There are no words
... for the amount of suffering that she will bring down upon his head.
When she can breathe again.
This is NOT fair. It is not fair in any way, shape or form.
Damn it.
Selina Kyle does not get sick.
"Selina KYLE DOES NOT GET SICK!"
That wasn't supposed to be outloud. Her head is fuzzy, she's having a hell of a time breathing and she just feels generally like death warmed over. Wrapped up in a warm robe over the flannel jammies (Yes, they have kittens and balls of string on them. Shut up.) and fuzzy kitty slippers, she's making her way down from the room to... to....
Damn it. Where was she going?
Oh yeah! Food!
She leans against the bannister and looks around blearily, for some reason just wanting to sit down and pout. Maybe even have a small, very small, cry.
"Because apparently when I get sick I turn into a five year old."
Damn it. That wasn't supposed to be outloud, either.
When she can breathe again.
This is NOT fair. It is not fair in any way, shape or form.
Damn it.
Selina Kyle does not get sick.
"Selina KYLE DOES NOT GET SICK!"
That wasn't supposed to be outloud. Her head is fuzzy, she's having a hell of a time breathing and she just feels generally like death warmed over. Wrapped up in a warm robe over the flannel jammies (Yes, they have kittens and balls of string on them. Shut up.) and fuzzy kitty slippers, she's making her way down from the room to... to....
Damn it. Where was she going?
Oh yeah! Food!
She leans against the bannister and looks around blearily, for some reason just wanting to sit down and pout. Maybe even have a small, very small, cry.
"Because apparently when I get sick I turn into a five year old."
Damn it. That wasn't supposed to be outloud, either.