The woman between Scorpius and Malum screamed, probably with a broken hip and not an orgasm, as I brainstormed names to call my pet crow. The slurping noises got louder. I pretended not to notice the fact that the girl on Horace’s bed was turning paler by the second and there was a concerning amount of blood pooling beneath her. Someone should probably stop him. He was latched onto her wrist and sucking like she was a milkshake. What a nice ambience. Zenith and Vegar were tangled under the covers on the far bed, and from the sloppy noises, they were making out passionately. And people said
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