"No, it's okay, I'm just not quite used to it." No one would dare hold his hand, not at home. Besides, his palms are ugly, scraped and rough with scars upon scars from a belt and an unloving mother.

Besides, they can't dwell on that--there's a boulder to climb. He carefully begins his ascent, careful not to get too close to Clary, as he doesn't want to be rude.

"Touching, too, I like it, but, uhm... I wasn't really allowed, growing up. Does that make sense?"