[ An unnecessarily drawn out sigh drifts up from under the table. It's followed by the soft sounds of shuffling as the boy on the floor tucks his arms against his chest and rolls onto his back. Alec wriggles out into the open driven by the leverage of his feet and some shimmying of his shoulders, and from where he emerges he looks up at Olympia neutrally. ]

I hit you pretty hard.

[ He doesn't sound remorseful or concerned, but he also doesn't sound judgmental. It's a fact, like the table being made of wood or sand being an irritating thing to have in your shoes.

Alec sits up and works his feet underneath him, forearms pressed awkwardly against his stomach. That also hurts, but it's better than letting them flop loosely. ]

It's not permanent. The aftershock might last for a few more minutes, but then you'll just be sore.

[ It occurs to him that he could have mentioned that earlier. If there's a next time, with someone else, he'll keep that in mind - assuming he doesn't want to fuck with them a bit first.

With that squared away, Alec starts his slightly wobbly rise to his feet. ]