Re: Marvel: Cris & Sam
If she'd seen that muscle twitch in his jaw, she might have thought about her fucking words or something. But there was the sun, and her head pounding, and every few steps came with a lag, a hitch. This crash was hard, and she was having trouble getting fucking through it, and so she couldn't try to reason what the best fucking thing to say was.
She barely hesitated, yeah? She wasn't together enough for it, wasn't present enough for it, for thinking shit through. The high was gone, yeah, but the shit was still in her system, fucking with her. Twitch, and she pressed her fingers to the back of her head, behind her ear where the scar from that bullet was. Maybe she whimpered; maybe she imagined it.
"You asked what I wanted. It doesn't matter. I don't care, but you said not to say that. Hospital's ok," she finished. Repetition, yeah, ok, but it really was ok. It didn't matter. "They can look at your head," she added, unthinking as she tried to keep her feet steady, forward, and without the sway of someone who was seriously fucked. She could at least try to look fucking normal beside him, yeah?