It's likely. You look like a walking target. [gestures to him without reserve, that electric shock of range hair and pale skin smattered with freckles. and who could not want to punch that mug? already, thinking about that smirk and that attitude makes him want to sink knuckles into the open arteries of nose]

[his back, huh... he's experienced it twice now, helped another boy through his and faced his own; is the third time the charm? he's a little more practiced at it now, knows what to expect, and if he's been assigned to this duty -- at least for now until he gains his ledger and a "real" occupation -- then he's going to do it his way]

That's what hurts? Turn over, I'll take a look at it. [with all the grace and sympathy of a war doctor; those natural demands are entirely made of deception. he knows what's there, all he needs is a little leeway to get him on his stomach before ropes can snap tight around his wrists and pin them to the headboard]

[what good is it going to be if he does something stupid and accidentally (or intentionally) hurts himself]

...they're coming. How's your pain tolerance?