When the other came back into the room he held his breath, and the shirt on his leg didn't seem to fool him for long before it was thrown to the side. Before he could reach for the flying fabric he watched the hand come close to his leg. Quickly he hit it away with quite a bit of force, though it must have felt like nothing to a demon. "Don't fucking try to touch my leg." He snapped, ignoring the glare the other gave him. He didn't want someone who just tried killing him to touch and see the weakest part of him, but here he was, sat on a couch to be looked at.<br/><br/>Though the other was being nice to him, even a little gentle, he didn't trust him. "I couldn't grab my mother in a fire, I was the man of the house and I wasn't strong enough. I promised him--" His hands clenched in tight fists at his sides and he let out a slow breath, he wished he was alone in the hospital bed again, where he didn't have to talk and look at an unfamiliar face. What calmed him a bit was seeing the other take his shirt off, taking his mind away from his issues and wondering about the others. He had the same thing, just... healed properly. He didn't show fear or disgust, he just... seemed calmer now, a little less like a freak of nature. Though Alois knew he had a bit to go until he looked like Zico, and that'd be how he'd look.<br/><br/>"I can do everything, just stitch my arm." He didn't quite snap this time, but there was still a bit of anger and discomfort in his throat. Alois wasn't comfortable with Zico touching him all over to fix things. He'd rather di it himself and then put his clothes back on. The less it took he better. There really wasn't much to do anyways but put on something to kill the germs and wrap up all the rash until it turned the scabs then properly healed over. That'd just take time. More time healing, it was like a curse was stamped right between his eyes that attracted some horrible bad luck to ruin everything when things seemed to be getting better.