides. The relentless thirst added an arid layer to her plight, as if the very essence of her being cried out for nourishment. Her steps became more uncertain, her resolve tested by the relentless demands of her body.