But that's wordcount for the day.
Reason for stopping: eff this for a lark
I do kind of like this, though:
"Ow." I nibble the knuckle a little harder than I intended. "I--" Pinch my nose against the burning and close my eyes. "I didn't really want to die."
"Good," he says, and squeezes me as the girls laugh riotously on the other side of the curtain, resuming a conversation that must have been interrupted by my little fit. "The deathwish shit was getting old."
"Yeah." I wonder how I can explain. 'I owe a terrorist a favor. I have to save the world.'