The way he so casually said 'dead parent' like he figured out his entire existence so easily infuriated him.  Yes, all his issues only came from his mother burning to a crisp and his father's accident. He hated the demon now, but the only angered that show was a slight twitch of his lips. The only reason he gave a fuck about what happened to his parents because that meant it happened to the older demon, who he wished was doing this instead of Zico. "I think it's more because you want to talk about it, but whatever helps you sleep at night," Alois said, glancing up at him and then away.<br/><br/>His mind constantly went back to his burn, wondering if the other was thinking about it, judging him even if he had gone through the same thing. His mind was poisoned to think in such a horrible way, he truly thought the other was disgusted by him and<i>must</i>be thinking about it.<br/><br/>"I'm not a child," Alois muttered but made no effort to move or snatch what was in his hands away. As long as he stayed away from the burned areas he'd tolerate the other touching him. At first, there was a stinging pain in each little cut that caused him to flinch a bit. All pain seemed dulled down after going through his treatment of peeling skin and agonizing pain whenever a gust of wind touched his exposed flesh. He sat quietly, letting the other move from his leg to both of his arms before they finally got to the large gash which had stopped bleeding a while ago but was still a rather deep gash. It took a few stitches and it was done, simple and easy fixes.<br/><br/>"Can I put my clothes on now," He asked as he stood up, his arms going to cover the burn by instinct. His left arm curled over his stomach to grip the right wrist, hiding what was on his stomach while this right arm blocked most of the burned side. For the leg, he couldn't do anything but stand in shame.