[ it could obviously be much worse, which is largely why emma isn't too put out over it. her finger still stings and gives the occasional unpleasant throb, but the pressure she's putting on it with the rag helps.

she pulls back the cloth to take a look at her finger, and it's determined to keep oozing blood down her palm — which she's quick to wipe away. ]

Not nearly so bad you need worry yourself over it.

[ it hurts, certainly, but emma is far from the kind to be dramatic over such a small wound (rather, she'd even downplay it, if it was bad), and she's even less so prone to squeamishness over her own blood. most of her ire is gone with the look of apology on his face, but she still fixes him with a most displeased look. ]

Sneakin' up on me's not quite a bright idea when I'm cooking.

[ because she doesn't find it nearly as amusing when he makes her leap outta her skin from time to time, and when there's clearly more opportune times to do it, she's absolutely going to scold him.

wrapping her finger back up in the bloody cloth, she reaches over to pick up the now-dirty knife, wiping it clean on the rag just the same. she means to get back to dinner in a moment, when her finger decides to stop bleeding, but for now, she's left to wait on it. she's actually had to get out of the habit of offering faraday food, because when he makes himself known while she's cooking, it's near instinct to try to feed company — but that, obviously, is not something faraday's capable of now. ]

I could've cut my finger clean off, you know.

[ well, not really, but she still has to rib him a bit for it. ]