𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝.

"Gettin' real shaky here, ain't'cha?" The flat of his palms pushes against the other's hips, apply some pressure as he tries to ensure they stay steady. Or he'll just nick her, whichever came first. "Tremblin' is a look I would't've thought to expect, but it ain't so bad."

Way ahead of the little mechanical angel here, she ain't gotta fret none. The blade's tip digs in and with a deft precision shreds at the fabric keeping her decent.

Don't you fret none li'l imp, I can tolerate plenty before dishin' back what's owed.

And that'll be a month long operation all wrapped up in its bloody packagin'. Now who's waitin' in the wings tryin'a get me like so?