“No, oww, hold on.” She turned her hands up, wincing at the shallow scrapes turning red. “When will I learn how to tumble properly and not catch myself with my hands.” Though the marks weren’t deep, there were a number of scraped places, including both knees and the top of her foot, and the stinging was sharp enough to make her vaguely nauseous.
At Summer’s request, Robert kept his hands to himself for the time being, his eyes scanning her body to check the various areas she had injured in the fall. “Nothing seems all that bad. Plus, I’m pretty sure no one falls with grace. Unless they’re too proud of themselves.” He wanted to get her to her feet, but the facial expression she sported had him think otherwise. “Do you think you’ll live, or should I call an ambulance?” Humor. Humor usually helped the situation from being too dire.
“I didn’t say grace,” she corrected. “But I’m not much of a martial artist if I can’t fall properly.” A few more deep breaths and the nausea subsided, but just because she could, she put the back of one hand to her forehead. “Woe, I think I am dying,” she declaimed, exaggeratedly, and reeled sideways to lean on Robert.
“I know you didn’t, but I did.” Considering it was the best word he could think of, and he was trying to lighten the mood. “You’d have to be training for quite some time not to fall on your ass when falling off a bike. Makes you feel any better, I don’t fall correctly all the time.” What he didn’t mention was it wasn’t often. “Do I need to mention the injured ankle I got filming?” Course, right as he finished speaking, a laugh escaped him at Summer’s antics. Hey, she was only playing along with what he started.
“Would have been different if I’d fallen on my ass,” she muttered, looking at her hands again. She lifted her leg, flexing the knee, and winced slightly. “Well, I think I can keep going but maybe we better not ride all over after all. I’m sorry.” Gingerly, she put her hands down to push herself up. “Was there anything you wanted to do?”