A few times... [ Does he know? Actually he doesn't. But it feels like (and is) three that impacted him squarely and tore flesh, and a handful of other grazes along his left side where he'd managed to twist back in time to avoid anything direct. This is why machine gun versions suck. A single bullet he could catch or dodge more easily.
He looks a little surprised when Shouto's expression suddenly shifts as he pulls his hand back. Did he see something? Or... oh.
There isn't even the line from where his mask could have protected him; he reached out to stop Shouto before he'd even invoked his ability, let alone put his mask on, so the entire left side of his face is reddened from it, pulling tightly at the edges of his scar. Probably looks worse than it is just because of how starkly pale he is.
Remembering it the moment he tries to refocus on his face and realizing the tightened and slightly seared feeling there -- look, there's a lot that hurts right now and is going on with him and he really did legit forget -- and remembering when he'd first reached out to spin him around, he almost raises up a hand to confirm the minor burn. That's right, the heat had scorched him a little since he hadn't invoked. But he doesn't touch it, he only blinks for a moment at realizing Shouto's expression and where it comes from, and does not reach to touch it quite consciously.
But he does reach out when he offers him the familiar ointment. Like he means to take it -- but does not. Not yet. He covers his hand with his own (black leather) gloved right one, and then clasps them together with his left. And when Shouto looks back Allen is looking up at him quite intently, gentle but also with a somber kind of seriousness. ]
It's okay, you know. [ He knows you'll say it isn't because that's honestly how he'd feel if the roles were reversed, but... ] Even if you don't feel like it is.
Besides, it was my fault anyway when you'd already warned me to be careful.
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A few times... [ Does he know? Actually he doesn't. But it feels like (and is) three that impacted him squarely and tore flesh, and a handful of other grazes along his left side where he'd managed to twist back in time to avoid anything direct. This is why machine gun versions suck. A single bullet he could catch or dodge more easily.
He looks a little surprised when Shouto's expression suddenly shifts as he pulls his hand back. Did he see something? Or... oh.
There isn't even the line from where his mask could have protected him; he reached out to stop Shouto before he'd even invoked his ability, let alone put his mask on, so the entire left side of his face is reddened from it, pulling tightly at the edges of his scar. Probably looks worse than it is just because of how starkly pale he is.
Remembering it the moment he tries to refocus on his face and realizing the tightened and slightly seared feeling there -- look, there's a lot that hurts right now and is going on with him and he really did legit forget -- and remembering when he'd first reached out to spin him around, he almost raises up a hand to confirm the minor burn. That's right, the heat had scorched him a little since he hadn't invoked. But he doesn't touch it, he only blinks for a moment at realizing Shouto's expression and where it comes from, and does not reach to touch it quite consciously.
But he does reach out when he offers him the familiar ointment. Like he means to take it -- but does not. Not yet. He covers his hand with his own (black leather) gloved right one, and then clasps them together with his left. And when Shouto looks back Allen is looking up at him quite intently, gentle but also with a somber kind of seriousness. ]
It's okay, you know. [ He knows you'll say it isn't because that's honestly how he'd feel if the roles were reversed, but... ] Even if you don't feel like it is.
Besides, it was my fault anyway when you'd already warned me to be careful.