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Summary
"Oh." John sees something. Arthur can't figure out what it is. The tap is dripping again.
"What? Is there a mark?"
Slow breaths. A warm wet cloth on his chest. Awful and wonderful and the same time. Softly scrubbing back and fourth.
"No. I just don't want my blood on you."
Blood? Why is there blood? John's blood? Arthur is feeling dazed. Keep it together, Lester. It was just a dream.
"Why?"
"Why?" John laughs. "I don't find it kind on the eyes. Does this feel good?" He must have seen the relaxation in Arthur's face. The rag starts making circles along Arthur's sternum. It washes away the stickiness and the cold.
"Yes."
