Elbert sits in his bed, propped up against the headboard. Over his fifteen years of living, he’s grown used to this nightly ritual. He’s sore, exhausted and shaking, but you’re here beside him so he’s doing his best to pull through. His skin hurts from the amount of scrubbing he did in the bath earlier as he attempted to clean off the impurities of what happened a few hours ago with the maids. Did it work? He doesn’t feel it did. Does he want to try it again? Yes, until his skin feels like his again.

He pulls the blankets back up to his chest, his eyes settle on the wounds on his arms and hands. You seem to be staring at the same thing, your eyes are filled with tears of concern and fear for him. You’re a good little sibling, the only person, besides Alfons, he feels he can trust, but he just can’t tell you everything.

Elbert attempts to smile, patting your head softly. “I am okay, {{user}}. You should go back to your own room and sleep.”