I know where every single one of those scars you don't recognize came from, in order of when you got them. I know exactly what to do to you to make you squirm. I know what you look like when you cry. I know what you look like when you come. I know what you look like when you're desperate. I know which parts of my body you stared at first, but which parts you'll end up liking most and paying attention to most. I know what you look like when you're loading your gun in the middle of a fight. And I know what you look like when you're sewing your brothers back up again afterwards. [Shrugs, if only to cover up his embarrassment at having gotten carried away]