[ "Good enough." Figures. He snorts out a mirthless laugh as he combs his fingers through his hair again, flattening and straightening as he needs to. Another quick wipe of his mouth, and again it comes away clean. That's a bit of a relief, at least. He imagines his lips are still slightly swollen from their— from—
Before.
—but there's little he can do about that now.
When she gestures, he frowns, glances down himself. ]
... Holy hell.
[ He brushes his fingers across the angry red lines marring his skin, and only when he notices them do they finally start smarting. No breaks, but damn.
He swallows thickly, can only manage a far too quick nod of agreement, and quickly sets to buttoning up his shirt. Every shift of movement brings the fabric of his shirt across those scrapes, act as a reminder of— that, and he feels heat rise up his neck. As he's knotting his tie, he gives Emma another quick inspection. ]
Your, uh. [ He clears his throat, gaze quickly darting to the wall. ] Your lipstick.
no subject
Before.
—but there's little he can do about that now.
When she gestures, he frowns, glances down himself. ]
... Holy hell.
[ He brushes his fingers across the angry red lines marring his skin, and only when he notices them do they finally start smarting. No breaks, but damn.
He swallows thickly, can only manage a far too quick nod of agreement, and quickly sets to buttoning up his shirt. Every shift of movement brings the fabric of his shirt across those scrapes, act as a reminder of— that, and he feels heat rise up his neck. As he's knotting his tie, he gives Emma another quick inspection. ]
Your, uh. [ He clears his throat, gaze quickly darting to the wall. ] Your lipstick.