Raidou froze.

A crowded moment of realization did the icy work of a good night's sleep and several pints of black coffee.

Very carefully, he turned his head left, enough to hide his scar in shadows, and loosened his grip. One hand fell away from her wrist, the other dropped from her face. He let them hang by his sides, and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Sorry," he said, very quietly. The memory of her touch drew ghost lines over his face. "I didn't mean to..."

He winced at the way his words slurred clumsily, and pulled back. He felt sober, but alcohol made his thoughts slide through blurred lines and end up in unhappy places. He lifted one hand carefully and dropped the bit of bloody cloth next to her.

"Sorry," he muttered again, and began to stagger to his feet. "I'll be... over there."