[ For once, Pyrrha had been grateful to have her and Nora's shared room to herself for the night. She barely even remembered getting home, or getting halfway undressed, or - ick, throwing up largely into her own hair? By the time she literally bumps into Jaune, she's knotted her hair up in an uncharacteristic bun and somehow lost her pants but kept her socks and sweater from the previous night. She's visibly clammy, a shade paler than is her wont, with dark shadows under her eyes and the imprint of a pillow case creasing her cheek. To put it simply, she hasn't looked this bad since the botched aura transferal.
So, when she tries to respond to Jaune's greeting, ]
Oh, he—
[ ... she can barely get two words out before the unforgivable crime of opening her mouth spells disaster. Feeling her stomach lurch, more bile rising, she stops midword and ducks under his arm, making way for the toilet.
There are some seriously gross sounds happening now. ]
action;
So, when she tries to respond to Jaune's greeting, ]
Oh, he—
[ ... she can barely get two words out before the unforgivable crime of opening her mouth spells disaster. Feeling her stomach lurch, more bile rising, she stops midword and ducks under his arm, making way for the toilet.
There are some seriously gross sounds happening now. ]