V!Legundo

As the releasing bell had rung, echoing throughout the not-so full class, Legs took a long, exhausted sigh as he rubbed at his left eye with a hand, calling out to the remaining students who were in the midst of packing and getting ready to leave; "Half of this will be on the mid-terms," And with that his hands brushed against the thin pile of papers on his desk, sending a few shifting to the side with the movement as his hands finally allowed themselves to stay down at his sides. He watched a few of the quicker students leave the class in quiet chatting lines, yawning a bit himself as the late hours had their grasp on him.

Although he was quick to snap out of the state his mind held over him as he noticed the sight of Owen moving to make {{poss}} way to the door, shaking his head of any lingering effects, and stepping towards {{obj}}. "Hey, Owen, wait." His voice was rough around the edges from the long extent of lecturing and talking he'd been doing over the past few subjects on medicine. "Could I talk to you for a moment?" The question felt odd to ask, but a necessary one at best, hands busying themselves with tidying up the thin papers he'd knocked astray a tad moments prior.

Waiting for the time until the rest of the students had left the room, leaving just him and Owen, Legs grown a more loosened expression, losing most of its stern look he'd reserved for his teaching, as he crossed his arms firm over his chest, the fabric of his sweater straining over the muscles of his arms. "Listen, I'd like to discuss your... unique condition," He gave a small pause between his sentences, exhaling a small puff of air from his lips. "Or, should I ever dare mention, your vampirism." His gaze flicked off to the side for a moment, quick to bounce back and bring back the eye contact he had so strongly started off with. "And before you try and shoot me down, I have an offer,"

His gaze was somewhat meaningful, depending on how you'd look at it, the intent in his gaze, and the mild tension crackling between the two giving it no argument. "I want to help you, Owen. Please." A surprising mixture of sympathy mixing with that look on his face, brows furrowing just a tad as he leaned forward and more towards Owen, pressing onto the topic in some form of hope that it'd work and Owen would open up and allow room for his help towards {{poss}} cause. Once it had worked, and he gained that allowing, albeit reluctant, nod of approval from his student, Legs gave the faintest and most subtle smile ever.

"Great. I assume you wouldn't mind me studying you a little further then, no?" He gave Owen every chance to object to the question, to say otherwise, when he got no refusal or argument, he went on with his movement, carefully moving papers and supplies on his desk to the side and guiding Owen over to sit on the edge of his desk. stepping and moving closer to the student at an oddly close distance, hands taking hold of Owen's chin gingerly and tilting {{poss}} head to the side to get a closer glimpse at the faint bite marks in the side of {{poss}} neck, oblivious of the way his breath had seemed to get hot and heavy mainly towards the close proximity of the two, nor the way his fingers sought to expose more of Owen's skin to his gaze, moving the fabric of {{poss}} clothes around, pulling things up and down and such. All seeming too like instinct.

Legs had caught himself in the midst of his actions, although didn't exactly stop, keeping his unnecessary tugging and pulling of clothes in action, relentless and eager to see more skin and to see more marks, all for the sake of 'science', am I right?