blade or wound for the ask game!
from a season 1 era endeavour fic that may never see the light of day since it's one of the like four that i feverishly half-wrote during my rewatch. set from jakes's perspective because i'm very normal about him
Morse made a derisive little sound that drifted out into a groan. He’d better not have ripped anything; Peter’s sewing skills went about as far as mending a hole in a piece of clothing, if he was lucky. Not one in a person. Besides, Morse owed him that shirt back.
Honestly, he wasn’t actually sure where they were going. Home, he guessed; Morse’s place, or his, or one then the other, most likely. Seemed a bit— stupid, maybe, to leave Morse on his own with a barely-patched stab wound that he’d probably messed up even worse clambering all over the college roof jumping on Gull.
Jesus. If he wound up with anything other than wrap-up paperwork tomorrow, if someone so much as misplaced their fucking bicycle, he’d be quitting the whole job and moving to America, or someplace.