First interview as a Barça player
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First interview as a Barça player
I think... I think black widow is gonna be the first marvel movie I won't watch in cinemas since 2015
*applies lipstick to my eyelid*
Fauntleroy falls heavily onto the couch, hissing as it jars their entire face. They're bruised and bloodied, but the other guy got the shit deservedly kicked out of him, and that's the part that matters most. Still, they believe they have more than room to complain.
"Why am I the one who always gets beat up?" they whine, physically wincing around their words as each sound tugs at the ragged split in their lip.
Claquesous replies from over the back of the couch on his way to the kitchen, "Because you keep picking fights with people twice your size, and you know it."
The freezer opens and shuts again, then a bag of frozen peas crunches onto the cushion beside Faun. They pick it up to gingerly cradle it against the bruising on their face, doing their best to not whimper at the pressure. Sous drags a chair around to sit beside them, sighing heavily as he looks them over.
"You're a mess."
"And you're shit at being comforting."
"You knew that before tonight, so there's no use complaining about it now." He reaches out to tilt their head, but they slap his hand away. "Christ, just let me see."
"It hurts! Plus I don't need help. I'm not..." They let their voice trail off, stuffing down the last part of that thought while hiding the rest of their face behind their arm.
Sous settles for barely touching their hand instead. "You know I'm not trying because I think you need it, right?" He can tell they nod a little by how the bag shifts against their face. "I think you do want the attention, though."
That, at least, prompts them to stir. Fauntleroy pushes off the couch enough to sit up and scowl directly at him. "I wanted to win. I always have to rely on you or Gueulemer or Montparnasse or... I just... wanted to win by myself. And then you swooped in to save me like you always do, and I still got beat up." They drop the bag away from their face so he can see the full extent of the damage- a gash on their cheek, split and swollen lower lip, and purple bruises creeping from their jaw up to their eye.
Claquesous barely keeps from reaching without asking again, his hand hovering awkwardly halfway to them. He instead points to the now empty space beside them. "May I?"
Faun nods, and Sous slips from his chair to the couch in one quick motion. They snuggle against his side right away, ignoring the pain in favor of being closer to him. He drapes his arm around their shoulders and hugs them tight, dropping a faint kiss into their hair for good measure. "You know I would fight a dozen men that big for you, yeah?"
"That doesn't help when I want to take them down myself."
"Fine. I'll hold their attention while you cut their hamstrings."
There's a brief moment of silence before they reply, "Better."
You know you've improved when listening to that one band no longer brings you bad memories.
i wouldve honestly preferred being a furry at least then i wouldnt have to worry about navigating entirely new muscle groups