[Somehow, that is both the answer Carlisle wanted and one that's completely unexpected. A part of him had hoped that Glacius had somehow chosen to keep it: its presence had been a gateway of sorts for Carlisle, allowing him to grow comfortable with physical contact between the two of them, especially as it healed and the touches became more of an intimate expression. Even on the night they expressed how they felt for one another, it had helped him ease into things at his own pace. It was something familiar, comforting, and Glacius always did his best to make him feel that way.

What Carlisle hadn't expected was that the icy giant would keep it not just for his sake, but for his own, as well. For as unsure as he was about bearing the scar for all to see, Glacius recognized it as a symbolic point for them both, as not just an experience they shared, but of what they, as individuals, had suffered through, yet were not defined by.]

Oh.

[One word, but Carlisle's face stays red, his mouth stretching into a wide frown for only a moment before the ends of it curl slightly in an unsure smile. His eyes do the most talking: he blinks away obvious bleariness before pushing his fingers under his glasses to paw at one of them.]

Somehow, I'd thought you'd rid yourself of it the moment you could, but you are as thoughtful as always. I should have expected this, shouldn't I?

[His fingers twitch, and he reaches toward said scar, his smile more evident -- he's touched, and unsure of how to express it, so he goes for what's familiar.]