[The second the combat is over, he gives her a wide berth, limbs shaking as he sinks to the ground a couple yards away and tries to catch his breath. Everything hurts, the wound on his face already blossoming red under the skin, the adrenaline of the fight wearing down and keeping him from breaking the distance any longer. But she fought urgently, and that much gave them at least a little normalcy without his damn phobia messing things up.
His mouth still tastes of blood, but he can tell his teeth are all still intact - a small blessing. He'll cough against the back of his arm, wiping his sweat-soaked bangs off his face.]
...Any better? Or are we going to end up as two more bodies tomorrow just because we're angry?
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His mouth still tastes of blood, but he can tell his teeth are all still intact - a small blessing. He'll cough against the back of his arm, wiping his sweat-soaked bangs off his face.]
...Any better? Or are we going to end up as two more bodies tomorrow just because we're angry?