Desmond had seen the blond turn the corner rather sharply, all of her attention on watching her back. The man frowned, wondering what she was seemingly running away from, before the crease on his brow deepened as he noticed the blood on her legs. With all the murders lately, this couldn't be good and the novice jogged to meet her up:
"Hey! Are you ok-humph!" Obviously, the young lady hadn't seen him and before he knew it, they were both tumbling to the ground. Instincts quickly took over him and Desmond twisted his body so he would meet the ground first, his body becoming a cushion for the blond.
He groaned as he hit the dirt, his hands holding her firmly but gently. He looked up, a bit out of breath and gave the young woman a concerned look:
Claire grunted when she crashed into the man, bracing herself for the impact when she would fall unto the ground. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to find herself being held so close, so protectively by this stranger. Her first instinct was to, unfortunately, pull away from him.
And at first, the only answer she got was a roll of his eyes and a small smirk: "You're the one on top of me." It was clear that, despite being embarrassed, Desmond was as well amused by this situation.
He waited for her to get off him to sit up and eventually stand up. "What the hell were you running away from?"
The blonde gave her own version of rolling her eyes and climbed off the man, grumbling under her breath, "Cute." She was a bit annoyed he found this a little funny.
She stood up and dusted the dirt off her jeans and shirt, looking over to where she came from. "Oh you know, scarecrows. Crazy, maniacal scarecrows."
Misinterpreting her mumblings, Desmond felt warmth spreading to his cheeks. Bit still, he offered a slightly smug smirk to the blond, one that made him look a lot like Ezio.
"Thanks. You too, by the way." Really? He was flirting with her, right away like that? God, he was turning into his Italian ancestor and the very thought made Desmond mentally facepalmed.
Still, at the reason of her running, the novice frowned and looked over her shoulder to the direction she was coming from. "Really? They're not usually that aggressive." He then remembered the blood on her jeans and looked down at it again. "Did they gave you that?"
Whoa there Des. She's 16. XDbreaksmybonesOctober 27 2011, 16:35:41 UTC
She looked back at him, rising an eyebrow at his retort. Oh wow. He chose that time to hit on her? Not to mention he looked like he was old enough to be a friend of Peter. However, she couldn't help but chuckle at his attempt, shaking her head before glancing back to the other side of the field.
"I must be really special then," She shifted her weight from one foot to another before speaking once more. "I fell." she said plainly. She couldn't really say one of those lunatics threw a pitchfork at her and it went right through her leg, now could she?
What? He was trying to be nice! Sheesh!failssassinNovember 9 2011, 18:39:12 UTC
He gave a look back at the fields and the scarecrows and shrugged lightly: "Either that or they're rattled by something else entirely. The latter wouldn't surprise me much, to be honest." Because weirder things had happened over the last year he spent here.
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by her lie: "Riiiight, and I'm the queen of England." That would piss off Shaun. "Come on, you should get it checked out. Fall or not, it looks like nasty wounds and I'm sure it needs to be cleaned and wrapped." He offered support in case she couldn't walk on her leg, but chose to wait for her to ask for it, or to show that she really needs it.
Whatever you say, bro. :3cbreaksmybonesNovember 10 2011, 04:01:46 UTC
Claire seemed to be unperturbed that he didn't believe her. She couldn't exactly tell him that one of the scarecrows threw a pitchfork at her and it punctured her leg. She had to stick to her story for now at least. "I just woke up in the fields. That's already enough for them to go all angry mob on me?"
She frowned at his suggestion, looking down at her leg and back at him with a tense look on her face. "I'm fine. Hell, I could still probably do cartwheels on this leg."
"Hey! Are you ok-humph!" Obviously, the young lady hadn't seen him and before he knew it, they were both tumbling to the ground. Instincts quickly took over him and Desmond twisted his body so he would meet the ground first, his body becoming a cushion for the blond.
He groaned as he hit the dirt, his hands holding her firmly but gently. He looked up, a bit out of breath and gave the young woman a concerned look:
"Are you all right?"
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"Agh, get off of me!"
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He waited for her to get off him to sit up and eventually stand up. "What the hell were you running away from?"
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She stood up and dusted the dirt off her jeans and shirt, looking over to where she came from. "Oh you know, scarecrows. Crazy, maniacal scarecrows."
Reply
"Thanks. You too, by the way." Really? He was flirting with her, right away like that? God, he was turning into his Italian ancestor and the very thought made Desmond mentally facepalmed.
Still, at the reason of her running, the novice frowned and looked over her shoulder to the direction she was coming from. "Really? They're not usually that aggressive." He then remembered the blood on her jeans and looked down at it again. "Did they gave you that?"
Reply
"I must be really special then," She shifted her weight from one foot to another before speaking once more. "I fell." she said plainly. She couldn't really say one of those lunatics threw a pitchfork at her and it went right through her leg, now could she?
Reply
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by her lie: "Riiiight, and I'm the queen of England." That would piss off Shaun. "Come on, you should get it checked out. Fall or not, it looks like nasty wounds and I'm sure it needs to be cleaned and wrapped." He offered support in case she couldn't walk on her leg, but chose to wait for her to ask for it, or to show that she really needs it.
Reply
She frowned at his suggestion, looking down at her leg and back at him with a tense look on her face. "I'm fine. Hell, I could still probably do cartwheels on this leg."
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