Walking wasn't the problem, it was the dazed fog that crept over her balance no matter how many times she blinked it away. Something something glass jaw -- she'd always fervently deny her own inability to take a good few punches to her head, but right then she wasn't fooling anybody.
Somehow, her hand had found its way to his jacket, and she clutched at it. "Put me up," she said, words mushy and raw. She spat to clear her mouth, but the aim was sloppy. Saliva and blood dribbled over the edge of her lower lip, forming a string she wiped off on the back of her free arm.
"Smokes."
Somehow, her hand had found its way to his jacket, and she clutched at it. "Put me up," she said, words mushy and raw. She spat to clear her mouth, but the aim was sloppy. Saliva and blood dribbled over the edge of her lower lip, forming a string she wiped off on the back of her free arm.
"Smokes."
