[He has heard countless vulgar words from Laurent's lips spoken before, but there is something insidious about this time, beside the gentle caress to his mouth. It is an impersonal demonstration of power. He's meant to be subjugated publicly here. They've never gone so far as suggested, but it isn't the lie that unsettles Sasuke as he reflexively guards himself against the implicit violence he suspects is coming.

The cuffs are hard, cold and heavy. He isn't used to having his left arm, and he finds himself flinching as both wrists are further bound, jerked at an uncomfortable angle behind his back. And then he is struck across the face with enough force to whip his head sideways.

Hanging tethered by the chain on his throat, blood drips in bright, gory red. The tiles shine with it. Sasuke looks down at this, bleary, running his tongue along the split skin on the inside of his cheek. He swallows, lifts his chin with the stoic defiance of someone who has been hit as many times in his life as Laurent has lied.

Sasuke is watching the two men, eyes black and narrow, until they are dismissed.]

Are you done, now that our audience is gone? [He rises to his feet, perfectly balanced despite immobile arms, so their faces are level — the strain of the position cuts the collar into his throat; he won't be able to follow if Laurent draws away.] You have me as helpless as a dog on a leash. I'm yours to abuse. So tell me why you're so afraid of him.

[His voice is a low, harsh whisper. Their proximity feels like it burns his skin, but that is not a new sensation; he looks a little too long at Laurent's pale, bowed mouth.]

If you want me to play this game with you, I need more. Because I don't care if I die here to do it. [To kill him.] I have nothing to lose.