Anyone may know a Touhou has impeccable skills at dodging; however, this skill works better from expecting that an enemy would attack them. Not a dear friend, as in this case.
His fist connects unequivocally with the left side of her cheek, smashing into both mandible and maxilla. Bones are not as sturdy as concrete; understandably it does more than dislocate her jaw, it smashes it up into her cheekbone, splintering structures meant to keep everything in place, breaking teeth and smashing tissue. Not given even a moment to react, she's slammed to the ground, hard, knocking her head to the stone floor. Blood spurts from her mouth in a strangled gasp. A labored reflex for coughing helps that she doesn't choke on that blood or the teeth he's knocked back into her throat. Although the area is already beginning to swell up with a thick tongue that tastes only warm liquid and iron, quickly diminishing her supply of fresh air.
There are no emotions for these initial moments-- she only feels pain. Then they start to flood in, overwhelming her mind in a quick panic-- croaking out his name one more time, pleading, before she can say nothing more. She quickly realizes that this is her fault, that he didn't mean to hurt her. It's her own fault for reaching out to him when she clearly should have asked first. The look in her eyes is one already of forgiveness and apology. She doesn't want to startle him. She doesn't want him to trigger any thing that might hurt him. I'm sorry--
She's sorry, she's sorry for frightening him-- and damn this frail body, can't she be stronger? Can't she push herself up to help him? He needs more help-- he needs to know that he's safe now! She came all this way for him, and now she can hardly even see straight.
She tries to push herself up, shuddering briefly, before she collapses on the ground. She won't be touching him again, not now. In fact, she won't be moving at all.
CW: blood
His fist connects unequivocally with the left side of her cheek, smashing into both mandible and maxilla. Bones are not as sturdy as concrete; understandably it does more than dislocate her jaw, it smashes it up into her cheekbone, splintering structures meant to keep everything in place, breaking teeth and smashing tissue. Not given even a moment to react, she's slammed to the ground, hard, knocking her head to the stone floor. Blood spurts from her mouth in a strangled gasp. A labored reflex for coughing helps that she doesn't choke on that blood or the teeth he's knocked back into her throat. Although the area is already beginning to swell up with a thick tongue that tastes only warm liquid and iron, quickly diminishing her supply of fresh air.
There are no emotions for these initial moments-- she only feels pain. Then they start to flood in, overwhelming her mind in a quick panic-- croaking out his name one more time, pleading, before she can say nothing more. She quickly realizes that this is her fault, that he didn't mean to hurt her. It's her own fault for reaching out to him when she clearly should have asked first. The look in her eyes is one already of forgiveness and apology. She doesn't want to startle him. She doesn't want him to trigger any thing that might hurt him. I'm sorry--
She's sorry, she's sorry for frightening him-- and damn this frail body, can't she be stronger? Can't she push herself up to help him? He needs more help-- he needs to know that he's safe now! She came all this way for him, and now she can hardly even see straight.
She tries to push herself up, shuddering briefly, before she collapses on the ground. She won't be touching him again, not now. In fact, she won't be moving at all.