Demetri wishes this were his place so he could tug Fabrice to his bed. So he could press the other man down beneath him and undress him slowly. It's more shocking a thought than any mention of scars, his rooms a sanctuary only his siblings venture into.

"We all have scars. Some are just figurative." But his plans of conquest - if he could even call it that anymore as wrapped up as Demetri is in simply being there with him - are put on hold. He feels protective again, wanting tonwrap himself around the other man and never let anyone hurt him again. "Show me?"

It's asked as kindly as he'd asked Fabrice to tell him of it earlier. Yet he shakes his head and smiles, dismissing his own question. "You don't have to."