Though the blood now flowed freely down the front of his clothes, no one else at the table appeared concerned and continued chattering. The fork effectively disappeared, the handle hidden inside the fist that pushed against his cheek, the tines inside his mouth. Almost absent-mindedly, he played with them with his tongue.
His mouth remained half open all this time, but it closed fully when his top teeth came down and bit deeply into his bottom lip, once, twice, three times. He moved his jaw from side to side, trying to bite off his bottom lip's drenched red flesh.