( she responds to that flash of almost-anger, even if homura's voice doesn't really change; it feels more, authentic; more honest; okay, she's a person after all. sayaka wonders sometimes. she sucks in a breath through her nose and holds it, the smell of blood and sweat unpleasant around her. i am handling it as well as i can, she almost wants to argue, but that's not true, is it?
still - to be lectured by her, of all people… with visible effort, not just from the pain but from stiffness borne of tension, sayaka uncurls herself, pushes her feet under her and tries to stand, revealing bruised legs and dirty hands. she has to brace herself against a wall as the blood rushes out of her head; she gives homura a look that is anything but icy; cold. )
shatters your jaw with a single punch. . . . . . . . . . . .
still - to be lectured by her, of all people… with visible effort, not just from the pain but from stiffness borne of tension, sayaka uncurls herself, pushes her feet under her and tries to stand, revealing bruised legs and dirty hands. she has to brace herself against a wall as the blood rushes out of her head; she gives homura a look that is anything but icy; cold. )
I don't need you telling me how to act.