Arthur moved easily beneath Malachi's hand, baring more of his neck for his inspection.  He hoped it was up to whatever standard Malachi had for it.  He had not been cut deep enough to cause any serious harm, but the skin covering his throat was thin and delicate.

This injury would certainly leave a scar.

If the shirt Arthur was currently wearing was any indication, he had no intention to hide it, now or later.

"Not with you," he whispered.

He dropped the devil mask, lifting his hand to the cut on Malachi's head.  With the pad of his finger he touched it, gentler than he's ever touched Malachi before.

"But for you?  For you, I would end it all."