Kellen calms enough to push himself back into an upright position, all his wriggling during that fit of amusement having brought him to be facing Ruckus now, instead of beside him. Ducking his head down to wipe a stray tear of laughter from his cheek, it's inevitable that he smears some of the eyeliner from the corner of his eye, leaving a long smudge along his cheekbone to his ear. He shifts to sit cross-legged on the bed, procuring the pack of cigarettes from one hip pocket, and only halfway listens to Ruckus' mostly-incoherent rambling.

Even halfway was probably too much. What with Ruckus dropping nouns and vital adjectives from his little monologue, what Kellen takes away from it is probably not what was actually intended, and his eyes are colder again when he gets the (incorrect) gist of it and looks more sharply at the man across from him. "The fuck does that mean? He's not safe, you have to stay away from him? Leech didn't have anything to do with getting you fucked-up and hospitalized." To his credit, Kellen sounds somewhat less volatile than he feels, though that likely won't last long depending on Ruckus' response. For which Kellen waits intently, muttering not-quite-under his breath that he doesn't much like the man like this, either.