Well cliches weren't always a negative thing-- not in this case, anyway-- so the silly things were permissible for now. Awkwardly so, sure, but permissible.
And it was still awkward, but a happy place was much better than a sad one, so he couldn't really complain too much (that would've woken her anyway). Just how was it, again, that the girl who kept trying to place 'nurse' and 'caretaker' wound up in a completely opposite role, and he was the one lulling her off to dreamyland like some big, oafish, wound-riddled man-mother?...
Urk, that was a terribly unflattering analogy and he couldn't even growl about it because he had a sleeping Aster curled up next to him.
...
Siiigh.
Well at least the plates were set aside, which left him with nothing to do but lay there, sagging back against the pillow a little and staring off at the ceiling in a daze for god-only-knew how long before, without is recognition or conscious consent, he, too, succumbed to a weary slumber.
He could even hear that damn purring in his dreams, sheesh.
And he was probably stuck with it for good now.
... Yeah, it could've been worse.
