There is no bruise, because there is no blood. Look, Angel's physiology is a fucking joke and his skin is cool and clammy, and the thumb is hurt in some indefinite way that doesn't look like when a human thumb is hurt, quite.

He's almost pointedly not making eye contact with Eddie while his hand is held, though the expression on his face inches toward the ghost of a smile.

"You might be right. But pain fucking hurts and I'm not going to be able to fix it tonight, probably."