Damsel in Distress
Blade held tactically to Derek's neck, a menacing voice warned severely.
In an indifferent manner, Derek let go of Rain's chin and dropped down the now empty goblet on the table, taking the leisure to appraise his effort;
"There you go."
He tilted his head to the side and stroked the tip of the cold blade rested on his neck with his fingers. "Who are you?"
"Sir-sir Nor-Norman." Rain coughed profusely, releasing showers of milk curd from both her mouth and nostrils. Her eyes lit up in shades of astonishment and consolation.
Gasping weakly for breath, she staggered to get out of her seat and rush into Norman's embrace.
As though she'd sighted her savior, she relaxed onto his body in utmost relief, burying her stinging eyes into his chest.