Re: quicklog: Cerise S/Cris M
[He's not expecting that.—He's quick enough and a good enough fighter, he's only down for halfa second, in spitea the lossa air from his lungs, but he's up anyway and his gun is out. His tongue is flat on his bottom lip as he tries to catch his breath, eyes warier now, drawn on Cerise like a bead.—The pistol is reflex and he tucks it quick into the backa his pants, 'cause he don't really wanna give her anymore reason to drop him.] Sorry. [He holds empty hands up.] I'll stay over here.