Once the bath was filled and steaming, Paul returned with his shirt sleeves rolled up. He found Gabriel leaning against a wall, his hands rubbing at his eyes. It was one thing to read things on a dry and concise report, it was another thing entirely to connect the words to reality. Abuse and neglect were too broad umbrella terma, they shrouded the horrors, the insidious nature of what they described.<br/><br/>Paul placed a palm at the nape of Gabriel's neck. His palm was hot and wet from the bath water but his grip was as firm as it ever was. With a solidity that would not tolerate any resistance, Paul guided Gabriel to the bathroom.<br/><br/>The tub was palatial in size, the water murky with salts and every shiny fixture was fogged with heat and humidity. Paul then began to strip Gabriel, his hands methodical as he undid every button, slipped open every closure, and peeled away the layers till nothing was left. Gabriel was laid bare, and he was so achingly beautiful.<br/><br/>"Into the bath, my angel," Paul murmured.