[ a distraction is absolutely what emma needs at this point. she needs to not think about the sting of the needle and the tugging at her skin, but it turns out that faraday's voice is...oddly soothing. some of the tension rolls out of her shoulders, though she's clearly not impressed by what he's saying.
the worst part is, she can't even banter with him, can't refute what he's saying and tell him he'd be more than hard-pressed to get her smoking and playing (cheating at) cards. a little white lie, while she may feel vaguely guilty about it, is hardly the most undesireable of traits she could have picked up from faraday.
after all, she'd told it to simulaneously avoid stitches and...well, to keep him from worrying over her. she's not one to openly accept concern, and she knew that if she'd let on to the nature of her cut, he'd be fussing and, of course, trying to shoo her off to the doctor.
like he had done.
she gives him the most exasperated of looks she can manage while the doctor is still seeing to her, but faraday has drawn her attention away long enough that she doesn't even notice when the sutures are done. ]
There now. That should do you up right.
[ emma looks down at her neatly stitched finger before the doctor wraps it gently but firmly, and she offers him a warm thanks for his time. he's more than content to send her on her way back home (after inviting her to dinner, which she politely refuses), and once they're outside of the small house again, she turns on faraday with a little huff. ]
Now that was all kinds of unnecessary.
[ she should be thanking him for keeping her mind off of the stitches, but she's still not quite so appreciative of needing them in the first place. ]
And, I'll have you know, you're hardly any kind of influence on me, Faraday – good or bad.
[ she turns away from him with a soft scoff, crossing her arms over her chest to pull her shawl tigheter around her shoulders with her neatly bandaged hand. ]
no subject
the worst part is, she can't even banter with him, can't refute what he's saying and tell him he'd be more than hard-pressed to get her smoking and playing (cheating at) cards. a little white lie, while she may feel vaguely guilty about it, is hardly the most undesireable of traits she could have picked up from faraday.
after all, she'd told it to simulaneously avoid stitches and...well, to keep him from worrying over her. she's not one to openly accept concern, and she knew that if she'd let on to the nature of her cut, he'd be fussing and, of course, trying to shoo her off to the doctor.
like he had done.
she gives him the most exasperated of looks she can manage while the doctor is still seeing to her, but faraday has drawn her attention away long enough that she doesn't even notice when the sutures are done. ]
There now. That should do you up right.
[ emma looks down at her neatly stitched finger before the doctor wraps it gently but firmly, and she offers him a warm thanks for his time. he's more than content to send her on her way back home (after inviting her to dinner, which she politely refuses), and once they're outside of the small house again, she turns on faraday with a little huff. ]
Now that was all kinds of unnecessary.
[ she should be thanking him for keeping her mind off of the stitches, but she's still not quite so appreciative of needing them in the first place. ]
And, I'll have you know, you're hardly any kind of influence on me, Faraday – good or bad.
[ she turns away from him with a soft scoff, crossing her arms over her chest to pull her shawl tigheter around her shoulders with her neatly bandaged hand. ]