[turns his face away as quickly as possible to deflect the belt from his eyes, coping it across the cheek still. feels the warmth of the blood from where the leather cut in dribbling down his cheek, wiping it away with the back of his hand.] ... [doesn't have time to react to the second swing, the buckle connecting straight into the soft side of his head, stepping back grabbing where it had hit. oh, stars.]
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