I know. [There’s what Larus seemed on the edge of telling him earlier, his own secret, and now the contract.

It’s almost exhausting to think about getting through all of it, but that’s only because of everything they both went through this evening. He knows it’ll be much more doable once he’s rested for at least a few hours.]

Tonight I’ll draw the curtains [And probably throw towels over the cracks, for good measure.] and then we can spend as much time as needed tomorrow to work everything out.

[The light scratching of nails at his arm brings the smallest smile to his face. At the request for clothes, Dorian nods. He’s about half-listening at this moment, as his eyes fall upon the fully-revealed mark on Larus’ chest that was once the site of where he’d been gouged straight through. It’s incredible to him, suddenly, that the man hadn’t died.]

They missed the heart. [Dorian’s voice is a murmur, as he reaches out to touch the skin beside the mark. A deep frown settles over his features.] But barely.

[They’re both tired and they’ve already pushed off this conversation, but the small surge of anger at knowing how much worse this almost was is compelling.]

Did you see any of their faces or was it too dark?