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He could feel animation coming back into Seti, wasnt sure whether to breath with him once more, decided against it. To step back and give the demon some room. He had done what he could...all he knew how to, and that was only from stories and films. It was strange that Kirus had lived over almost 250 years and he had not life experience at all.

He squeezed Seti's arms lightly, once more, before releasing altogether and stepping away, he brought one hand up to brush back his own hair. He decided that the best thing to do now, was to wait, unless Seti instructed otherwise..if he could in his state anyway.

Kirus was pressing Seti down as soon as he had fallen "dont move" he ordered, only realising now that Seti was probably not comfortable, it hadnt mattered in death.
There wasnt really anything he could do, move Seti to the sofa's...it seemed too risky, the cold hardwood floor of the bar might ground the demon.

It was strange to think that they were still in such a public surrounding, he guessed the others were all either too scared or too respectful to try and stop them.
He rose and walked unevenly to the bar, ordering quickly, shortly, a glass of ice cubes. The request was filled with speed, the tender flashing worried eyes to Seti, Kirus and back again, before looking away.

Kirus resumed his place at the others side and slid one cold cube across the demon's lips. Another human tradition he thought may work a little.

"I dont want you to sit up, but you cant drink on that angle, just take it in your mouth" he commanded softly, not really even knowing if Seti drank water, it would be some kind of wake up call if not refreshment he figured. He wished he wasnt hampered down by human tradition and lack of demonology.
He thought about asking the scared looking customers if anyone knew first aid, to scream at them for standing there like fish gawping at the scene, or to tell them to hide their eyes. For a moment he felt so exposed, and it didnt bother him that they were looking at him, but if he were Seti, he would loath to be seen so weakened.

After a moment he asked softly "tell me what to do"

The weakness was almost tangible, and he layed a palm falt on Seti's chest, motioning him not to move or speak at least for a few moments more. "forgive me" he uttered, softly, not thinking it would have been so much to ask.
Instead he allowed his coat to slip from his shoulders, pooling behind him in a sea of crimson silk. In some strange parody of romantic motion pictures, he folded the garment softly, and propped his companions head onto its softness, next doing the only thing he could think of to return the others strength. The only way he had ever learnt how. Was unsure if it would ever work for Seti.

His gloves slipped from his hands next, kid leather slapping to the floor softly, as a glass like finger nail was already at his wrist. The blood pooled a little before flowing. It had not been so long since his last feed, not so much as to clot the blood, not enough to make it warm. He never said this would be entierly pleasent for Seti, didnt think the demon cared right now. Couldnt protest if he wanted.

He moved his wrist over the lips of the fallen demon, wine over water.
"forgive me"
he asked again, unsure this time who he was asking.

Kirus allowed his own eyelids to flutter shut, shadowing against the paleness of his cheek, his expression something between worry, sterness and odd pleasure.
It had been so long since another creature had drunk from him, and in allowed blood sharing such as this, there was something sacred.
He concentrated himself a little, letting his body relax, trying to feed his strength into his friend.

((o.o oookay?? It wouldnt let you write nipping? Didnt know they could...or they warned you or..?))

Kirus' eyes snapped open at the sound of coughing, the feeling of the body convulsing beneath him. He whipped his arm away, and tipped Seti forward, in an attempt to let the excess blood drip from his mouth and away from his blocked throat. "shh" he coaxed, his palm flat and calming on the others back.

Kirus waited for Seti to stop coughing then eased him back onto the floor, taking a handkercheif from his top pocket, white lace foam to wipe away crimson stains, first from his own arm, and then, more gently from the demons face. After this he tucked it neatly away again, the only remaining white square of lace, from where his fingers had pinched at, poking from the pocket of his shirt.
He sat back on his heels then, not knowing what else to do, hands resting gently on the floor.

Kirus' hand lay flat on Seti's chest, pressing him down gently, grounding him a little. "nothing to be sorry for, my friend" he said warmly, perhaps the most honest he had ever been with Seti, or at least most open. It wasnt often Kirus showed his emotional spectrum, yet here he was, trying to comfort the wounded. He wasnt entirely sure why.