[ This conversation is the gift that keeps on giving. If Endo weren't on pain medication and already caught up in how this conversation has played out, this is the moment that would make him giddy — charmed by how he managed to draw forth such an honest display of color in Accelerator's cheeks. It isn't the reaction he expected, despite his overt attempt to fluster Accelerator further; it is, however, the reaction he would've wanted, if he were capable of deep forethought in this state.
Still, despite his joy, the medicine does manage to dampen him just enough that getting too excited almost seems exhausting. As he approaches that level, an undetermined point of no return, he naturally scales himself back, just enough. But no amount of painkillers can keep Endo from noticing — and then reacting — to the way that Accelerator looks at his hands.
His hands!
It's all over after that. While Accelerator is once again doing his deep thinking, Endo leans impossibly closer, looking more wild than any injured guy should. And he does the unthinkable: he considers touching him, a brief brush of fingers on whatever limb he manages to catch first. In normal situations, if Endo were wholly himself, he'd never do such a thing. His approach, whether to fighting or stuff like this, is to wait for the first move. That's just how he operates. But Endo is, for better or for worse, too drugged to think about that, and not as smart or as tactical as he should be, which means two things: he begins to move toward Accelerator — and he nearly falls off the bed.
That happens to coincide with Accelerator's comment, which surprises Endo so thoroughly that he glances up at him with wide eyes even as he is (very painfully, it turns out) jerking back from the edge. The surprise lasts as long as his near-fall, which is to say, not long at all, because once Endo is no longer in danger of toppling over, he laughs so hard, he's nearly in tears — both from the laughter itself and the pain from the jostling of his ribs.
He quickly puts a protective arm around his mid section, trying to steady his diaphragm, but doesn't stop laughing, not even as he punctuates the obnoxious sound with various pained noises: ]
Ow — shit. Fuck. Ah.
[ He tries to take a steadying breath, forcing out: ]
Man, you can't just tell a guy he isn't worth anything.
[ After which he curls a little in on himself, simultaneously hoping for more pain meds and never wanting to take them again. ]
accelerator is so cute lol
Still, despite his joy, the medicine does manage to dampen him just enough that getting too excited almost seems exhausting. As he approaches that level, an undetermined point of no return, he naturally scales himself back, just enough. But no amount of painkillers can keep Endo from noticing — and then reacting — to the way that Accelerator looks at his hands.
His hands!
It's all over after that. While Accelerator is once again doing his deep thinking, Endo leans impossibly closer, looking more wild than any injured guy should. And he does the unthinkable: he considers touching him, a brief brush of fingers on whatever limb he manages to catch first. In normal situations, if Endo were wholly himself, he'd never do such a thing. His approach, whether to fighting or stuff like this, is to wait for the first move. That's just how he operates. But Endo is, for better or for worse, too drugged to think about that, and not as smart or as tactical as he should be, which means two things: he begins to move toward Accelerator — and he nearly falls off the bed.
That happens to coincide with Accelerator's comment, which surprises Endo so thoroughly that he glances up at him with wide eyes even as he is (very painfully, it turns out) jerking back from the edge. The surprise lasts as long as his near-fall, which is to say, not long at all, because once Endo is no longer in danger of toppling over, he laughs so hard, he's nearly in tears — both from the laughter itself and the pain from the jostling of his ribs.
He quickly puts a protective arm around his mid section, trying to steady his diaphragm, but doesn't stop laughing, not even as he punctuates the obnoxious sound with various pained noises: ]
Ow — shit. Fuck. Ah.
[ He tries to take a steadying breath, forcing out: ]
Man, you can't just tell a guy he isn't worth anything.
[ After which he curls a little in on himself, simultaneously hoping for more pain meds and never wanting to take them again. ]