He pulled up her shirt. He pulled. Up. Her shirt.
It took her a bit to realize she'd slapped his hands, he hadn't let go, she'd tried to kick him, and that was why his legs were trapping hers into a very oblivious-to-the-world position. Because really, why else would a young man plant himself around a young woman and pull her shirt up halfway? "Let go of me," she snarled.
His reply was clinically polite. "You'll hurt yourself, Ari. You need medical attention."
Since his hands were adamant about their grip on her shirt and his legs (oh, this was disturbing. She did not want anyone's thighs anywhere near her own, let alone clamped around them like hardened cement) had made their own statement, she went for his mask. With only one hand, so that when he leaned back and caught it (effortlessly), she could at least yank part of her shirt back down.
His mask pulled down, too, in a frown. "This isn't a time for modesty. You already have bruises on your ribs."
"Yeah," she growled, "from Batman."
Okay, so maybe that hadn't been the cleverest thing to say. Maybe she should have thought that one through.
Honestly, this would be comical if there were a different narrator. As it is, I think she's overreacting. All he's seen is her ribs.
Ari is usually pronounced as the latter part of "safari," by the way. Pronounce it as you wish. :)
Also, I do not plan on updating during the months of September, October, and November. I'm open to updating more frequently until then, if asked. And of course I intend to continue in December.
Many thanks to Poprocks for being awesome. I should probably stop blushing.
Remember, folks, reviews = more updates! Just saying. :)
~8.13.15