It took all of the killer's willpower not to roll his eyes. He couldn't blame Suresh, he supposed--this was important to him, and the level of concentration required was most likely on par with his own, when he took a new ability. Mohinder hadn't bothered him then, with petty conversation or otherwise, so he supposed he could return the favor, even if he didn't particularly like the idea of being ignored.

Sighing, he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly, before watching Mohinder for a moment. The babbling was disturbing, but then again, he'd never actually seen the geneticist at work--maybe this was commonplace rather than a product of what madness he'd inflicted upon him--and so he dismissed it. A glance was shot into his living room, and then he was headed that way. Maybe he'd find a book to read to pass the time while his geneticist worked; it would be better than standing there staring at him, after all.