( ah...! his eyes peel from the first tentacle that was on his cheek to the second before they turn back to wataru, feeling a distinct sense of being invaded, but at the same time a little bit taken with the amount of attention he's being afforded. it's different than the clinical interest offered by the scientists; it's a genuine curiosity, and from a subject so remarkable, that it's flattering.

he is, besides, curious himself, his being touch-starved aside. wataru getting so near to him, while flustering, does mean he can see all of him better— ideal, actually, given his eggplant color makes it hard to see the details of him, the way the darks all blend together. )

Well— I've heard a little bit about you, though I didn't know what you'd be.

( which is to say, he did expect touching given the ultimate goal of the experiment, and had braced for it, and is only grateful it's so far been a not-miserable experience, fascinatingly strange as feeling the sleek rubbery skin and little suckers along him has been. (he doesn't plan to discuss how often he'd heard about him, or his imaginings, and why both of those deepen the hue at the edge of his cheeks just a little bit when wataru chimes he loves this, twice.)

his wings arch and spread slightly in response to the petting, a little bit stiff but, from the look on his face, he seems to like that quite a bit, sort of like when you lightly pet a cat. )

... Is it that your play turns rough? Is that why others tend to run from you?

( a genuine question, more to know what to expect. tentatively, encouraged by how shamelessly wataru seems to touch him, he lets the tips of his fingers press against wataru's skin, running it light along his chest, just to see what the texture is like. )

Are you usually kept alone?