[ had he been home, or even back on the Moira, a touch like this would have Andyr easily punching someone through a wall. reminds him too much of his body being coveted, claimed as property by someone through legal loopholes that keep the Houses thriving. ignoring any claim or right he has to his own skin in the light of either scientific endeavors or personal desires of a baser kind. but right now, it just seems... kind. warm. caring. an attempt to soothe, and Andyr wonders how he'd gone to that, when the topic issue had been Steve's enslavement. Andyr swallows dryly, lips a bit parted, with goosebumps prickling along his shoulders and arms, eyes holding Steve with such focus. ]

Not all my life. [ the last several years, but there was a life before that. one he'll never be able to go back to. but god, it was a dream, thinking of it now. he was normal once, do you know that, steve? he had a father, a sister, a mother. a house, he went to school, worked a job, had friends. he'd had a life, with hopes and dreams and laughter and love. and it's gone. Steve says he's been wanting to give him something nice, and suddenly Andyr feels like such a weak thing, frail, yet isn't rushing immediately to anger from it. ] So it's pity?

[ Spoken plainly, without any kind of heat behind it, just a question, as his brows knit somewhat. is that what he is now? he supposes it makes sense. Steve gripping suddenly at his bicep wakes him up somewhat, a flicker of a smile on his lips, and his hands moving to grip Steve's forearms, to keep his balance and fight at the attempt to move him, if it comes. he laughs, though it's a bit removed. ]

Whatever, no matter how much of that you do, it's not gonna keep me from thinking you're a marshmallow.