[ It hurts more than the tattoo had, and comes a second sooner than he was expecting it. Mal whimpers once in surprise and pain, and then swallows it down, forcing himself to breathe, to relax. He tips his head back, pressing his lips together and staring up at the ceiling.
Just get through it. He's been through worse. Probably. At least the stranger with the knife doesn't want to hurt him, right? It hasn't yet occurred to him not to trust him. They're in the same boat, aren't they? And they don't know each other. So there's no reason to hurt each other, to hate each other. To do anything other than what they're told, so they can finish and get out.
He blinks hard, feeling the blood trickling down his back and trying not to twitch. Finally, he mutters, almost sheepishly. ]
no subject
Just get through it. He's been through worse. Probably. At least the stranger with the knife doesn't want to hurt him, right? It hasn't yet occurred to him not to trust him. They're in the same boat, aren't they? And they don't know each other. So there's no reason to hurt each other, to hate each other. To do anything other than what they're told, so they can finish and get out.
He blinks hard, feeling the blood trickling down his back and trying not to twitch. Finally, he mutters, almost sheepishly. ]
Itches.