[He ends up dropping his arm after a little bit, because it still hurts a lot to keep it upright. Leaning on his other arm is already a challenge.]
Okay.
[And with that seemingly... Settled, he collapses back to where he had been moments before, laying on his back with his legs extended. He presses the palm of his hand (which has several bandages on it) against his forehead. A weak smile on his face. He's still confused and embarrassed, but his heart doesn't feel quite so heavy now.]
Assumin' you wanna talk to me still, an' all that. 'Cause I was pretty sure I'd fucked up bad with this one...
[This both explains his earlier mood, and, you know, gives Irahl a last chance to tell him off for being a fucking weirdo. It's a little hard for him to believe he's still not being blamed for something.]
[The combination of embarrassment and relief is hitting Irahl too, and the combination is nauseating. He's looking forward to hopefully being able to fully calm down again soon, because he has a lot to sleep off.
For now, the deliriousness he's feeling in the wake of all this has him reaching out to rest a hand in the center of Vincent's chest briefly, before he even thinks about it. Very rarely does he ever feel the compulsion to touch another person for any nonviolent reason, but the want to reassure is still pretty strong, so it just kind of happens when finding words turns out to be too hard.
It's only after he takes his hand back that he thinks of something to say.]
[It's good that Vincent is so beat-up, otherwise he would have instinctually thought he was being handed something and tried to grab Irahl's hand. Might have ruined what he belatedly realizes is simply a kind gesture. It's heartwarming.
On the heels of that, the bit about a roommate makes him laugh a little - which, again, kind of rolls into a wheezing cough that he tries to smother as quickly as he can.]
Hey, I'll take it...
[It still doesn't occur to him that, with Irahl's recent past, that roommate was very likely related to his being kidnapped, but maybe it'll hit him later. He makes... A very weak attempt to get up, craning his head and a little bit of his shoulders before giving up and lying back down.]
S'good thing, too. 'Cause I may just live here now.
[Referring to his place here, sideways on the end of the bed, possibly forever.]
[There's a huff under his breath at that comment, because not only is it ridiculous that Vincent is crashed there like that, it's also inconvenient.
Irahl doesn't tell him to leave, though. He carefully leans over to take a long drink of his ice water instead. You know one of those ice cubes ends up in his mouth. It feels great with how busted everything is. And he rearranges a little while it melts, lumping up his pillow behind him so he can carefully drag his legs up onto the bed (wow, one hip sure is sore), and sit back against the wall.
It's still uncomfortable and embarrassing to have Vincent hanging around this close to him, but it should be much, much worse than it is.]
[And he really didn't mean to linger... Irahl seems to be doing better. The guy's even moving to get more comfortable, instead of the awful tension Vincent could practically feel radiating off of him just a few moments before. He can go back to his bunk now. They're both going to be okay.]
Listen, man, I dunno who kicked my ass harder... You or me...
[He makes another attempt to lift himself up, this time rolling onto his side again first. This does better. He's able to sort of lever himself up into a sitting position this time, though it makes his head pound again to do so.]
Though I gotta say... If we ever get space-raiders or whatever comin' in here, they are fucked.
[Each stupid joke puts one more step between them and the mess they're in the process of slowly walking away from. It's a framework that Irahl doesn't have to think very hard to build off of, and that is yet another relief in the wake of everything else. If he can just keep this up, maybe things will go back to normal.
He's able to rest his head back against the wall now and close his eyes. He still has music playing in one ear.]
They better show up soon. We're running out of people to beat up.
[Though he says it with half a grin on his face, so he probably doesn't mean this all that seriously. All things considered, hurting from laughing is a good problem to have. He makes his way back up to his feet, swearing that his sore muscles have only gotten worse since he's stopped having some other problem to distract him.
As he goes back towards his bed, waving vaguely behind himself in Irahl's direction.]
Lemme know if you want anything, aight?
[Just sort of a blanket statement to cover anything from wanting more ice water to wanting him to stay up and talk to for a while. Maybe Irahl won't ask for anything, that's fine too. The offer is made all the same.]
[There's a noncommittal murmur to Vincent's offer--which, the fact that there is any reply at all is a good sign. Those are the kind of comments that Irahl typically feels zero obligation to respond to, so he's at least making the effort to acknowledge Vincent, even if they both know he probably has no intention of actually taking him up on the offer.
Otherwise, he's good to disengage now. He's going to stay propped upright in his bunk-cave for now, as he needs some time to slowly unwind from his upset, but the rattling anxiety has been left behind.
The dust can finally be allowed to settle. And once it does, he'll finally tip over to let his busted body rest, and get some sleep.]
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Okay.
[And with that seemingly... Settled, he collapses back to where he had been moments before, laying on his back with his legs extended. He presses the palm of his hand (which has several bandages on it) against his forehead. A weak smile on his face. He's still confused and embarrassed, but his heart doesn't feel quite so heavy now.]
Assumin' you wanna talk to me still, an' all that. 'Cause I was pretty sure I'd fucked up bad with this one...
[This both explains his earlier mood, and, you know, gives Irahl a last chance to tell him off for being a fucking weirdo. It's a little hard for him to believe he's still not being blamed for something.]
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For now, the deliriousness he's feeling in the wake of all this has him reaching out to rest a hand in the center of Vincent's chest briefly, before he even thinks about it. Very rarely does he ever feel the compulsion to touch another person for any nonviolent reason, but the want to reassure is still pretty strong, so it just kind of happens when finding words turns out to be too hard.
It's only after he takes his hand back that he thinks of something to say.]
Still better than my last roommate.
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On the heels of that, the bit about a roommate makes him laugh a little - which, again, kind of rolls into a wheezing cough that he tries to smother as quickly as he can.]
Hey, I'll take it...
[It still doesn't occur to him that, with Irahl's recent past, that roommate was very likely related to his being kidnapped, but maybe it'll hit him later. He makes... A very weak attempt to get up, craning his head and a little bit of his shoulders before giving up and lying back down.]
S'good thing, too. 'Cause I may just live here now.
[Referring to his place here, sideways on the end of the bed, possibly forever.]
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Irahl doesn't tell him to leave, though. He carefully leans over to take a long drink of his ice water instead. You know one of those ice cubes ends up in his mouth. It feels great with how busted everything is. And he rearranges a little while it melts, lumping up his pillow behind him so he can carefully drag his legs up onto the bed (wow, one hip sure is sore), and sit back against the wall.
It's still uncomfortable and embarrassing to have Vincent hanging around this close to him, but it should be much, much worse than it is.]
Don't tell me I hit you that hard.
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Listen, man, I dunno who kicked my ass harder... You or me...
[He makes another attempt to lift himself up, this time rolling onto his side again first. This does better. He's able to sort of lever himself up into a sitting position this time, though it makes his head pound again to do so.]
Though I gotta say... If we ever get space-raiders or whatever comin' in here, they are fucked.
[He'll... He'll stand up in a minute. Really.]
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He's able to rest his head back against the wall now and close his eyes. He still has music playing in one ear.]
They better show up soon. We're running out of people to beat up.
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Fuck... Stop making me laugh...
[Though he says it with half a grin on his face, so he probably doesn't mean this all that seriously. All things considered, hurting from laughing is a good problem to have. He makes his way back up to his feet, swearing that his sore muscles have only gotten worse since he's stopped having some other problem to distract him.
As he goes back towards his bed, waving vaguely behind himself in Irahl's direction.]
Lemme know if you want anything, aight?
[Just sort of a blanket statement to cover anything from wanting more ice water to wanting him to stay up and talk to for a while. Maybe Irahl won't ask for anything, that's fine too. The offer is made all the same.]
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Otherwise, he's good to disengage now. He's going to stay propped upright in his bunk-cave for now, as he needs some time to slowly unwind from his upset, but the rattling anxiety has been left behind.
The dust can finally be allowed to settle. And once it does, he'll finally tip over to let his busted body rest, and get some sleep.]