Atticus’ gaze was drawn up to the seated who as he chuckled, a wary hardness in blue eye for a moment before her realised he wasn’t being laughed at, not maliciously. “I’m not in a state to be seen by clients, either, Mister Tabris. I do not desire to tarnish the House.”  And if he was alone he could lose himself for a little while, sink into the soft comfort of what ever narcotic he could get his hands on.<br/><br/>He could pretend he wasn’t terrified.<br/><br/>He couldn’t stop himself glancing towards the doorway he had stumbled through. He couldn’t quite see Master Ryan’s office door from here, but he was close enough he should be able to hear if anyone came out. He didn’t like it, but it would do, for now. No one could creep across the hall, the cool flags of marble giving hint of any who trod it. Even Fiona’s silk slippers or Anel’s bare feet had a sound.<br/><br/>His attention swivelled back to Lessard as he spoke. Atticus managed to drag one corner of his mouth up in a lop-sided smile, and his eye followed the movement of the man’s hand as it pushed back some of his smooth hair. The offer was enticing. To be able to say what was inside him, to lean a little on someone who had such strength of will, to seek advice from another who had a better chance at understanding.<br/><br/>He spoke like each word was a great weight, a struggle to get up his throat and over his tongue. “I saw... a man in M-master Ryan’s room. He. I’ve seen him. In the place I... in the bro. Brothel I worked at last. I never... If. If Master Ryan is getting old clients from there... the one who cuuhh... urh...” The world crushed against his skull and there was a gleaming flash of metal in his damaged eye’s black vision. He leant forwards, clutching his head in both hands, feeling like he would vomit.<br/><br/>When he could slow himself, he forced his ragged gasps to slow and deepen. His body shook, but the flashes of metal, the crushing weight eased back. He swallowed, tasting bile on the back of his throat, but not, thankfully, in his mouth. He hadn’t thrown up. Excellent. Well done, Louis. “Cut.” He said, his voice hard. “My f-face. He’ll come here. He doesn’t know wh- Master Ryan doesn’t know who. He’ll come and... ah... ahh... I don’t want to be blind!”<br/>