[ There's a split second where she looks absolutely wild as he shoves her up against the wall — eyes bloodshot, teeth bared, her grip on her knife white-knuckled and every muscle in her body taut with killing intent — but that faceful of aerosol antidote stops her dead. The knife falls from her hand and clatters to the floor as she starts to violently cough — so hard that the force of it would have her doubled over if not for his arm holding her back. Her eyes water as if purging themselves, saline streaking down her cheeks as she wheezes out a few pained breaths. Unconsciously, she reaches out for something to steady herself, snagging a tight fistful of his clothes and digging her fingers in as she rides it out.
It seems like an eternity before the tension finally ebbs from her body. Her grip on him goes slack, her head falling back against the wall behind her as she breathes, slow and unsteady. For a long while, she doesn't say anything at all. She just watches him from under half-lowered eyelashes, trying to get her breathing to even out.
Finally, in a rough rasp just tinged with her old wryness: ]
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It seems like an eternity before the tension finally ebbs from her body. Her grip on him goes slack, her head falling back against the wall behind her as she breathes, slow and unsteady. For a long while, she doesn't say anything at all. She just watches him from under half-lowered eyelashes, trying to get her breathing to even out.
Finally, in a rough rasp just tinged with her old wryness: ]
Stubborn bastard.