It takes no particular skill to recognize beauty where it is surrounded by atrocity.

[How pretty, that shining strand that keeps them connected. A pity to sever it, however necessary to do so as he hooks those same fingers beneath Adrian's chin and lifts his face as if to appraise it.]

Blood clings to me elsewhere than just my hands.

[His voice is breathless, anticipatory.]

Or have you had your fill already?