Re: Log: no pizza, so sad: Gwen S & Harry O
[The trouble she had helping him into the shirt was entirely emotional. It was more proof that she'd failed somehow, and that she had no idea how to solve this effectively. None of the serum results in the rats that lived in the lab had been this extensive, and she wondered if she should scrap all her work and start over. But he drank down the remaining liquid in the vial, and it was only the clatter of glass and crash on the floor that made her concerned.
The liquid was making her own stomach complain, but there was no associated pain. He fell against the bed, and his heartbeat slowed, and she couldn't lie beside him without checking his vitals in a fit of panic.
Did I hurt anyone?
She didn't know. She had no answer. She didn't count herself as a possible victim, and so she didn't consider listing herself as an option. It was the unknown data around the case of Mary Jane's death that led her to consider answering with uncertainty, but then she shook her head.] Everyone's okay, Harry. [It wasn't a direct lie; there was a new Mary Jane upstairs, and getting him worked up right after getting him to drink the medicine in the vial seemed entirely counterproductive.
And maybe she was just a little bit scared to tell him the truth; that was always the case with Harry Osborn and truths.
His fingers touched the bruises at her throat, and slid to where they peeked out from beneath the collar of her shirt.] It's okay. I'm fine. We can sleep a little bit, okay?
[She covered his hand with hers, and her fingers fluttered; stress was acutely physically evident in her features, in her vitals, but she knew he wouldn't recognize those indicators.]