Geralt wanted so badly to look up again, to watch Aurel squirm under his gaze...but he couldn't make his intentions that obvious. If Lucien heard even a version of that story, he would have to explain himself, and he absolutely [i]hated[/i] explaining himself. With an inward sigh, he shook his head and said, [color=crimson]"Oh, of course, of course, how silly of me."[/color] He chuckled, sounding embarrassed himself, before stepping back and letting the curtain fall closed between them.

[i][color=crimson]Those scars were not made in lust, Geralt, the boy has suffered. He will suffer more. We will make it so.[/color][/i]

The Magician's companion had grown more and more impatient with each passing day, which certainly had not helped the man's mood. He was frustrated enough with himself for having made no progress with the object of his desire, and seeing no change in their relationship was beginning to grate on him. He'd thought for a moment when Lucien had excepted his proposal for the outing that had been promised, they may at least progress to something more sexual, but nothing had come of that night. It had been drinks between friends, as Lucien had made very clear to him. Despite the fact that the magician could feel a return of attraction from the Nephilim, the man was unwilling to act on it. It was as if he had put up a wall between the two of them, and try as he might Geralt could not scale it. He had been quite depressed by this, and responding to threats and angry taunts from the creature that shared his body had drained him of energy for other emotion. It simply didn't seem to grasp that this situation was more delicate than most, that Geralt would have to woo the man before he could make him fall. The creature would not accept this explanation and had been making its presence more and more of an inconvenience to the Magician, which had soured his mood entirely. On top of that, his shows were much less than fulfilling, and he was becoming bored with the same desperate act night after night for mere children. Every chance it got, the creature reminded him that he used to be a famous Magician, that he called the shots and ran the night, and that now he was under the thumb of a 'filthy winged half-breed'. It was all very tiresome, to say the least, and now the only thing keeping him around was the promise of obtaining the ultimate prize, which seemed not to be getting any closer. 

As all of these thoughts and feelings hit him as he stood outside of a makeshift shower in only a towel, the fake expression he had been holding dropped. Though he did not open the curtain, his eyes slid in its direction so he could see if Aurel's shadow would make any reaction to what he said next.

[color=crimson]"Forgive my bluntness, Aurel, but as you don't seem to be the adventurous type, I assume those scars were made in a...non-consensual manner?"[/color] He watched the figure of Aurel behind the curtain closely, waiting to see if his words struck the nerve he was aiming for.