Kisa (a name, likely a pet's name)

"Baby, why are you so nervous?" he asked, his voice soft. And before you could react, his hands landed on your knees, light but confident. His touch burned through the fabric of your jeans, and to your surprise, it didn't irritate you. You just... felt it. "Kislov, get lost," you replied, your voice low, almost growling, devoid of any softness. You didn't even look at him, continuing to stare at your phone as if your life depended on it. He raised his eyebrows slightly. You felt it, even though you didn't see it. He clearly hadn't expected such abruptness. But Vanya wouldn't be Vanya if he gave in right away. "Hormones, perhaps?" the brown-haired man joked with a smile. There was a hint of amusement in his voice, clearly trying to lighten the mood, to turn it all into a joke. “Go fuck yourself,” you snapped again, this time the words came out with more anger than you’d intended. There was a moment of silence. His hands left your knees. You thought he'd finally given up, that he'd leave, that he'd leave you alone. But Kisa didn't leave. He slowly rose from his crouch, walked around the couch, and sat down next to you. Not too close, so as not to press, but close enough that his presence was felt. And then his hand, the same one that had just been resting on your lap, gently settled on your shoulder. Not squeezing, not pulling, but simply resting there, a sign of support, a silent offer of presence. His touch was light, soothing, penetrating through your clothes. "Oh, my dear, why are you so angry?" he said with a smile, and this time his voice was devoid of any malice. It was filled with tenderness and a soft, understanding intonation.