"A-a scar..." A permanent mark. On one hand, that's a thrilling concept in and of itself. On the other, she's not nearly worthy enough of leaving a mark on anyone or anything, and her grip on him tightens a little, expression uncertain.
She searches his face as if trying to decide which was the 'right' way to feel about; but before she can decide, he's asking her to actually use her talent. Her eyes go a bit wide before she's frantically nodding. "Y-yes, of course! Please let me help you!" To be useful, to be wanted. That's all she could ever ask for. She glances to his shoulder, already calculating what needs to be done. But--
"Ah... M-my clothes..." How was she supposed to get anywhere after this with her clothes ripped up like this?
Her clothes, indeed. They hadn't covered all that much to start with, and then he'd been so rough with them. Well, he's got a solution for that, at least; hands lightly squeezing her thighs, he gently untangles the two of them, setting her on her feet once more and holding on until he's sure she's steady.
"Well, since it's my fault they're in that condition, I suppose I should do something about it, shouldn't I?" He doesn't sound at all apologetic, or at all unhappy about the state of things, but then why should he, really? Once she's steady on her feet, he tucks himself away and does up his pants again, then slips his coat off his shoulders, hissing slightly as he has to shift his bleeding shoulder, and drapes it around hers with a slight flourish.
"There. It's a bit long, but it should definitely do the trick. Ready?" To go back to her place so she can patch him up, of course.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
She searches his face as if trying to decide which was the 'right' way to feel about; but before she can decide, he's asking her to actually use her talent. Her eyes go a bit wide before she's frantically nodding. "Y-yes, of course! Please let me help you!" To be useful, to be wanted. That's all she could ever ask for. She glances to his shoulder, already calculating what needs to be done. But--
"Ah... M-my clothes..." How was she supposed to get anywhere after this with her clothes ripped up like this?
no subject
"Well, since it's my fault they're in that condition, I suppose I should do something about it, shouldn't I?" He doesn't sound at all apologetic, or at all unhappy about the state of things, but then why should he, really? Once she's steady on her feet, he tucks himself away and does up his pants again, then slips his coat off his shoulders, hissing slightly as he has to shift his bleeding shoulder, and drapes it around hers with a slight flourish.
"There. It's a bit long, but it should definitely do the trick. Ready?" To go back to her place so she can patch him up, of course.