[he stays still and silent while gallagher dresses his wounds, no matter how much it hurts, especially when he's cleaning out the grime and blood. by the time gallagher is done, sunday is breathing heavily despite having not moved, the pain robbing him of his breath.
he immediately takes another drink, pops it open, and downs it. the most inelegant that gallagher has ever seen him, honestly, but he thinks he can be afforded a moment of impropriety considering his situation. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand afterward, begging the drink to work its magic a little faster. he looks fucking haggard, to say the least. but, well-
-this is the price of ambition.]
...You were not lying when you said you wanted to cooperate after all. [he sinks back onto the couch, just marinating in his misery and letting the drink work to mend his flesh.] It would be a useless endeavor to do all this just to kill me, after all. You'd gain little from it - other than satisfaction, if your detestation runs deeper than your actions would suggest.
no subject
he immediately takes another drink, pops it open, and downs it. the most inelegant that gallagher has ever seen him, honestly, but he thinks he can be afforded a moment of impropriety considering his situation. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand afterward, begging the drink to work its magic a little faster. he looks fucking haggard, to say the least. but, well-
-this is the price of ambition.]
...You were not lying when you said you wanted to cooperate after all. [he sinks back onto the couch, just marinating in his misery and letting the drink work to mend his flesh.] It would be a useless endeavor to do all this just to kill me, after all. You'd gain little from it - other than satisfaction, if your detestation runs deeper than your actions would suggest.