John's hand is warm, in more ways than just physical, and he melts into that touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the thick thumb strays over his cheekbone.

"I know I can be... difficult." And there's a wry edge to it, at the obvious understatement of who he is as a person.

(And even now he's worried about how his next temporary warden is going to take it, worried about being assaulted or restricted for it because he doesn't know any other way to be than unapologetically himself, warts and all.)

"But I... I hope you know. How much I appreciate you. Even through the hardest times. I don't know who I would be without you."