Yeah. It did. It hurt like a bitch, actually, but Lynne wasn't going to tell him that. It seemed like he'd already decided, though, without so much as a word from her and she supposed that was his prerogative, so she simply stood there, sullenly surveying the damage to his bathroom and absently wondering what a disgusting mess her own room would be when she went back to it.
She looked up at him and felt the prickle of tears in her eyes she refused to let fall. No, she didn't want him to sleep on the couch, because she was still shaken and she wanted to forget it all even happened; she wanted to go back to lying in his arms and falling asleep like that. But, if he was worried about hurting her again, hell...Lynne was a good sport and fairly resilient, but she sure as hell didn't want to wake up to a knee in the kidney or a fist to the back of her neck or something. "I can just go, if you want..." she offered even though she wanted no part of leaving him. It just seemed a little pointless to her to hog his bed and make him sleep on the couch when he could sleep in his own bed and send her back to her room.