"I'm dying here and you don't even notice, do you?"
"Stop being so melodramatic, it's nothing."
"I'm fucking DYING here, and to you that's NOTHING?"
Crawford shook his head, turning away from the redhead, returning to his computer. Dying. Right.
Schuldig sighed, pulling a hand through his hair. No, he really didn't notice. Fuck, did that guy ever feel anything? Or maybe feelings were just for simple mortals. Sometimes the German felt like carving himself up just like Farfarello. Farfie... When you can't talk to the sane ones - turn to the criminally insane.
With a last glance at his indifferent leader Schuldig left the room to go search for Farfarello.
He found him in his room, hanging upside down in a straightjacket, thinking of ways to hurt God. What else?
Farfarello didn't seem aware of the Schuldig's presence until the redhead walked up to him and struck him right across the face, causing his body to start swaying and a small trickle of blood to emerge from the edge of his mouth, running upwards across his cheek.
The Irishman started wriggling in his straightjacket, making Schuldig's usual malicious smirk even wider. It still wouldn't reach his eyes though, it never did.
Sensing what Farfarello wanted he picked up one of the sharp knives lying on a nearby table.
"This one?" He quirked an eyebrow, retrieving yet another knife. "Or this?"
The psychopath looked from Schuldig to the knives and back at Schuldig again, anger burning behind his single eye. He refused to say anything.
"Maybe both of them..." the redhead mused, absently putting one of the pointy daggers to his tongue, tentatively licking at it.
That supposedly innocent action seemed to enrage the Irishman further as he continued to fight his restrains.
"You know that it won't help," Schuldig commented on Farfarello's fruitless struggles, sounding almost sad. Shrugging it off he put the knives back down and walked over to stand just outside the Irishman's reach as he dangled from the roof. And now he needed a cigarette. Damn. Leaning in he planted a small kiss at the corner of the psychopath's mouth, right over the now dried blood, careful not to give Farfarello a chance to bite him as he did so.
Farfarello closed his eye and sent out some not so nice thoughts involving Schuldig and the knives he'd been violating earlier, resulting in a humorless laugh from the redhead.
"Maybe we should try that sometime," he answered dispassionately as he went towards the door. Those knives were definitely overrated.