He watched him lower his saxophone to the table, then glanced back up at Midvalley, eyes focused on the way he almost reached up to touch an old wound under a patch of blood on his stark, white suit. The man was trying to hide something, and it wasn't hard to tell what that was, especially given the state of him. It just brought up more questions than it answered.
"No, he definitely didn't miss." Which made him turn and begin searching shelves and cupboards in earnest, until he'd managed to find a small metal first-aid kit tucked underneath the sink and lifted it above his head with a little "Hah!" He had already opened it and was beginning to sift through the contents by the time he stood up and began walking back over, pulling out a roll of gauze and tape. Probably would need that bottle of alcohol, too...and, unfortunately, maybe even those...giant tweezers, if there were still any bullets in his gut. Forceps? What even did they call those things? "Alright, lift up your shirt."
The abruptness and possible awkwardness of the statement didn't even occur to him, though to be honest it probably wouldn't have even if he weren't drunk. When Midvalley continued to rattle on, though, he blinked, looking up at him in a bit of a stunned silence.
He hadn't-...? Was he-...? Vash's mouth fell open, but whatever question he'd been about to ask died on his lips at the gesture he made toward the door and the implications of it, and suddenly his head was on a swivel, swinging quickly back and forth between him and the darkness that lay just outside.
Did he mean-...??? But-...there was no way-...The grave was-...But then Midvalley also shouldn't be-...No.
No, no. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral down that path. It was dumb, it would just get his hopes up for something he knew was impossible, and he was already hurting enough as it was. He unclenched his hand from where it had crushed around the roll of gauze, looked down at the table as he dropped the box down near the saxophone, and busied himself with opening the wrapper so that he could have a moment to collect himself again.
"...For what it's worth, I'm glad to hear that. I don't have any intention of continuing a fight that I never wanted in the first place. All I ever wanted was to be left in peace, so if that's sounds fine to you, then I'm glad to let what's in the past stay there."
Pfft, man, I commend the hustle, tagging from phones is a NIGHTMARE!
"No, he definitely didn't miss." Which made him turn and begin searching shelves and cupboards in earnest, until he'd managed to find a small metal first-aid kit tucked underneath the sink and lifted it above his head with a little "Hah!" He had already opened it and was beginning to sift through the contents by the time he stood up and began walking back over, pulling out a roll of gauze and tape. Probably would need that bottle of alcohol, too...and, unfortunately, maybe even those...giant tweezers, if there were still any bullets in his gut. Forceps? What even did they call those things? "Alright, lift up your shirt."
The abruptness and possible awkwardness of the statement didn't even occur to him, though to be honest it probably wouldn't have even if he weren't drunk. When Midvalley continued to rattle on, though, he blinked, looking up at him in a bit of a stunned silence.
He hadn't-...? Was he-...? Vash's mouth fell open, but whatever question he'd been about to ask died on his lips at the gesture he made toward the door and the implications of it, and suddenly his head was on a swivel, swinging quickly back and forth between him and the darkness that lay just outside.
Did he mean-...??? But-...there was no way-...The grave was-...But then Midvalley also shouldn't be-...No.
No, no. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral down that path. It was dumb, it would just get his hopes up for something he knew was impossible, and he was already hurting enough as it was. He unclenched his hand from where it had crushed around the roll of gauze, looked down at the table as he dropped the box down near the saxophone, and busied himself with opening the wrapper so that he could have a moment to collect himself again.
"...For what it's worth, I'm glad to hear that. I don't have any intention of continuing a fight that I never wanted in the first place. All I ever wanted was to be left in peace, so if that's sounds fine to you, then I'm glad to let what's in the past stay there."