Dorian ran his long fingers over the piano keys, his eyes on Basil. The man stood only a few feet away, towering over the small easel, a very concentrated look on his face.

Seeing that he wasn't getting a rise out of the Basil, Dorian seated himself, now leaning back on the piano keys in a very seductive pose, "What has you so interested that my playing doesn't pause you?"

Basil looked from his canvas and for a moment he stared at Dorian, "I must finish this." He said softly, his eyes slowly going back to his artwork again.

Dorian studied the man for a moment. There really wasn't much to Basil. He was quite scrawny which made his large head look rather improper on his thin neck. The skin that led from his throat to his chest had gathered an ashen glow that made Dorian cringe. It seemed that Basil would make quite the nice corpse someday, if only he would die.

His eyebrows were horrendous and would have to be dealt with at some point in their journey together. Dorian had offered to pluck them for him, but he had declined. He didn't think it proper to be so vain about such a small matter.

Dorian's finger gently tapped at one of the keys producing a rather annoying note over and over again. He hardly noticed he was doing it as he stared at Basil.

Something else that would have to be dealt with on the man was the problem of his unshaven face. Dorian had never seen him with so much hair on his cheeks and chin. It was rather disgusting and Dorian wasn't about to sit around with someone who had such poor hygiene.

"We really must do something about your face, Basil." Dorian said softly, his dark eyes studying the furrow that was now settling onto Basil's forehead, "I'll be gentle with you."

Basil let out a sigh, bringing his gaze to Dorian; "You're tiring the subject, Dorian."

"And you're beginning to look like Lucifer all the time." Dorian said as he mashed down four fingers on four of the keys to produce a startlingly harsh note, "For the six hours that you aren't a canine, you really should try to look your best. I would find your company more appealing."

Basil looked haunted for a moment, his cheeks more sunken, "If it bothers you so much then I will let you do with me as you will." He shook his head tiredly and went back to his painting.

Dorian grinned lightly, "Um…and what exactly is my will?" he purred, knowing that Basil harbored a painful need for him.

Basil shuddered gently, but didn't look to Dorian; "You shouldn't toy with me." He said, his eyes suddenly so sad. It was the sadness in knowing that he would never have Dorian Gray.

"I'm hardly toying with you dear Basil. I'm merely occupying my time with easy conversation and a few subtle hints." Dorian now turned to the piano, his fingers finding the keys, "You've gotten so sensitive."

"I imagine I have become fragile. Weak. But you added to my poor state of mind when you stabbed me in the throat that dreaded night. Or do you forget that little drama that unfolded in that small room with the brash wooden table and your horrid face clinging to the canvas that I produced you on?" Basil said in a horse whisper.

Dorian stared at his fingers. They seemed foreign to him. Almost lost to the white of the keys of the piano. Were these his hands? He couldn't be sure. He turned them over to gaze at his palms. He was sure he could see Basil's blood caked to the lines of his skin. He slowly turned them back over and rested them on the piano keys.

Basil was still going on and on. Dorian was sure that he would shut up soon, but it seemed that he meant to rehash the whole incident from beginning to end.

Slowly Dorian turned to look at him; "It would be nice if you could just get over that little tragedy in your life."

"Little tragedy?" Basil said softly with a look of confused horror on his face, "I guess being murdered isn't that big of a deal to you."

Dorian shrugged, "Just an inconvenience."

Basil's eyes lit with a bewildered exhaustion; "You have no remorse?"

Dorian rolled his eyes lightly and turned back to the piano, "You were never dead."

"That is true, but you didn't know that I can't die. You murdered me, Dorian Gray." Basil had now put down his paints. He was wiping his large hands on a towel, "You have no guilt?"

"I have no time for guilt. It bores me." Dorian eyed the keys at his fingers, "Why don't you go find Mina and the two of you can compare the holes in your necks."

Basil scoffed lightly at Dorian's unkind words, "I think I will go out for a bit. I still don't know why I saved you from the painting again. And now I stand here a cursed man. A man who has to live as a dog and can only be human for six hours in the night. I took on this curse so that you could live again and there is no remorse in you?"

Dorian's answer came in the form of music echoing from the belly of the grand piano.

It was a haunting melody that seemed to transverse the room about him, making everything in it look darker. The candles seemed to flicker more violently, sending puffs of black smoke up to the detailed ceiling. Dorian took strange delight in the powerful music vibrating through his skin.

He heard the door open and slam shut as Basil left the room.