Zenyatta looks. He looks at Junkrat's long, rangy body; the bruises blooming here and there like green-purple flowers; the scars, old and new; his hips, lean and coltish, and then between them... the surprise lands amongst his thoughts like a stone into a pond, rippling realisations through him one after the other. Those particular scars. Whatever parts it wants. Is that what he meant?
The water smoothes over again, sleek and seamless.
"You are right," he admits quietly. "It does seem unfair. My opinion of you, however- for what little an omnic opinion may be worth to you- is unchanged, Jamie."
Zenyatta takes a chance. He reaches out and gently, fingers splayed, he touches his chin and strokes his thumb across his cheek once more. "Will you still have me?"
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Zenyatta looks. He looks at Junkrat's long, rangy body; the bruises blooming here and there like green-purple flowers; the scars, old and new; his hips, lean and coltish, and then between them... the surprise lands amongst his thoughts like a stone into a pond, rippling realisations through him one after the other. Those particular scars. Whatever parts it wants. Is that what he meant?
The water smoothes over again, sleek and seamless.
"You are right," he admits quietly. "It does seem unfair. My opinion of you, however- for what little an omnic opinion may be worth to you- is unchanged, Jamie."
Zenyatta takes a chance. He reaches out and gently, fingers splayed, he touches his chin and strokes his thumb across his cheek once more. "Will you still have me?"