not important. been worse off than this.
( clipped sentences, eye darting to the digit that trails over skinโโhands twitch like theyโre fighting the instinct to shove away. still, his focus remains on that point of contact, free hand โฆ
prodding at the bruising around the center of his face. no noise made upon pain that lances through nerves, but it eventually sighs like itโs been inconvenienced. ) iโunno. stuff coming from my nose is mine. what youโre touching, โฆ
drain on his lonesome might be more productive. still, he stays. doesnโt flinch away from her hands nor her acknowledgement.
โlots to do,โ voice pitched low, quiet, โyou know how it goes.โ
itโs an alien feeling, to stand here and have someone tend to himโโto scrub the crimson from his skin rather than avoid the mess altogether. though, with how much of it there is, he supposes watching the blood circle the shower โฆ
rosen lips release a low hum, just a sound to fill the pointed silence.
at its permission, slender digits raise the greyed fabric to scrub at the bloodied skin before her. firm, but not tugging โโ tackling the reddened mess of his face first. gliding across the broad expanse +
donโtโฆ you donโt gotta worry about it. ( it watches mattโs face come into view with lips twisted into a frown, ) gonna get yourself caught, takinโ that thing off like this.
โs not mine. ( a beat, ) well. most of it. took a few hits.
( one of which was to the face, cartilage of nose displaced; culprit of stream of blood flowing from nose to pavement. matt can probably hear the damage. )