[ He's so grateful to Andyr for pointing that out. Really. In fact, he's so grateful that the blush sort of heats its way into his ears, and he slouches forward a little in an effort to hide it, doubting it'll do much good considering their light source is coming from his own wrist. Still, he tries, and it's almost fine until Andyr reaches over to touch his chest. Steve's hardly a stranger to that either, though it's usually less purposeful rubbing, and his mind sort of shuts down for a second or two before his own hand is grabbing at Andyr's wrist.

It's definitely permanent, and it's definitely not going anywhere. After all those years of never having a scar or scratch on him, it's kind of strange. Ink that won't come off. A reminder of how careless he'd been, how useless. ]

It was back on an outpost a few months ago. [ The one with all those slave traders. ] A lot of the crew ended up there by accident, and I tried to help 'em. Didn't want anyone getting sold off or worse. [ He gives a one-shouldered shrug, letting his hand slip from Andyr's and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. ] Guess the serum can't stop everything. [ If Andyr doesn't know about that, he's sure he'll ask. Still, now isn't really the time to be talking about something so heavy. He just wants to enjoy the water and the company and maybe find some comfortable place to sleep in a few hours. ]