With cockroach genes infused, he got some traits. For example, antennas. It wasn’t really a problem for him, but they just were a bit. . . sensitive. It’s makes sense for them to be delicate. He just always combed them back to hide in his hair, blending them in.

Whenever he was around you, he had his antennas out. It was a sign of trust he held for you. Enough trust you let you touch them.

He was watching your hands closely as you grazed your fingers across the tips of the antennas. Whenever you put too much pressure on them, they would twitch unconsciously. But, with a sigh, he let you continue.

He got comfortable in the seat that was beside to panel to control the flying ship. His expression was calm, though the light pink that dusted his cheek told a different story.