[ Dimly, Asa's aware of being put down somewhere. Some small, stupid part of her feels annoyance at being robbed of the warmth of his body, of having the human touch she's always longed for as her last memory. Not that she deserves it, but still. It would have been nice. Then comes a scent that makes her groan and instinctively lick her lips in anticipation, though the smell of blood alone isn't enough to fully rouse her again.
Her eyes are clouded; she doesn't respond, but the muscles in her jaw are slack enough to open easily. If she knew what he was planning, she'd be far more resistant (in theory, anyway, it's not like she can actually do much), but even though she's obviously aware of devils using blood to heal — she'd given her own to Denji, after all, back when a little thing like the Falling Devil was their biggest problem — she never once considered doing it, even when she lost her arm. She's human. She's not like them. If she drinks blood, she loses the one thing keeping her truly separated from being more than just the host of the War Devil, and not a devil herself. ]
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Her eyes are clouded; she doesn't respond, but the muscles in her jaw are slack enough to open easily. If she knew what he was planning, she'd be far more resistant (in theory, anyway, it's not like she can actually do much), but even though she's obviously aware of devils using blood to heal — she'd given her own to Denji, after all, back when a little thing like the Falling Devil was their biggest problem — she never once considered doing it, even when she lost her arm. She's human. She's not like them. If she drinks blood, she loses the one thing keeping her truly separated from being more than just the host of the War Devil, and not a devil herself. ]