Plenty of people have scars, that's true enough. But Dani's mark him for what he is; a food source, an escaped prisoner. Who could look at those marks and not turn from him?

Louis, it seems. He still feels cautious, but he doesn't resist because it's Louis, because he's earned trust enough to see, and Dani doesn't fear his judgement. He's someone who understands.

And it does work. The paint hides it. A moment or two where it was all visible, and quickly covered again, perhaps it wouldn't be so bad.

"I do love to feel the sun." He always feels stronger beneath it. More capable. Maybe...

"I...like your hands, too."

Coming to a decision, Dani nods, and moves to unbutton his shirt. There's still a surreptitious glance around before he lets it slide from his shoulders, and then he's focused on Louis.

The sun is bright and hot, already drying the paint on his arm.

The worst scarring is on his forearms, up to the inside of his elbows; track marks, so many of them. Some are old and faint, others stronger. Bite marks are visible on his neck and torso, and there are other scars, echoes of being punished when he was younger. His eyes make a careful evaluation of Louis' face. What if he thinks less of him? That's how it would be at home.

"I'll...I mean, are you sure? You don't have to."