even angered as she was, the punch she threw was little more than a wake-up call. sol wasn't the same woman she was when first arriving, months of malnourishment and dehydration having taken a toll on her once toned muscles. his head still flicked to the side and blood pooled from his nose.
[break][break]
must've just been the right angle, then.
[break][break]
with heat he turns back to her, hands lancing out to either side of her head to rest against the wall with a slapping thud.
[break][break]
"what's your problem? you were the one person that wasn't supposed to break, to give up, the one person who was meant to make it all the way. and now look at you. one set back and you're ready to bite off your own tongue and choke on your blood. how the hell can you stand yourself?"
[break][break]
how could he stand himself? whether or not he actually did the deed didn't matter - his inaction was just as responsible. his eyes mist, droplets forming at the corners, as his emotions surge.

[attr="class","notes"]@sole

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉