[If Vincent had gotten over his worry of maybe nearly killing Irahl before, he should maybe worry again, as Irahl fully chokes on his ice water.
Well, most of his mouthful of water gets cough-laughed back into his glass. The rest goes lung-ward. There's no time to tell his brain that he technically can't drown.
The glass rattles against the metal floor as he fumbles to put it back down without spilling it, while rolling over to cough into his arm at the same time. He needs a minute.
When he's finally able to drag air into his lungs again, he needs another few moments to ride out the jagged spasms running through his ribs (yeah, he remembers now, something bad had happened in there), before he can speak. His voice has a pathetic rasp to it when he finally does.]
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Well, most of his mouthful of water gets cough-laughed back into his glass. The rest goes lung-ward. There's no time to tell his brain that he technically can't drown.
The glass rattles against the metal floor as he fumbles to put it back down without spilling it, while rolling over to cough into his arm at the same time. He needs a minute.
When he's finally able to drag air into his lungs again, he needs another few moments to ride out the jagged spasms running through his ribs (yeah, he remembers now, something bad had happened in there), before he can speak. His voice has a pathetic rasp to it when he finally does.]
...Who won?