[ really? there was no way he sounded like that, and he refused to dignify it with more than an irritable grunt. ]
Tch. You're the one always complaining about me getting blood on the sheets.
[ of his bed.
he straightened himself up, moving just enough to be able to shrug out of the shirt, tossing it in a rumpled pile somewhere off to the right. whatever, he could deal with it later. the other wrappings still looked to be clean enough, at least. ]
no subject
Tch. You're the one always complaining about me getting blood on the sheets.
[ of his bed.
he straightened himself up, moving just enough to be able to shrug out of the shirt, tossing it in a rumpled pile somewhere off to the right. whatever, he could deal with it later. the other wrappings still looked to be clean enough, at least. ]