"Physically better," he shot back, offering her a glass before he sat down again. "I know you've spent years tucked away in hell, being tortured and stuff, but I don't think that technically makes you void of being able to feel anything on the inside when someone just pins you down and starts stabbing you for fun."
Tucking the bottle of vodka onto the side table, he leaned back and looked toward Ruby, a weary, but definitely concerned look following. "Do you wanna talk about it? The stuff that he said to you. We could talk about it, if you want."