[ The only reason she breaks physical contact is to rip off her costume. Throwing the whole mess into a heap and stomping on it a few times. Beneath the costume, she actually looks like a military woman for once. Her clothes fit, simple and utilitarian, and the sleeveless top actually shows how muscular she really is, something usually hidden by her ill-fitting trash wear.
She stands there slouched over for a moment, breathing hard, shoulders contracting and expanding up and down before she looks over her shoulder at him. Her brows are pinched and her mouth is a hard line.
She shouldn't. She shouldn't take it out on him. What kind of way was that to treat a friend, an ally, a broodmate. She tenses her jaw. He's alight with it too now, and she can't quite decide whether its her fault, like a fucking infection, or if he was just handling it better until she came and lit the paper. She wants to say something, maybe somehow give him fucking fair warning like he doesn't have the sense to understand her by now--
no subject
She stands there slouched over for a moment, breathing hard, shoulders contracting and expanding up and down before she looks over her shoulder at him. Her brows are pinched and her mouth is a hard line.
She shouldn't. She shouldn't take it out on him. What kind of way was that to treat a friend, an ally, a broodmate. She tenses her jaw. He's alight with it too now, and she can't quite decide whether its her fault, like a fucking infection, or if he was just handling it better until she came and lit the paper. She wants to say something, maybe somehow give him fucking fair warning like he doesn't have the sense to understand her by now--
But she can't just say nothing. ]
Whoever starts bleeding first loses.