[ Whatever Konstantin is about to say in response is immediately halted as Vasiliy starts coughing — a rough, calloused sound. Considering he just came from a burning environment, it's worrisome, extremely worrisome, and the older man's brows are knitting again as he frowns.
He can't chide Vasiliy for down-playing his own injuries; he'd do the same. But being on this side of it... it's something else entirely. His frown persists as he reaches gently for his arm, lifting it up over the bucket. His other hand pours a little bit of the water out over the scrape so that he can get it a bit wet, and then he's reaching for the soap, lathering before hesitating for a moment. ]
Might sting, [ he warns (not that Vasiliy, the EMT here, wouldn't know that), and then he's gently coaxing his soapy hand to the wound to brush his thumb lightly over it, not pressing inwards.
As he does, he lifts his brows and looks up at the other with a quiet intensity. ]
Is your throat all right? Your lungs? [ They certainly don't sound all right. ]
no subject
He can't chide Vasiliy for down-playing his own injuries; he'd do the same. But being on this side of it... it's something else entirely. His frown persists as he reaches gently for his arm, lifting it up over the bucket. His other hand pours a little bit of the water out over the scrape so that he can get it a bit wet, and then he's reaching for the soap, lathering before hesitating for a moment. ]
Might sting, [ he warns (not that Vasiliy, the EMT here, wouldn't know that), and then he's gently coaxing his soapy hand to the wound to brush his thumb lightly over it, not pressing inwards.
As he does, he lifts his brows and looks up at the other with a quiet intensity. ]
Is your throat all right? Your lungs? [ They certainly don't sound all right. ]