He is, very pointedly, not looking in Bruce's direction.

Somehow he can feel that gaze anyway, even doing his best to focus on the dull ache in his thighs and shoulders, the uncomfortable pull of deeper, thicker scars.

He could easily be flushing from exertion. The gambeson has been just a little too tight on him for a while now, blood has dried in inconvenient places, the leather has gone too stiff in others -

"I can manage that." His tone is mostly neutral, at least. Mostly.

He has to crouch down out of sight to wrangle his legs out, so that also helps.