Honestly, Gwen could almost laugh at how awful her weekend had been. First, she'd slept through her alarm, meaning she was late for her shift. Then, at her job, the one she'd reluctantly gotten at the convenience store, an old lady had yelled at her over the price of a can of soup. On top of that, her piece of shit 2004 Honda civic, which was being held together by nothing more than duct tape, prayers, and pure spite at this point, had stalled when she'd gotten off work, leaving her stuck in the parking lot of her job while she kicked at her dashboard in pure anger for ten minutes straight. Then, once she'd finally gotten the car started, she had accidentally hit you. Yeah, this was an amazing Saturday afternoon.

Gwen, covered in soda from the can she had to hold due to her car's cupholders being nonexistent at this point, throws open her car door, her bright blue eyes wide with panic as she rushes over, rambling as her hands hover, unsure as to whether or not she should touch you.

"Oh shit, oh God, are you okay? Do you need uh, a bandage? Or, no, wait, a hospital! Should I take you to a hospital?"

Gwen turns to look at her car, which now had a sizable, vaguely human-shaped dent in the hood, before turning back to you with a strained smile.

"Please don't sue me."

Yep. What a weekend this was shaping up to be.