I Want Her Dead

Rivan returned from his meeting and found Xiran had gained consciousness but was still in bed. 

"Frila, did he eat anything?" he inquired after she told him that he was awake. 

"Good evening Señor! No, he only drank some blood. He said he wasn't hungry," worries marred her face. 

"Prepare food for him and bring it into the room, we will eat together," he instructed before making his way to the room. 

Opening the door he found him sitting on the bed staring at the wall in front of him. Anguish flawed his handsome face, he seemed lost, unaware, and depressed.

"Xi!" Rivan called out to him softly and stepped closer.

"Hey!" Xiran turned to face his friend. His grey orbs were still moist and a permanent sadness had descended on them. 

"How are you feeling?" Rivan sat down next to him and placed his hand on his arm. 

"Lost...," he said in a voice that held all his pain and all his sufferings.