He laughed again, the sound silver and chiming, threading through their conversation. He smiled down at the work of his hands, thumb drawing down the line of Saralegui's shin.

"So you can tell me what you wouldn't do, but not what you would?" He lifted his brows over at Saralegui over the slim slope of his shoulder.

His hands moved gingerly around faint bruises left by a strong grip, shadowed in the vague shape of of a far wider hand than his own. He leaned, hands lightly guiding, pressed his lips near the shape of its palm.