Maybe it was smothering. He didn't know, though. He just sort of defaulted to what was normal, what had been normal.  He'd need some time to make adjustments; maybe a lot of time, maybe a little, all depending on just how easy or difficult they make it for him.  He sighed, and tried not to take it personally, but as before, her refusal to feed on him felt like... it made him feel like he wasn't worthy. "I love you, too." He says, trying to be sincere, but still... still, the bad mood lingers, makes it seem insincere.  Who knows, maybe this would all turn out to be just too much for the poor human to handle. Only time would tell if this story ends in tragedy or happiness.<br/><br/>He watched her walk off, and slowly trailed his way through the house. He was listless, and slow in getting to the room that Cassidy mentioned. In his current state of not really giving a damn, he just finds a spot on the floor to lay down, on his stomach, hands folded on the ground, head resting on his hands. He stares at the wall. Slowly, but surely, the anger, pain, and yes, jealousy--the one thing he seemed to share with Cass--start to cool into melancholic malaise. Or, as some might say,<em>moping</em>.