[ He's careful about it. Blood still oozes from the jagged line. It's a loose cradle, fabric of his shirt making a convenient barrier for direct touch as he wraps it around her hand with his good arm. ]
I'm not mad at you. [ The last thing he fucking wants to do is just touch her like that's gonna be some magical goddamn shortcut. Jesus, he's an asshole. ] I'm fine. You're not the first person to stab me.
[ Comes out a little too stiff to really land the joke. He looks up at her; smiles, almost, even if the expression is kind of crooked and stilted. ]
no subject
I'm not mad at you. [ The last thing he fucking wants to do is just touch her like that's gonna be some magical goddamn shortcut. Jesus, he's an asshole. ] I'm fine. You're not the first person to stab me.
[ Comes out a little too stiff to really land the joke. He looks up at her; smiles, almost, even if the expression is kind of crooked and stilted. ]