#russiancyborg

[[ imu. :c ]]

ooc; alsdfj bby i've missed you and your quirky-cute muse

russiancyborg replied to your post: ✩ ~

Giggling sheepishly, she rushed to wrap her arms around his waist—considering their height difference. “I did not expect you to be the ‘hugging’ type,” amusement sounded from her vocal processors. “Nonetheless, the gesture is greatly appreciated!”

A feminine giggle reached his ears, although it was almost tuned out from his own concentration. He stood in great disbelief as he stationed himself next to a white crib, though even still he remained a decent distance away. Who did the child belong to? He constantly found himself asking that question repeatedly within his head. Certainly it wasn’t his—he wasn’t capable of producing something so innocent. He’d seen it before, yet he was confused as to how it came into his possession. With his head bowed and brows arched into obvious confusion, he hung back and observed the stirring child from a distance.

A dainty hand caught him off-guard, and his head snapped towards where it settled temporarily on his forearm.  Following its length with his eyes, he was met with Alisa’s face to which he examined intently before turning his gaze back towards the infant. He was on edge and perplexed, and Alisa’s calm demeanour only seemed to intensify that feeling. How was she so calm? She was more of a weapon than he was, yet at the same time she seemed comfortable and knowledgeable with the situation. Had that been programmed into her from the start? Feminine, maternal instincts?

“Come on,” Alisa insisted, fingers curling around his arm. She took a step forward, as if to encourage him to close the gap between themselves and the restless child, but Sergei refused.

With a tilt of her head, Alisa looked up towards the Spetsnaz officer in attempt to read his expression, though as she did, Dragunov averted his eyes away from her. Such uncharacteristic hesitation was a good enough response for her it seemed, as she apparently understood exactly what his reservations were about. Without waiting for a response from the other, Alisa took a step closer and hooked her arm with Dragunov’s before physically tugging him out of his stationary position whether he liked it or not. She wanted to prove a point. An involuntary grunt rumbled through his chest, and eventually his feet shuffled beneath him until they reached the crib’s bars.

“What are you afraid of?” She questioned, lips gently curling up into a pretty smile before they turned down towards the infant, who had just rolled over and realized their presence. Staring down towards the soft colours of pink, purple and blue, Dragunov watched as the child stared back up in wonder; tiny hands lifting towards her mouth which soon split into a wide grin. With wiggling, saliva-coated fingers, she extended her arms up towards the ceiling and reached for the faces greeting her.

“See?” Alisa prompted as she released his arm. Instead, she ducked beneath it and swiftly curled her arms around his mid-section and linked her fingers where his ribs were located. She turned her gaze up towards his face again and presented another inviting smile. He hesitantly glanced back down at her, waiting for her to continue.