He releases her hand to turn to hit the call button—and another image flashes across his vision. He hadn't caught the source the first time, but it seems to be reflecting off the bracket that holds her in traction. He flinches, a slight turn to his head, trying to keep the light from winking off of the bracket into his eyes. This time it's her—her who wins grappling match, her who manages to throw him through the window; it's him who falls ninety-nine stories to the ground.
His brow narrows slightly, and he turns back toward her. "Wrath," he says. "Look up at the ceiling for a minute."
Day 152 | Morning | Action
He releases her hand to turn to hit the call button—and another image flashes across his vision. He hadn't caught the source the first time, but it seems to be reflecting off the bracket that holds her in traction. He flinches, a slight turn to his head, trying to keep the light from winking off of the bracket into his eyes. This time it's her—her who wins grappling match, her who manages to throw him through the window; it's him who falls ninety-nine stories to the ground.
His brow narrows slightly, and he turns back toward her. "Wrath," he says. "Look up at the ceiling for a minute."