Faye Vaughn hissed in his arms, crying out in pain, "You... you're pressing on my wound..."
Finn Hawthorne glanced down and saw that, sure enough, his arm was pressing against her gunshot wound.
He quickly adjusted his grip.
A team of doctors had already been put on standby at the hospital for tonight, just in case.
Finn Hawthorne picked up his pace, unable to stop himself from cursing. "I've never met anyone so stupid! Do I fucking need you to save me? With a scrawny body like yours, you could've been blown away by a single shot."
Faye Vaughn's face was chalk-white with pain, her forehead slick with cold sweat.
She retorted weakly, "Didn't you tell me to hit on you? Does this count?"
"Counts for shit! This is fucking useless!"
Finn Hawthorne's tone was harsh.
Faye Vaughn watched the affection value above his head jump, rising to 25%.
'It went up by 5%.'
'This injury wasn't for nothing.'
"Doctor! A little idiot got herself shot! Hurry, get her into surgery!"
