Dustin was confused. Drink intake? Was that like some sort of blood concoction? Had to be. She was a vampire after all. He shook his head. â€œSet my mind on doing it? At first...yes. At first it was that. Now...now it is more. Now it is...instinctual.â€ He said truthfully. It was what it was. He had the urge to do it and did it like he was buttering bread. He looked to the guitar. â€œThat helps...sometimes. It doesnâ€™t always help...to play. To sing where others canâ€™t hear. It helps but it isnâ€™t a fix. It canâ€™t make true pain. It canâ€™t make the pain make sense.â€ He said softly. â€œIf it doesnâ€™t make sense then it is hard to deal with. Hard to handle what doesnâ€™t...isnâ€™t...real pain. With true pain...I know...I know why it is there. I know why I am feeling it. I can make sense of why I am feeling it.â€ He said softly. It was the truth. When he cut he could understand why he was in pain. He could understand why he hurt. That was a relief to him...to understand his pain. It wasnâ€™t something that you could easily explain to another.<br/><br/>He shook his head. There was nothing out there for him. He picked up the guitar and strummed it faintly. He had never received a hug. He had seen others give them but didnâ€™t equate it to hug. He had never been given anything positive. He was something that didnâ€™t deserve living. He had heard it so often that he believed it. He didnâ€™t comment on it at the moment. â€œLike what? I donâ€™t...agree with that. Maybe I was meant to be here but why? Why a human in a vampire and demon school? Even the weakest of demons or vampires could kick my ass.â€ He said with a sigh. â€œBesides...before my grandmother had me brought here I had nothing. This school is for the wealthy. Even I could see that. I had nothing and now I have money. I donâ€™t even know what to do with the money my grandmother put in an account for me. So it just sits there. It is too strange to go from poor to rich. It is confusing. I donâ€™t know how to handle it.â€<br/><br/>He smirked a bit. â€œIâ€™m not going to> I could care less that you are royalty. Iâ€™m not bowing and treating no one like they are better than me.â€ He sighed a bit. â€œEven if it is true. People are people. That is all there is to it. Some just got money while others have nothing.â€ He looked at her. â€œSo Iâ€™ll treat you like you and not your title.â€ He was being truthful. He ran a hand through his silken strands. He closed his bleeding palm. It was still bleeding. That cut had been deeper and in a place that would keep opening. It was a reminder to him. A reminder of the fact he was a failure. A wound that failed to be able to heal quickly like the others was a reminder he was worth nothing. That he served no purpose here yet for some reason was refused death. What reason could there possibly be for that? Every attempt he had been made had been countered by his guardian angel.<br/><br/>He hadnâ€™t seen her move forwards. He was lost in his own world. The touch made him jump and flinch. Recoiling as if he expected a blow to follow that touch. Touches were bad. They had been shown to be. He slowly, very slowly, relaxed when he realized it was her. That he wasnâ€™t back in hell. That it wasnâ€™t his father it was her. He let out a rush of air that he hadnâ€™t even realized he had been holding. He bit his lower lip as she talked. Staying a bit tense but didnâ€™t move. Almost afraid to move. Until she spoke and he had to focus on what she was saying. â€œI am alright...â€ He protested lightly. Something about the way she talked made him want to let her. He bit his lower lip. He turned his palm to her. The gauze covered the palm and criss crossed the back of his hand and led up higher into the sleeve. â€œIf you insist...â€ He said softly and reluctantly<br/><br/>He slowly undid his over shirt. Sliding the sleeves off him. The black tank top showed the toned and slightly chisled chest. Delicate muscles not overly pronounced. He slid the shirt off his left arm then slid it down his right arm. Starting the elbow the bandaging tape and gauze was slowly revealed. When the sleeve was completely off the bloody patches where each of the cuts were, all four of them, indicated where he had cut. He just laid his arm against his side silently. What was she going to say? The gauze was wrapped around the cuts then crisscrossed the back of his arm up to his elbow.