Paul watched as Gabriel into the bath, one perfect foot in, than the other. He looked so vulnerable lowering himself in, his skin gone pink from the heat, the gentle ripples of the water blue green like sea water. He dipped under and Paul thought of Ophelia, of that tragic maiden drowning herself in the river, always shrouded by flowers with her hair tangling in the stalks. But Gabriel reemerged and he was the birth of Venus, resplendent and glorious and still so very vulnerable.<br/><br/>Paul continued to stare as he undid his buttons, and hardly even blinked as Gabriel asked his question.<br/><br/>"Pity is for the feeble, Gabriel," Paul said smoothly as he hands made their way down until his shirt was open. He then let it slip from his shoulders, careless as it landed on the damp floor, "it is for the weak and the simple minded."<br/><br/>Paul then removed his shoes and socks and undid his trousers in the same fashion. He let them fall and crumple in a heap that he stepped out of, now wearing nothing more than black briefs.<br/><br/>He then caught Gabriel's chin, pulling up so the boy had to stretch out of the bath. The water from his hair splashed on the floor, wetting Paul's feet.<br/><br/>"Do you presume that I would associate myself with the pitiful?" Paul asked, coolly.