[ He pushes himself up to sit, gaze cast down to the practice mats. ]
It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.
[ His side stings as he holds it, and he’s pretty sure a nice, pretty bruise will be forming there soon enough. Maybe the old him could have taken the blow and rolled with it, could’ve dodged or blocked or deflected it, instead of just— taking the full brunt of it, as he had. He wonders for a second if it wasn’t just a little intentional, just a little pointed, like Gamora almost wanted to take him down like that.
With his free hand, he draws his hand down his jaw. ]
no subject
It’s fine. You don’t have to explain.
[ His side stings as he holds it, and he’s pretty sure a nice, pretty bruise will be forming there soon enough. Maybe the old him could have taken the blow and rolled with it, could’ve dodged or blocked or deflected it, instead of just— taking the full brunt of it, as he had. He wonders for a second if it wasn’t just a little intentional, just a little pointed, like Gamora almost wanted to take him down like that.
With his free hand, he draws his hand down his jaw. ]
I’m not any good at this. I know.