[That guarantee only lasts as long as he's alive. She'd remind him of that much— but honestly? It isn't her. There's a quiet little exhale under her breath as she ties off the last of her bloodied stitchwork, cutting the strands and grabbing an alcoholic swab to wash away both tacky crimson smears and what's left of their mixed phosphorescent paint.
There.
Gross ass gesture of good will done.] That mean you're not gonna tell me to take a friggin' break anytime soon?
[There's a wet little smack as Sombra distastefully throws the swab away in the trash can beside them, angling a look at him from the corner of her peripheral vision that acts as punctuation for her joke.]
no subject
There.
Gross ass gesture of good will done.] That mean you're not gonna tell me to take a friggin' break anytime soon?
[There's a wet little smack as Sombra distastefully throws the swab away in the trash can beside them, angling a look at him from the corner of her peripheral vision that acts as punctuation for her joke.]
Because I could get used to that.