The crying hadn't stopped. The food had gotten less, but still enough to keep his stomach quiet. Graves felt like every bit of water Grindelwald had to offer him was coming right back out of his system every time he cried. Sometimes, Graves simply wept without any actual tears streaming down his ill-looking face.
Time passed by and the days got worse, longer and more of a torture than anything else. Graves cried more and more each time Grindelwald came to steal his face, or to torment him with his new appearance. As time went by, Percival Graves seemingly grew more and more disgusted with himself.
On most days, Grindelwald woul ignore it. His prisoner's crying had grown on him like the endless sound of crickets in the grass. He barely noticed anymore. But when he did, it was serious.
One day, Percival Graves threw a tantrum so loud Grindewald had almost choked on his wine at the dinner table. He'd travelled down to his cell, still carrying the glass - since he never leaves a glass of wine when it's not emptied - and asked his prisoner what the fuck was wrong with him, enough words to make Graves fall silent with the flick of a switch. Instead of harm himself in the process of trying to break through one of the cell walls, Graves sank down in the middle of the room, sobbing more than screaming this time.
Grindelwald had briefly observed it before he decided to step in. Perhaps, to Graves, the only reason he did so was because his prisoner - the body that he needs so much these days - was injured and bleeding.
Graves didn't look up nor move when he heard the cell door open. Grindelwald stepped inside and he stood opposite the prisoner. He kneeled down, wanting a better view of Graves' face when he decided to continue his observation.
He's so pretty when he cries.
The first time Graves looked back up at his captor ever since he'd appeared was when he could feel a large, warm coat slide over his shoulders. Grindelwald had decided to offer his coat to the man for now and left it on his shoulder. He took another sip from the glass of wine he picked up from the floor and watched Graves. He didn't speak yet and offered his prisoner the beverage instead. Graves didn't hesitate to snatch it from his grasp. It being Grindelwald, the drink might be poisoned. But then he wouldn't have drank from it himself only moments ago. And even if it were poisoned... At this moment, Graves doesn't even care anymore.
Another silence followed once the empty glass gave a small ring as Grindelwald set it back down on the floor after he'd taken it from Graves' shaking hands. They sat opposite each other, Graves still shivering and sobbing from time to time while his captor remained silent. Observing. Percival slowly pulled the coat a little tighter around his body, wanting to feel all of its warmth.
"I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice, Percival," Grindelwald then spoke. He finally reached out a hand to the other, letting it rest on Graves' shoulder for the moment. The prisoner didn't react. He didn't even move.
"I want the best for you, but you see... This is what I can offer as the best for you."
Grindelwald trailed his hand up to the side of Graves' neck. His skin felt cold, but Grindelwald could tell that he was warming up under the coat. The hand went higher, until he could cup his prisoner's face in his palm. It felt funny, having the start of a beard growing on the face he needs to do the job. Maybe he should consider shaving him...
Their eyes met, because Grindelwald wanted it and Graves tensed up again. He swallowed back a small noise, one of fear with a hint of protest. He didn't want this. He didn't want Grindelwald to touch him. He was greasy, filthy and cold. It only made Percival more aware of what condition he was in and it made him want to cry again.
Grindelwald tilted his head a slight bit to the side. He'd seen the change in Graves' eyes. They were watering. Tears were coming. Grindelwald tutted his lips.
"You're so pretty when you cry... However, there's no need to cry, Percival. Promise me you'll be good and I might offer you better."
The hand trailed from the side of Graves' face to his greasy, messy hair and Grindelwald only touched it briefly, long enough to get a reaction - a small, touch starved moan - from Percival Graves.
His voice was almost completely gone and Grindelwald had to listen closely, but he grinned as he heard Percival Graves speak.
Happy New Year! (2/2)
Time passed by and the days got worse, longer and more of a torture than anything else. Graves cried more and more each time Grindelwald came to steal his face, or to torment him with his new appearance. As time went by, Percival Graves seemingly grew more and more disgusted with himself.
On most days, Grindelwald woul ignore it. His prisoner's crying had grown on him like the endless sound of crickets in the grass. He barely noticed anymore. But when he did, it was serious.
One day, Percival Graves threw a tantrum so loud Grindewald had almost choked on his wine at the dinner table. He'd travelled down to his cell, still carrying the glass - since he never leaves a glass of wine when it's not emptied - and asked his prisoner what the fuck was wrong with him, enough words to make Graves fall silent with the flick of a switch. Instead of harm himself in the process of trying to break through one of the cell walls, Graves sank down in the middle of the room, sobbing more than screaming this time.
Grindelwald had briefly observed it before he decided to step in. Perhaps, to Graves, the only reason he did so was because his prisoner - the body that he needs so much these days - was injured and bleeding.
Graves didn't look up nor move when he heard the cell door open. Grindelwald stepped inside and he stood opposite the prisoner. He kneeled down, wanting a better view of Graves' face when he decided to continue his observation.
He's so pretty when he cries.
The first time Graves looked back up at his captor ever since he'd appeared was when he could feel a large, warm coat slide over his shoulders. Grindelwald had decided to offer his coat to the man for now and left it on his shoulder. He took another sip from the glass of wine he picked up from the floor and watched Graves. He didn't speak yet and offered his prisoner the beverage instead. Graves didn't hesitate to snatch it from his grasp. It being Grindelwald, the drink might be poisoned. But then he wouldn't have drank from it himself only moments ago. And even if it were poisoned... At this moment, Graves doesn't even care anymore.
Another silence followed once the empty glass gave a small ring as Grindelwald set it back down on the floor after he'd taken it from Graves' shaking hands. They sat opposite each other, Graves still shivering and sobbing from time to time while his captor remained silent. Observing. Percival slowly pulled the coat a little tighter around his body, wanting to feel all of its warmth.
"I wouldn't do this if I had any other choice, Percival," Grindelwald then spoke. He finally reached out a hand to the other, letting it rest on Graves' shoulder for the moment. The prisoner didn't react. He didn't even move.
"I want the best for you, but you see... This is what I can offer as the best for you."
Grindelwald trailed his hand up to the side of Graves' neck. His skin felt cold, but Grindelwald could tell that he was warming up under the coat. The hand went higher, until he could cup his prisoner's face in his palm. It felt funny, having the start of a beard growing on the face he needs to do the job. Maybe he should consider shaving him...
Their eyes met, because Grindelwald wanted it and Graves tensed up again. He swallowed back a small noise, one of fear with a hint of protest. He didn't want this. He didn't want Grindelwald to touch him. He was greasy, filthy and cold. It only made Percival more aware of what condition he was in and it made him want to cry again.
Grindelwald tilted his head a slight bit to the side. He'd seen the change in Graves' eyes. They were watering. Tears were coming. Grindelwald tutted his lips.
"You're so pretty when you cry... However, there's no need to cry, Percival. Promise me you'll be good and I might offer you better."
The hand trailed from the side of Graves' face to his greasy, messy hair and Grindelwald only touched it briefly, long enough to get a reaction - a small, touch starved moan - from Percival Graves.
His voice was almost completely gone and Grindelwald had to listen closely, but he grinned as he heard Percival Graves speak.
-------------------------------
Eep, I hope this'll do!
"I'll be good, Mr. Gellert... I'll be good."