[ Something about the tone of their conversation feels strange like this, after everything that's come between them in the last several minutes, but Steve doesn't consider it beyond that. The slavers and what they had done are left as a memory, some of it now a little more permanent than he might have imagined it being, and what's important now is this moment, what lies between him and Andyr. What might never be again after this strange haze fades away and leaves them open and raw. He feels that shiver rather than sees it, hesitating at the curve of his jaw before pushing through and letting his hand slide down the slope of neck and shoulder. His skin is a bit chilled, cool from the water, but Steve feels the strength of him through that simple touch, gaze pulling away to look back at his face. ]

I never thought you meant it. [ Each and every time had almost been an accident, more Steve's fault than Andyr's, and that speaks so much to him. If he'd wanted to hurt him, if he'd wanted to do something more than that to anyone else, he would have seen it already. He would have heard it from the others, and he doubts that anyone who would take the time to draw him a fish or write him notes isn't deserving of some sort of kindness. ] And I guess... I don't know. From what you've said, people have been doing that to you all your life. Everyone should have something nice to remember.

[ He lifts his shoulder in a shrug and squeezes his fingers, letting their twined hands drop as he turns to look out at the waterfall. There's something else, too, but he's not sure what it is, opening his mouth to comment and falling short. Instead, the hand on his shoulder slips down to rush against his bicep. ] You want me to throw you in again to make up for it?

[ Poorly timed and a partial joke, though Steve's smile is genuine and sweet. ]