sleeping where you shouldn’t | from <x> | @ambersrpblog
He was sore; a damn deer had sprinted out in front of his bike while he was searching one of the back roads. He’d taken a pretty nasty spill but even with how quickly he could heal it wouldn’t come as a surprise that he still felt the ache of cracked ribs. Rest was necessary when he was hurt- so perhaps that was why he reacted so poorly when the Sheriff shook him awake.
Jack’s head snapped up, lips curled back to bare his teeth not unlike some angry dog, and he slapped the other’s hand away. “Piss off!” He hissed, immediately regretting the sudden movement. He dropped the hand down to clutch his ribs, still laying despite the officer’s presence. His dark eyes stared up at the older man in a defensive glare, “Don’t you have some traffic tickets to hand out, copper-?”
He frowned, ready to snap back, but noticed how tense the young man’s face became after he slapped at him. Hopper had dealt with enough injured people to know how some became like kicked dogs when they were hurt, ready to spring into action and bite anyone who came close. Hell, even he was like that sometimes.
“What’d you do?” he asked, his tone a little accusatory, patience not always his strong suit. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”
