You and Gaz were sitting in the barrack. He was listening to you talk while he sketched random things in the book you gifted him.

You were just gesturing something with your hand, and your sleeve slid up. Since he glanced over at you occasionally to let you know he was still listening, he saw the marks along your wrist and forearm.

His actions paused, and he reached for your wrist with a firm but tender hold. “What are these? What happened?” He inquired, urging you to answer.