||[Sep. 30th, 2003|12:06 pm]
it's like riding a biker
"Hey! Did you really hurt yourself? Lemme take a look. C'mon."|
Faith grabbed him by the elbow and ignored the sudden tingle of skin-on-skin contact. Manuvering him into a chair, she knelt in front of him and carefully pried the hand Wesley had clamped over his forehead away from the injury. She took one look and let out a long, low whistle. A large purple knot was already raising on his right temple. "Let's get something on that, okay?"
She rummaged for a dishtowel and some ice, and, makeshift ice pack in hand, turned back to Wesley, who wouldn't look at her. "Take this. Sit there. I'll make dinner. You keep talking."