"That's not what I meant." His arm tenses but only briefly; then he's relaxing, easing into the grip, his hand moving slowly up, fingertips against the cool skin of Neil's cheek and tracing up toward his temple. It's exploratory. It's mapping territory he already knows so well. His breath is tight in his throat, even if the tension is gone from the rest of him.

He runs his fingers along the line of the scar at Neil's temple, up toward his hairline. Somehow--and of course it would be this way, because how could it be any different--that element of imperfection only makes the rest of the face around it more beautiful.

"How did this happen?"