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Summary
While one of Hawkmoth's hands uses the scissors, the other, holding the ear to be cut, starts to gently run fingers through Chat's hair. And maybe the mutilation should have been the peak of Chat's fear, but that was nothing compared to the terror he feels at this.
He can't - move. Adrien can't move. He stays dead still and prays that Papillon will stop, will go back to cutting his ear off, but of course the perceptive man clocks on immediately, a curious, twisting grin spreading across his face.
"What's that, petit châton?" Hawkmoth asks quietly, dangerously. "You seem to like that. Now perhaps we're getting somewhere."