End up hating yourself

"Where were you?" Magnus asked as he set the cup on the table. The ring on his index finger shone bright and he fixated his gaze on Alora.

"I was with Brother Alaric," she answered. Instead of sitting on a separate chair, Alora internationally sat on Magnus's lap, astonishing her. Her hands wrapped his neck and she looked at his lips. 

"Are you drinking blood?" Alora asked with inquisitiveness. 

"Yes." 

"Oh, then you should enjoy the drink." 

Alora almost stood up when he drew her back to his lap. His nose rubbed against her and he said, "Just stay here. I feel good when you are close." He licked his lips, his tongue moving to his fangs to wipe them clean. 

"Why does it seem that you are stressed about something?" Alora peered into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts. 

"I don't get stressed. I only feel agitated," Magnus remarked.