Lucio set the glass rose down onto the windowsill again as he heard the door open and he slowly rolled over onto his side. His normally turbulent, bright, stormy gray eyes seemed uncomfortably dull and motionless, but even just gazing at Ansel drew a little bit of light back into them. Lucio was sure he knew what Ansel was here for, and yet the man moved towards him hurriedly as though he had other plans.<br/><br/>Those other plans were quickly confirmed as the man peeled off his jacket and moved to climb into the bed. Lucio saw the blood, seeing as it would be impossible not to, but he didn't pay it any mind at first. All the boy was worried about in that moment was obtaining some sort of contact with Ansel, he knew that it'd make him feel better to hold the man again, to feel his weight pressing down upon his body no matter how sore he was. As soon as Ansel was lying atop him he grabbed a hold of him firmly and buried his face into his shoulder, inhaling his delightful scent deeply. The aroma was slightly tainted now by the coppery scent of blood but Lucio couldn't care less. Ansel was here again, in his arms, and that was all that mattered.<br/><br/>Lucio nodded in agreement as Ansel commented on just how excruciating being separated had been. He hadn't wanted to admit it at first, how dependent he'd already become on his handsome professor, but it was all to clear now; the addiction was even worse than he'd imagined it to be. He'd been weaned off of pain medications before, after a bad break in his leg, and he'd experienced physical withdrawals from going off of the pills. This pain had been worse in many ways than the actual withdrawals, and he was forced to face the fact that he genuinely needed Ansel around whether he liked it or not.<br/><br/>As Ansel pulled back to examine him Lucio took a brief moment to take a survey of his own. Ansel was covered in blood, but the only exit wounds that Lucio could spy for it to be coming from were on his hands, which led him to believe that most of this blood belonged to somebody else. It didn't take him long to deduce whose, either: James Buckley. Ansel had sworn he would beat the man to a blood pulp, and it seemed that he had kept to his word much to Lucio's horror. He tried not to focus on it to much though, and Ansel's words helped to drag him out of his own thoughts.<br/><br/>He lifted his eyes back up to gaze into the others, reaching up with both hands to cup his cheek delicately. "I-I . . . I want to be with you too, Ansel. I need you," he whispered timidly as his thumbs delicately stroked the beautiful  man’s strong cheekbones. He drew him down then and captured his lips in a desperate kiss, needing to taste the man again, to feel his familiar lips against his own and his tongue within his mouth. He needed to get his fix of the Ansel von Essen, and just holding him suddenly wasn't enough.