Schuldich opened his eyes blearily as the knocking on his door finally registered.
*Must be a maid to clean up,* he thought as he shuffled over to open the door.
He staggered back in surprise. Schweigen closed the door, and advanced upon the rapidly panicking German, laughing.
"I told you you couldn't get away, mein Schuldig." He backed the redhead up so that he fell backwards onto the bed, and pinned him there, one arm on either side of him.
"Let me go!" said the younger man, trembling.
"Nein. Why would I want to let go of such a precious treasure?" he smirked, running a possessive finger lightly down the side of the redhead's face, tracing an invisible scar.
"You look a lot healthier than the last time I saw you. I was hoping the scar would stay." His hands moved lower, and his eyes narrowed.
"And I'd certainly like to know how you came to whore for that tightassed American."
"I'm not --" Schuldich's reply was cut off as Schweigen lifted a hand again to press against his throat.
*I'm not a whore!*
A whore sleeping on a bed of lies.You're mine.Yes...Crying? My, and here I'd thought you'd grown in the years we'd spent apart.No escape. No escape.My guilty one.