The stubborn impulse towards No is likely written all over Ellis' face.

But it's held in check. His fingers curl in Thot's fur, the lightest inclination towards a belly scritch as Ellis looks directly back at Richard.

"Is it so hard to guess?"

Is not an answer. But Richard has, for some time now, had a knack of making Ellis feel as if he has been rendered transparent. It's not an entirely comfortable thing.

And there is an element of predictability in this. Richard had asked him for something that feels like—

Harm.