Lex hummed in acknowledgement; he went by a nickname, too. Or at least, a bastardized version of his actual name. It was short for Alexander, but his mother had been so convinced that she was having a girl that she had apparently started referring to her unborn baby as Lexi, short for Alexis, and refused to ruin the gender surprise. There was a time when he wondered how disappointed she must have been that he wasn’t the daughter she’d wanted, and he was bitter about it for a while, but he’d long since moved past that. She’d always provided for him and been his rock when he needed one, and if she wanted to call him Lex to remind herself of the one time she almost got what she wanted, he would let her. And besides, after a while, he’d kind of grown fond of it.<br/><br/>He waited for a few seconds for her to continue before pressing on. “So is there some elaborate story about how you got it?” he asked. “Drink too much blue paint as a kid? Or do you wear head-to-toe denim and I just can’t see it?” Definitely not the second one; Marcus would have<span style="font-style: italic">definitely</span>mentioned it, but he had to keep talking lest he focus on the sweltering heat. He reached forward and hoped Blue kept in mind what he said about not kicking him in the face. “Hold up.”<br/><br/>Pulling a shirt over your head while you’re doubled over in a ventilation shaft is a momentous feat and he should have been awarded a medal for having done it. He wore a t-shirt underneath, and while it still didn’t feel<span style="font-style: italic">good</span>, it felt so much better now that his skin could breathe. He fumbled with his discarded shirt for a moment until he managed to flip it around and tie the sleeves around his waist. When he was settled, he tapped the bottom of Blue’s shoe to signal that she could continue.