Four.[ His brows lift with surprise as he gives a soft exhale at the thought. ] No wonder you know how to calm unruly little beasts.
[ Again, he tries to keep this very awkward and assuredly horrific situation as light-hearted as possible, but it's... strange. His heart's beating a little faster than it normally does, faster than the heart of someone who has been trained how to stay extremely calm should beat. He's not used to this.. prickling anxiety. He realises not all of it is because he's told someone about the creature but because it's extremely uncomfortable to be touched... there. Only Vasiliy had — and it was so briefly, back when he'd done an examination of him, tried to decipher where the creature rested and if it was all right, not in risk of causing a rupture or blockage in him.
But never since then. He doesn't even like touching himself there — strangely careful with dressing and undressing, flinching if his fingers ever happen to graze the skin of his abdomen. It's disgusting, the thought that something lives just beneath his skin, inside one of his organs. If he thinks too much about it he wants to scream, to tear into himself and get it out—
He takes his own steadying breath, tries to keep himself as still as possible when Randvi feels for it and then places her hand there, his eyes moving up to the ceiling. One hand moves to the couch, fingers curling tightly into its material, tense. The alien's writhing like something unearthed from beneath a stone, fitful, but almost immediately— it stops. The warm is back, close and soothing.
Konstantin closes his eyes for a moment as he exhales, carefully. He can feel it moving again, but not so distressed, slowly nudging closer to the hand that rests against his stomach and curling up close to it. ]
....God. It really does like that. I've never known it to react to things on the outside like this.
[ But then, he's still so new to the thing, really. ]
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[ Again, he tries to keep this very awkward and assuredly horrific situation as light-hearted as possible, but it's... strange. His heart's beating a little faster than it normally does, faster than the heart of someone who has been trained how to stay extremely calm should beat. He's not used to this.. prickling anxiety. He realises not all of it is because he's told someone about the creature but because it's extremely uncomfortable to be touched... there. Only Vasiliy had — and it was so briefly, back when he'd done an examination of him, tried to decipher where the creature rested and if it was all right, not in risk of causing a rupture or blockage in him.
But never since then. He doesn't even like touching himself there — strangely careful with dressing and undressing, flinching if his fingers ever happen to graze the skin of his abdomen. It's disgusting, the thought that something lives just beneath his skin, inside one of his organs. If he thinks too much about it he wants to scream, to tear into himself and get it out—
He takes his own steadying breath, tries to keep himself as still as possible when Randvi feels for it and then places her hand there, his eyes moving up to the ceiling. One hand moves to the couch, fingers curling tightly into its material, tense. The alien's writhing like something unearthed from beneath a stone, fitful, but almost immediately— it stops. The warm is back, close and soothing.
Konstantin closes his eyes for a moment as he exhales, carefully. He can feel it moving again, but not so distressed, slowly nudging closer to the hand that rests against his stomach and curling up close to it. ]
....God. It really does like that. I've never known it to react to things on the outside like this.
[ But then, he's still so new to the thing, really. ]