Again Michael goes quiet while his blood shivers icy-hot through his veins. Wolfgang keeps repeating the same thing no matter what he says. It makes it tempting to try and say something even more outrageous, to admit darker and darker thoughts until they inevitably run and end the suspense, but that’s a foolish thought. It’s a hateful thought. He’s still worried about being their shadow, worried about ruining them, but if they say they want him (want him) like that one more time, sounding so sad and lonely, he might cry.
“What about the rest? Do you want that too? Do you think like that?”