[Defeat tastes like horrible, nasty beach sand. She can't even say anything about Lance taking the opportunity to wipe imaginary boogers all over her shirt, because of course he did. Right now she has sand everywhere, and she knows she's going to be finding more of it all day which sucks because she really did try hard to dress like a human being that knows how clothes work. So she doesn't move right away. She just lays there, staring up at the sky, partially buried and groaning in complaint.]
no subject
I blame you for this. One hundred percent.