Re: Hell's Kitchen, Marvel, Clem & Matt
[She wasn't expecting him to be standing, and she drew up real short and real quick. She watched him instead of reaching, looking for signs of anything wrong physical, anything she needed to worry about real immediate. The arm around his ribs, that wasn't nothing to concern; she would have been more fussed about that if he wasn't holding on, if it was numb or distended instead of sore. He seemed to be walking fine, head tilted a second and nothing that she read as some strange imbalance that indicated she should worry about his brain any. He talked real fine - well, for him, anyways - and she wasn't a woman prone to fussing when there wasn't cause. She'd look at his stitches once he wasn't moving, because no way was she chasing him anyplace just now.
She handled hurting, and he could too, long as he wasn't dying, and she didn't think the man was dying.
He stopped short of passing her, and she did the walking instead, slow and to the edge of the guest bed, where she sat herself down on the space he'd been inhabiting. It was closer than walking back out, and she watched as he listened.]
Ain't no one here but you and me. No one came. There was an attack clear across town, had nothing to do with you. Now, you come on back and sit down, and I'll tell you everything you missed, sleeping beauty. [Her voice was ashes, and closer she smelled like blood and stitching, along with all that smoke clinging to her hair and skin.] Or you could stand over there, if you reckon you like it better. [She smiled, and it carried easy in her hoarse voice.]