"I..." he doesn't know how to answer. He hugs his arms to himself, feeling the motion tugging on some of those other, smaller, wounds hidden beneath the shirt. He doesn't hate that sting of pain, even now. Even when he knows he should.

"I'm sorry."

Not just for upsetting her now, but for knowing he wants to do it again. Against all better judgement. Unless she orders him not to. But he can't and won't ask her to do that.