❛ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲? ❜ he replies with an under the breath scoff. he hadn’t meant for it to come out as abrupt as it did, but she hadn’t caught him at a good time — and slightly off guard. he’s sitting on the edge of his motel bed, still wearing the dirtied boots and jacket he walked in with on and he’s holding one arm close to his chest.
he tries to move it, directing it with his other hand. but the slight movement makes him audibly wince. ❛ shit . . . ❜ he breathes out and returns to holding his arm completely still. ❛ it’s . . . it’s my arm. i think i might’ve landed on it wrong . . . ❜ think wasn’t the right word. he knew what had happened. the b.o.w he was facing off had briefly gained the upper hand and had thrown the agent across the room with ease. so leon, very idiotically, had used his arm to try and soften the blow. a rookie move.
❛ do you mind? ❜ he asks with a small head gesture towards his jacket. he hasn’t looked up to meet her yet, the task proved too difficult. but if she could help him in getting his jacket off, then he'd be able to get a better visual of the damage done and decide if it's something he can deal with on his own, or not.
･ﾟ ☇ @intaeritus › random dramatic prompts.
