Ezner smiled, taking the second gift she'd given him, looking down at it, an excited and curious grin growing. Then he nodded, obeying her command to not read it now. He set it down on the top of his desk. Then he fixed it so that it was perfectly centered and straight. He made sure that it was just right. 

[b]"Thank you, Elisabeth."[/b]

Then his stomach grumbled loudly, and he remembered why the two of them were here. He moved over toward his trunk at the foot of his bed, kneeling down before it. He looked up at her, [b]"Could you tell me a story from while we were apart? I would like to hear about what happened... outside... of the safehouse I was in."[/b]

He flipped the latch on the trunk, and creaked the chest open. He reached inside carefully grabbing the neatly folded shirt that was on top of the stack on the left, the perfectly straightened trousers on the right, and the small clothes and socks folded in the middle. All of his clothes were in the natural colors of the fibers, undyed, lower quality made but at least not filled with holes. He set the outfit on top of the bed, closing the trunk once more. It was clear there was no consideration for fashion or matching of the clothes. Ezner always worked from the top of the pile down to the bottom until it was laundry day. Then he'd repeat the process again. 

Once that was done, he gently grabbed her hand and took her through the door into the connecting room, which happened to be his bathroom. It was just as neat and pristine, though still unadorned, as the bedroom. The large, claw foot ceramic tub in the center of the room was filled with cold water. Ezner filled it every morning from the tap. It was always so cold, and he dreaded it, already feeling goosebumps forming on his skin.

Still, he needed to get cleaned.

Undeterred, while still listening to what Elisabeth might be saying, he reached over his shoulders, grabbing his shirt. He pulled it up and over his head. As the cloth rose over his back, it revealed the many, deep and faded scars from whips that crisscrossed his back. It also revealed a man no longer starved, his ribs slightly visible, but now more protected by muscle.

He set the shirt on the stool next to the tub, and preceded to bend down, removing his boots and socks. Then he untied his trousers, and slid them down, standing there in his small clothes before slipping those down too. Once he had all the clothes in a pile, he knelt down picking them up, and moving back toward the door he and Elisabeth had come in on, depositing them in the hamper next to the entryway. Then he walked back to the tub, taking a deep breath to steel himself, before slipping a foot into the cold water. 

A gasp escaped his lips as the water bit into his skin. He was quick to submerge himself, knowing it didn't get better, only worse. Once he was seated in the water, he grabbed the rough bristle brush and soap, and began to scour at his skin, going through his usual cleaning routine, all the while, listening to Elisabeth.