Honestly? Kon is sort of freaking out.

Not in the way where he’s like, about to have a panic attack or laser vision something or whatever, but in the way that he doesn’t know what on earth to do.

See, all he did was ask you about the green streak in your hair. Seriously, that’s all he did. You got a weird look on your face, even under that mask. You asked where, he told you a streak on the back of your hair, you wanted photo evidence, and well. Kon gave it to you. Now he’s really regretting this, not knowing what to do with his hands as you start to laugh.

It’s wrong-sounding kind of laughter, not the joyous kind he’s heard a few times from you, but almost panicked. Maniacal, until the panic bleeds back in. There’s a sharp scent of tears in the air— underneath your mask, they must be pooling. The laughter gets louder, sharper, you don’t seem to be in control of yourself with your body twitching and starting to claw at your arms that don’t have any of your suit material on it.

He’s freaking out even though he knows he needs to be calm, grabbing your wrists and stopping you from harming yourself. “Holy shit— dude, stop. Just- breathe, okay?! Deep breaths.”