Theo looked away from the direct eye contact, biting into the cut in his lip and making it bleed, lapping at the sluggishly welling blood. "He won't, won't let me, won't, won't let me..." he murmured, his voice quiet with fear.
He rubbed his finger against the bleeding cut and then traced a shape on the wall, some old, dark, Bavarian magic that might as well have been tic-tac-toe.