8

"Trinket," Erik murmurs as he sits beside Raoul on the bed. He has a glass of clean water in his hand, and he slips an arm beneath the chain, lifting it enough to let Raoul move. "How she loved your worthless hide."

Raoul is allowed only a few precious sips at first, and it spills over his dry lips and down his chin. Erik takes the glass back, annoyed with the water that now dampens his sheets. He is wearing his black mask now, and Raoul can only see his lips below the piece. They are parted, in concentration. He is concentrating on Raoul. Deciding.