[ She assumed the blow he took would dampen his ardour, but if he's game to hook up again, she is too. She's liquor-parched and touch-starved, the slight stroke down her thigh shaking up dormant endorphins. Jess takes a measured breath, watching him tidily fold up some makeshift gauze. ]
I don't sew. [ It's fine, she can pass it off as the distressed look. Though she'll have to wash the blood out. Grunge only goes so far. She limps over to one of the chairs against the wall and drags it back toward the smouldering remains of the fire, where she sets herself on the seat's edge. As she does, she tells him, ] So if you need stitches, that's your warning. [ They'll be bad. ]
no subject
I don't sew. [ It's fine, she can pass it off as the distressed look. Though she'll have to wash the blood out. Grunge only goes so far. She limps over to one of the chairs against the wall and drags it back toward the smouldering remains of the fire, where she sets herself on the seat's edge. As she does, she tells him, ] So if you need stitches, that's your warning. [ They'll be bad. ]