[ Konstantin begins to gag harder, and then the thing slips free of him and his body goes limp—and Vasiliy finds himself staring at the larval body of an extraterrestrial organism as he stands on his knees on the mattress, looking over Konstantin's limp body at the wet, lamprey-like form beside it, his own body frozen in place.
He hadn't doubted the other, and yet, he still finds himself shocked: it's different, actually being presented with undeniable evidence of complex life beyond earth. He's jolted from his reverie, however, when the thing begins to slither toward the edge of the bed—and then drops off of it. Then, all at once, he remembers its nature, the danger it poses to normal human beings. His feet hit the floor on the other side of the bed and he hurries to beat it to the door, frantically scanning his surroundings for something to shove under the space beneath. A towel, a hanging towel, good. He stuffs it under as tightly as he can, pushing it in with a bare foot, all while keeping his eyes on the alien as the lights of the aurora illuminating the dark sky beyond the window glisten off of its salamander-like skin.
An alien. A real alien, from space.
He's finally come face-to-face with the thing that's been so ubiquitous in their daily life since the moment they met. It's undoubtedly been driven out by the same contact pain that's been debilitating Kostya on every aurora night; in some ways, it's a mercy that he's unconscious for it this time, unable to feel the usual agonies. Maybe it will simply... go back when the aurora ends. Is it that intelligent? Does it understand that that's the cause of the pain? Will it even be able to find its way back in?
For now, he just watches from the edge of the room. ]
sincerely you describe him so well. but also here comes a very special boy
He hadn't doubted the other, and yet, he still finds himself shocked: it's different, actually being presented with undeniable evidence of complex life beyond earth. He's jolted from his reverie, however, when the thing begins to slither toward the edge of the bed—and then drops off of it. Then, all at once, he remembers its nature, the danger it poses to normal human beings. His feet hit the floor on the other side of the bed and he hurries to beat it to the door, frantically scanning his surroundings for something to shove under the space beneath. A towel, a hanging towel, good. He stuffs it under as tightly as he can, pushing it in with a bare foot, all while keeping his eyes on the alien as the lights of the aurora illuminating the dark sky beyond the window glisten off of its salamander-like skin.
An alien. A real alien, from space.
He's finally come face-to-face with the thing that's been so ubiquitous in their daily life since the moment they met. It's undoubtedly been driven out by the same contact pain that's been debilitating Kostya on every aurora night; in some ways, it's a mercy that he's unconscious for it this time, unable to feel the usual agonies. Maybe it will simply... go back when the aurora ends. Is it that intelligent? Does it understand that that's the cause of the pain? Will it even be able to find its way back in?
For now, he just watches from the edge of the room. ]