“Christ. You—Get your damn clothes off.” He clambered off the bed to make that possible. Luke sat up to remove his boots. Rufus went to pull off his nightshirt, and stopped. “Shit.” “What is it?” “I have scars,” Rufus said reluctantly. “Quite a few. Is that bad?” Luke’s head came up sharply, and the look on his face could have broken a man’s heart, so shocked and raw and yearning. “I,” he said, and then started again. “Thank you. Thank you for thinking of that, but there’s no need to worry.”
"Could have broken a man's heart, so shocked and raw and yearning" -- [muffled screaming and crying]
